Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA. If I did, these two would be the best of friends, then the best of boyfriends, then all that lovey-dovey-happily-ever-after schtick.
Zuko honestly can't fathom why he has to endure spending a whole 'nother year in this school. He's a firebender, and he deserves to attend the Nativitas Academy just like any other bender. Just like Azula. He scowls, and the look seems misplaced on his young face of only seven years old. Of course, those who know Zuko—perhaps even those who don't—would say that one would be hard-pressed to find him sporting any other facial expression.
Zuko sits quietly at the edge of the playground, knees drawn up to his chest, aimlessly drawing designs and shapes in the dirt with a stick he'd found nearby. He doesn't mind the solitude though, prefers it, actually. Recess is the one time during the day where he can get away from those other snot-eating kids. Zuko sighs, already knowing he'll hate the rest of the year despite the fact that it's only the second day of school.
He etches out a small fire emblem on the ground as thoughts and fantasies flood his mind. Thoughts of leaving this school, fantasies of finally fulfilling his full potential as a firebender, hopes of making his father and mother proud, of—
"Whatcha drawin'?" a voice pipes up from beside his right ear.
"GAH!" Zuko will deny later any arm flailing that takes place or that he'd been taken by surprise, but for right now, he can only scowl to cover up his embarrassment at being caught off guard.
The boy laughs, though it's not unkindly, and plops down next to Zuko. "Sorry," he apologizes with a smile. Zuko glares at him but he seems unfazed, leaning over to peer at what Zuko had previously been occupied with. "What's that?" he asks curiously, pointing a finger at the fire symbol.
Zuko, forgetting his ire for a moment, gapes at the other boy in disbelief. "Do you really not know?" he eventually says.
The other boy just blinks at him.
Finding his voice, Zuko rights himself and scoots away from the boy. "It's the crest of the firebenders."
The boy, not seeming to get that Zuko wants absolutely nothing to do with him, only scoots closer to him—closer than before, even. "Really?" he breathes, eyes wide as he inspects the crest. "I've seen the one for waterbenders but I've never really looked at the fire one 'fore. I'm not a waterbender though. Are you a firebender? I don't know a lot about other—"
"Do you ever shut up?" Zuko asks, which isn't what he meant to say at all. He meant to tell the other boy to go away and leave him alone. He can say that now. The other boy seems to have shut up for the moment—
"No, not really," the boy replies easily with a small shrug. "My Gran-Gran's always telling me I've got a big mouth too. But I think she means that I eat a lot. I love eating. Meat is—"
"I don't care," says Zuko, going back to scratching at the dirt with his stick, stubbornly resolving to just ignore the other boy altogether. Maybe that'll make him go away. But it seems that Zuko is being ignored just as well, though not quite so intentionally.
"—the best thing ever. And fish. My dad fishes a lot—it's his job, actually," he informs Zuko with no small amount of pride lacing his voice. "My dad's great. He's tough and strong and one day I'm gonna be just like him. And I'll be strong 'nuff t' protect my baby sister. She's not really a baby though—"
Zuko groans aloud, resigning himself to his fate of having his ear talked off. To death, even. "What do you want?" he snaps, interrupting the other boy's blathering.
He just beams at him and offers a hand out to him. "I'm Sokka."
Zuko's eyes flicker from the boy's face to his outstretched hand, then back to his face, a single eyebrow arched on his forehead. The boy seems to falter for a second, uncertainty flashing behind his blue eyes—blue like the ocean, Zuko can't help but compare, banishing the thought as suddenly as it'd come—but he doesn't relent. Just keeps smiling.
And Zuko isn't sure what possesses him to reach out and grab that hand and shake it, but he does. "Zuko," he grunts, snatching his hand away when the boy's smile only grows, averting his eyes quickly.
"So do ya wanna play wi' me?" Sokka inquires, hope shining in his eyes.
"I don't play," Zuko mutters, still not looking up, missing the way Sokka seems to deflate, like a cake that's been underbaked.
"Oh." But it doesn't take long for Sokka to bounce back. "So ya never answered my other question. You a firebender? I know lotsa benders—well, they're all mostly waterbenders—er, only waterbenders—but it's still cool, I guess."
"Um," Zuko starts articulately. "Yes."
Sokka's eyes widen with something like awe and Zuko can't help but feel his chest swell slightly with pride. "No way!" Sokka exclaims, practically vibrating on the spot now. "C'n ya show me some tricks?" he requests excitedly.
At this, Zuko's ego shrinks just the tiniest bit. "Um, I don't . . . I dunno any," he admits begrudgingly.
"Oh," Sokka says, just the tiniest bit of disappointment tingeing his tone, but he shrugs it off. "That's okay. I hear bending is hard." Zuko only grunts, though it's hard to interpret whether it's an agreement or simply an acknowledgment. Then something seems to occur to Sokka. "Hey. Why aren't ya at that fancy pantsy school for benders?"
Zuko, having warmed up enough to just tolerate the other boy's presence, tenses up immediately and jabs the stick harshly into the ground. "I dun'wanna talk about it," he grumbles.
Sokka frowns, unsure of what he'd said that put his new friend in such a sour mood. "But how else are ya gonna learn t' firebend?" he asks innocently, truly baffled as to why Zuko's here and not there, at the school with that really weird name he can't ever seem to remember. "I thought all benders went there. My sister goes there 'cause she's a waterbender. I miss her sometimes, a lot, but my parents and Gran-Gran say she has to go 'cause benders could really hurt someone if they didn't learn how t' use their powers right." Sokka seems to consider something. "But you wouldn't do that, right, Zuko? You wouldn't hurt me." The last part is said with finality, Sokka answering his own question without waiting for Zuko's reply.
And maybe that's a good thing. Because Zuko isn't sure how he's supposed to answer something like that.
The bell rings, signalling the end of recess, and Zuko abruptly finds himself being dragged up and towards the school entrance by a warm, firm grip on his elbow. "H-Hey!" he protests, more out of shock than anything else.
"C'mon! You can sit next to me in class!" Sokka says, smiling so widely—he seems to do that a lot, Zuko notices, though he can't figure out what there could possibly be to smile about—that Zuko can't find it in him to say no.
Plus, deep down, maybe a little part of him doesn't want to. And now that's something else he can't quite understand either.
The next day at recess, Zuko automatically trudges back over to what he's insofar claimed as his spot on the playground. On the edge of it. Whatever. Sokka's not there. But it's not like he cares. 'Cause he doesn't. At all.
One day of talking to the other boy—though he was lucky to get a word in edgewise, so it was more like he sat and listened and tried not to smile every time Mr. Kato got on Sokka for interrupting his lesson—didn't suddenly make them best friends. Zuko wasn't even sure how to be a friend in general.
So it's fine, he tells himself as he stabs the ground repeatedly with his stick. It's not like he even likes Sokka and his stupid blue eyes and his stupid weird ponytail and his stupid laugh or anything.
"What'd the ground do to you?"
"GAH!" Zuko drops the stick mid-stab, scrambling back a couple of feet. "Stop doing that."
Sokka just grins, grabbing the stick and taking up his spot beside Zuko—which is undoubtedly his spot now, no one can tell him otherwise—and starting to twirl it between his little fingers. Or trying to. His tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, Zuko simply watching the other boy as he fumbles with the stick. Gets frustrated with it. Then breaks it.
"Hey!" Zuko exclaims. "That was my stick!" Honestly, he doesn't care about the stick. But he feels like he had to say something. The stick was still in his possession only a few moments ago.
"Pfft, I can get you a whole 'nother one that'll be way better than this 'un," Sokka scoffs, tossing away the broken, twiggy halves.
Zuko rolls his eyes, settling back into his position of having his knees tucked under his chin. But now that he's stickless, he's not sure what to do with his hands. So he begins fiddling with a blade of grass. "You didn't find any other friends t' play with?" Zuko grumbles, the words coming out before he can even stop them, and if people could die from embarrassment, Zuko would be dead twelve times over.
Studiously avoiding any eye contact with Sokka, Zuko doesn't notice the way the other boy brightens up, obviously pleased by the prospect that Zuko had missed him. Maybe. He's really not sure. Zuko's hard to read.
"Nah," says Sokka, leaning back onto his hands and legs sprawled out in front of him, "they're not like you."
Zuko almost thinks that the other boy is mocking him, but one glance at Sokka's face proves that he's serious. Zuko's face heats up but he adamantly ignores it. "What's so great 'bout me?" he mumbles, voice muffled by his arm as he rests his chin on the crook of an elbow.
Sokka beams at this. "Lotsa things!" he replies immediately, and Zuko raises a skeptical eyebrow at him. "You're really nice, even if ya don't like t' show it, and you can firebend, and your eyes are really cool, and you're secretly funny sometimes, and your hair looks really soft too!" As Sokka talks, Zuko begins to think that the other boy's mistaken him for somebody else completely, though that doesn't stop him from blushing profusely under the praise. Then Sokka's reaching out a hand and running it through Zuko's inky hair. The latter absolutely freezes, unsure of how to handle this situation. "And it feels really soft too," Sokka comments eventually, his voice going soft, and now Zuko really doesn't know how to handle this.
So he does the first thing he can think of.
Namely, yank on Sokka's ponytail and take off running.
"H-Hey!" Sokka squawks, surprise morphing into indignance. He jumps onto his feet and takes chase after the other boy. "You can't yank on a warrior's wolf tail like that!"
Zuko's steps falter and he almost trips, unbidden laughter bubbling up from his throat. "Warrior wolf tail?" he repeats over his shoulder between giggles, racing past the swing set.
"Yes, warrior wolf tail! That's what it's called!" Sokka shouts, steadily gaining on Zuko.
"Looks like a ponytail t' me!" Zuko quips, jumping over the legs of a young girl lying on the ground.
"Get back here and say tha' t' mah fa—OOMPH!" Unfortunately, Sokka doesn't seem to possess the agility and grace that Zuko has because he absolutely trips over the girl's legs, landing in a tangled heap on the ground while the girl wails at him to watch where he's going.
Zuko comes trotting back, the biggest smile on his face and cheeks flushed from running as he peers down at Sokka on the ground. The other boy groans, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his face.
"Ow."
Zuko giggles, offering a hand out to the other boy, who takes it gratefully. Only to pull Zuko down with him and begin tickling him furiously.
Zuko squeals—and at one time he might've found it in him to be embarrassed that he's capable of making such a sound, but right now, he can't care less—and struggles desperately to get out of Sokka's grasp.
"No, Sokka, that—" His shriek turns into one of laughter, finally managing to break away from Sokka's Evil Fingers and rolling onto his feet to escape their clutches.
Sokka's not far behind, growling and threatening to tickle him to death, wiggling his fingers for effect. When he does eventually catch up to Zuko, he tackles him to the ground, but doesn't do much else, too exhausted to draw up the energy to carry out his earlier threats.
Zuko huffs a laugh, pushing the other off him, and Sokka rolls onto the ground beside Zuko. But they don't stray far from each other, staying close enough for their shoulders and arms to just be brushing against one another.
Sokka turns to look at Zuko, who catches him staring, and then they both burst into another fit of breathy giggles.
As they lay there, staring up at the sky and pointing out the different shapes in the clouds, Zuko wonders why he's never tried this friend thing before. Friends are nice to have. Really, really nice.