So...now I'm stepping back into the Zukka fandom. Dear God, it's been way too long.

Recently, I've been getting a huge influx of people favouriting/reviewing/alerting my first and only Zukka fic Wildfire. Unfortunately, I haven't updated it in years, and I don't plan to anytime soon. I got this little plot bunny in my head based off a list I created of the Avatar characters and what instruments they would play in a marching band (you can find it in my scraps on deviantART), and decided that it might be a nice little treat for all my Wildfire supporters.

This chapter has not been beta'd, so if you find any glaring mistakes/typos, feel free to let me know!

EDIT: I had an amazing herpderp moment and accidentally typed out Long Feng as Sokka's marching band instructor. I have fixed this, and changed it to Pakku (because it's makes so much more sense).

Warning: Will contain shounen-ai. And of course, silly Sokka shenanigans.

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar-everything except this story idea belongs to Mike and Bryan.

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The first time Sokka saw him, he nearly dropped his trumpet mid-march. Despite the commands from his drum major to keep in step while marching toward the competition field, the tanned teen nearly stumbled over his own feet while his gaze remained locked on an extremely hot guy in a red and black uniform passing by.

The band came to a halt in the end zone, waiting for the previous band to gather up their props and exit the field. Sokka gulped and held his trumpet at attention in front of his face. He could feel beads of sweat trickling down his face from beneath his shako. His crystal blue eyes glanced around nervously. He had never felt this way right before performing—then again, he had never been so thoroughly distracted by someone so incredibly good-looking from another competing band right before performing, either. They had about thirty seconds before it was their turn to enter the field, and in that time, Sokka had to completely refocus and ground himself. 'Think of the show, think of nothing but the show!' he thought to himself, taking in a deep and shaky breath as Hahn's voice commanded the attention of the 120 high schoolers standing in complete silence.

"Mark time low!"

"Pop-plant!"

Before he knew it, Sokka was marching out onto the astro turf and settling into his drill spot for the beginning of first production. Hahn stood on the drum major's podium and bowed to the audience as the commentator announced their band to the anticipating crowd. The leader of the Water Tribe Warrior Band raised his hands and began the visual count-off. Sokka raised his mouthpiece to his lips and began to play with the rest of the band.

The show went by in a complete blur, and soon the tanned teen found himself lazily trudging back to the buses to change out of uniform with the rest of his fellow band geeks. Truth be told, Sokka couldn't remember a damn thing for the entire span of fifteen minutes on the field—he just hoped that he didn't royally screw up for it. Not only would Pakku give him shit at next practice, but Hahn would be once again demeaning him and trying to convince him to resign as section leader. Like hell he would ever do that.

"Hey, Sokka, are you all right?" Katara said from behind as she caught up with her brother, cradling several flags, a rifle, and a saber in her arms. "You didn't look so great before show. Is something wrong?"

Sokka smiled at his sister, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm fine. Just a little nervous, I guess," he assured her. "Nothing to worry about."

The guard girl set a hand on her brother's shoulder, a tougher feat than she imagined as she tried to balance her equipment in one arm. "Okay, if you're sure…but if you wanna talk, you can come sit with me and Aang after we get changed."

At this, the trumpet player let out a light chuckle. "I'm fine, really. Besides, I'd hate to impose on your boyfriend time," he teased, causing Katara to blush. Before she could throw some retort of denial his way, Sokka climbed onto his designated bus with the rest of the males and promptly changed into his much more comfortable street clothes. After hanging his uniform on the racks above his seat, he gathered up what little belongings he brought with him—wallet, phone, PSP…only the essentials, for sure—and disembarked the bus, pawing at his chin the whole walk back to the stadium. The strap from his shako was really starting to rub his skin raw, and it was only half-way through the season.

He showed the gate proctor his stamped hand that allowed him entrance into the competition and quickly found a seat high up on the bleachers. He liked sitting further up, because it was much easier to see the neat shapes and such written by all the brilliant drill instructors and practiced by the competing bands. It also made it easier to tell whether or not the bands played loud enough, judging by how well he could hear them from so far back. As the next band stepped onto the field, Sokka allowed himself to become completely absorbed in the music.

"Hey, Snoozles, mind if I join you?"

Without turning toward her, or even opening his eyes, Sokka hummed a, "Nope," as his head bopped to the mad beats produced by the drum line. He let Toph use his shoulder as leverage to seat herself next to him on the cold metal. He cracked an eye open to see the blind freshman drumming her thumbs on her thigh in sync with the battery currently performing. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he nudged his friend with his elbow. "Too easy for ya?"

Toph nodded, still keeping up with the tempo. "This is the kind of boring stuff we practice with in sectionals—our drum breaks in show are much cooler," she said with confidence. Of course, percussion always came easily to her; with her blind handicap, she had to rely more on her other senses. Those heightened senses made it cake for her to pick up beats at the drop of a hat, both by listening and feeling the vibrations of sound against the drumheads. Hell, she was even better at marching than Sokka thanks to that, and he had been in band for four years already. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't even a little jealous of Toph's talent…though he was sure she couldn't best his skills with the trumpet, at least.

"Their brass section doesn't sound too great, either," the tanned teen admitted, reclining back slightly. "They need to play louder and face their bells toward the press—"

Oh. Oh shit. ShitshitshitSHIT.

Toph blinked her unseeing eyes, tapping lightly on his shoulder. "Snoozles? What's wrong? Your heartbeat just got a lot faster…"

Sokka could barely hear his best friend over the blood pounding in his ears. His ocean-hued irises widened as he stared four rows down and to the left. He had to force himself to breathe. His body remained completely frozen in his spot. It was him—the really hot guy he saw earlier, right before show time. Except now he only donned his black uniform pants with a red stripe running down the sides, and a black undershirt with an illustration of a drum and a witty phrase written above and below the image.

"Percussion—the only section that doesn't blow," Sokka mouthed quietly.

"Amen to that," Toph interjected with a snicker. Sokka suddenly remembered her presence and shook his head frantically.

"Uh, Toph, do you know which band has military-lookin' red and black uniforms?" he asked dumbly.

Sighing in slight aggravation, Toph jabbed a finger towards her cloudy blue eyes. Oh, right. Sokka facepalmed, muttering a small apology for his forgetfulness. The freshman percussionist behaved so much like a normal person, it was easy to forget that she was blind.

The band on the field concluded their show with a blast of sound, and the audience erupted into applause. Sokka gulped as the guy stood and turned around, climbing up the bleachers with his long legs—presumably to get some food, or use the bathroom before the next ensemble came on. As the guy made his way toward the trumpet player, Sokka got a full view of his face for the first time. A giant burn scar marred the left side of his face, but somehow didn't detract from his extremely good looks. His hair was dark and shaggy, bangs hanging just in front of his eyes that were a beautiful, piercing gold colour. He was gorgeous.

Their eyes met for a brief second as the guy passed, and Sokka thought he was going to faint. His curious blue eyes followed the guy until he disappeared behind the concession stands.

"What are you staring at, Sokka?" Aang asked from behind, standing arm-in-arm with Katara. Sokka shook himself out of his daze, feeling his cheeks flush bright pink with heat.

Toph patted the seat next to her, gesturing for their two friends to sit with them. Throwing an arm around the tanned male to her left, she announced, with a mischievous grin, "Snoozles has a crush."

A crush, indeed.

Sokka cradled his head in his hands. This was going to be a long evening.

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I have no idea how long this story is going to be, but tune in for the next exciting (?) chapter.

Until next time,
Chibi