A/N: Yay! It's officially been a month since I made a fanfic account! *throws confetti in the air* Haha okay. :))
Anyway, this is sort of a character analysis of Katara and Sokka in Hakoda's point of view. I was actually working on a chapter for my story (It's called Rage: Aang's Other Side. Feel free to check it out sometime, if you want :D), then watched an ATLA episode for reference. That somehow turned into an ATLA episode watching spree (because we all know how addicting and awesome ATLA is) and I came across the scene wherein Katara and Sokka hug Hakoda in the last episode. It was just so heartwarming and it got me thinking, "I wonder how Hakoda feels?" and "I wonder what he thinks of Aang, Suki, of his children helping save the world, etc." I had to pour out all that emotion through . . . this. And so, here you have a one-shot written on a spurt of emotion. Enjoy! :D
I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.
"DAD! DAD!" two familiar voices say.
I turn around and see Sokka and Katara running to me (well, limping in Sokka's case). I envelope them into a hug. My children. My brave little warrior and waterbender.
Not so little anymore, I think sadly. It still hurts me to see how much they've grown, to see how much they've experienced without me.
Sokka. He's grown up into a fine young warrior, far from the little boy we left behind years ago. His heart, bravery, cleverness, and determination, however, have remained unchanged, as well as his uncanny way of naming things and his wry sense of humor. His eyes have lost their innocence, however. The innocence I saw in his eyes when I told him he had to be left behind.
I remember the day we left the Southern Water Tribe like it was yesterday. Sokka was wearing face paint and had his trusty boomerang (the one I had given him for his birthday) strapped to his back. He was no more than 13, but he had the spirit of a warrior even then. He struggled to carry a sleeping bag as he waddled towards the ships. I had walked over to him and gently reminded him that he was too young to go to war. He insisted, however, that he was strong, brave and capable of fighting. I didn't doubt him at all, but I knew Katara would need him. The loss of her mother was still fresh in her mind, and she hadn't taken my announcement of going off to war too well either. I knew that if she lost Sokka as well, she would fall apart. I couldn't explain this to him then, but I was sure that in time, he would understand.
I remember the first time I saw Sokka after going to war. I was with my men, discussing our next move, when Bato elbowed me lightly. I looked up, and to my great surprise, there he was, standing in front of me. He was taller, more mature, but he was without a doubt the Sokka I knew and loved. A smile spread across my face as I said his name, before standing up to hug him. For a moment, I forgot all about the war and the Fire Nation; my son, who I had not seen in two years, was in my arms, safe and alive.
Later, he told me that he was finally going to prove to me what a great warrior he was. I smiled at that; he was trying to prove something I had always known. Just as we were about to get on the ship, however, Aang appeared on his bison, with news that Katara was in trouble. Though it broke my heart to set sail without him once again, I was consoled with the knowledge that we weren't leaving him behind this time. He had taken off to fight his own battle. I watched as they flew off into the sky, smiling at the fact that he knows where he's needed the most.
The next time I saw him was after Aang had been struck by lightning. Everyone was devastated, especially Katara, but I have to admire Sokka for keeping his head. Without his wits and quick thinking, we would never have survived. Truthfully, we wouldn't even have had an invasion. I marveled as he told me about the eclipse and carefully laid out his proposed plan. I was impressed; the ingenuity of it was remarkable. It was a plan worthy of a five-star general, but there was a touch to it that was unmistakably Sokka. He was in a category of his own, after all.
During the day of the invasion, I asked him to do something I know he's always wanted to: to lead people, to explain a plan he had devised himself and inspire people. He was extremely nervous about it, and eventually lost his confidence altogether. I decided to step in, and I couldn't help but notice how his shoulders slumped as he walked off the platform. He was deeply disappointed with himself.
I wanted to talk to him about it, to reassure him that he hadn't failed anyone. The whole invasion was his idea, in fact. The submarines were his idea. I had originally wanted him to lead it himself, but he insisted that I had more experience. During the invasion, however, I got myself badly injured and couldn't stand up. I felt like a failure; to myself, to my son, to everyone I realized that that must have been how Sokka felt that morning. Just like I had stepped in for him earlier, Sokka bravely took up my responsibility to lead the invasion force, thinking like a true warrior. Before he took off, I made sure I told him I was proud of him, and Katara did the same, after telling him that she thought he was crazy.
I then look at the young woman in front of me. Katara's been affected the most by my absence and Kya's death, and I know that. She was forced to grow up so early; maturing even earlier than her older brother. At a tender age, she stepped up, trying to fill in the gaping hole Kya had left us with. She quickly learned how to do all the necessary chores, how to cook, and how to take care of not only a family, but a tribe as well. Everyone started depending on her; I must say that I did too. Kya's death had left me crushed, but it was probably no different for her. I have to admire her raw determination to adapt to change, no matter how horrible the change is. She was already a waterbender by nature even before she had learned to properly bend the element.
I regret not being able to find her a master; she was the first waterbender to be born in our tribe in years, so there was no one nearby to teach her. Our best bet was the North Pole, but what with the war going on, I decided it was best not to travel. I was even more discouraged after learning that Kya had died because of claiming to be the last waterbender in our tribe. I should've known that it was my duty to help her find a proper teacher, but instead, I let her try to learn it by herself. I've talked to Pakku (my new stepfather, by the way) and he told me all about Katara's exceptional skill, focus, and talent, as well as her stubbornness and fierce resolve. She was the one who convinced him to break free of his tribe's customs, the customs that he failed to realize had cost him the love of his life. She was his best pupil, a true master; probably even better than himself, he admitted to me.
I believe every word he said; Katara's waterbending is truly beyond impressive. Just imagine: the last time I had seen her bend was two years ago, and she barely had control over a puddle. Now, her bending never fails to leave me speechless. I noticed how confident she manipulates the water now, how skillful and precise her moves are. How powerful she is, both as a fighter and as healer. In this way, she's different from the little girl I once knew her as, but in a good way.
When I first saw her after leaving the tribe, she was almost a stranger to me. She had grown up into a beautiful young woman in the span of only two years. It seemed the only things familiar about her were her "hair loopies", her mother's necklace and her blue eyes, wise beyond her years. It was a bit staggering to see her resemblance to Kya, in both personality and looks.
Our meeting, however, went nothing like the one I had with Sokka. There were no warm hugs and smiles. Of course, the circumstances were different, but I knew that the reason was something more. Katara regarded me coldly and acted distant; it was as if my very presence irritated her. At first, I thought that it was due to stress and worry over Aang's condition. Though it hurt me to see her acting this way, I didn't push her, nor did I confront her about it; she had always been one to run away from feelings she didn't want to deal with, pushing them deep inside her, and eventually becoming oblivious to them. It was how she was able to cope with losing her mother quicker than any of us.
Of course, just because she had become oblivious to her emotions, it didn't mean that they had disappeared. They were within her, just building up. Of course, like everyone, she had a breaking point, and this was when Aang ran off. It cut her deeply, reopening a wound she had forgotten about. Her emotional dam had finally reached its limit, and she cracked. I'm glad to say that I was there for her, even for that one time, as she let out everything. Her words struck me, and I realized that she wasn't just talking about Aang. His taking off had only caused her pent-up guilt, hurt, disappointment, sadness, anger, and betrayal to finally overflow. We finally reconciled after that, and she smiled at me, the smile I missed seeing for two years. I smiled in return, glad to have my Katara back again.
"I heard what you two did. I am the proudest father in the world," I tell them.
However proud I am of them, I am prouder of how they were able to make a difference in the world. I knew they were special, but I would never have guessed that these two, who seemed to bicker endlessly about often trivial things, had destinies intertwined with the Avatar's.
I first found out that they were traveling with the Avatar a couple of months ago. Bato told me that he ran into Katara and Sokka, who were travelling with the Avatar, whose name was Aang. I couldn't believe my ears. He went on, telling me that although they had wanted to see me, they felt that helping Aang was where they were needed the most. I had smiled through my misty eyes; there was no doubt that Sokka had told him that.
While we were on the ship, he told me all about their adventures with the Avatar. I listened in awe and amazement as I tried to process what he was saying: that they had traveled all around the world, crossed the Serpent's Pass, come face-to-face with Princess Azula, former Prince Zuko, and Admiral Zhao, stopped an attack on Ba Sing Se, and played a major role in the Siege of the North Pole, only to name a few. Sokka, as it turned out, was more than just a warrior; he was a true leader, an excellent strategist, and a mad scientist as well. Later, I found out that he had also become a swordsman. Katara was now a full-fledged master waterbender and healer, the Avatar's waterbending teacher, no less. I had to smile at the irony; the children I had left behind had already accomplished far more than I ever would have and were spearheading the war I thought I had shielded them from. Destiny always has a way, it seems.
Yesterday, I was informed that the war was over, that we had won. I was overjoyed with the news, but what I immediately asked about was my children. I was told that Sokka, along with Toph and Suki, were responsible for stopping Ozai's airships from getting to the Earth Kingdom. On the other hand, Katara, along with Zuko, were able to successfully defeat Azula. My heart swelled up with pride. When I asked where they were, however, I was told that I couldn't see them at the moment. Sokka was busy nursing a broken leg, while Katara, though unhurt, was busy taking care of those who were. I didn't have to ask to know who her main patient was.
It makes me both sad and happy to know that both have found love in their life; someone they are willing to stand beside forever, and someone who is willing to do the same for them.
I met Suki at The Boiling Rock, the Fire Nation's most secure prison. I can see why Sokka likes her so much; they think the same, like warriors. Both are nonbenders, yet they make up for it with their skill with weapons, as well as in physical combat. Both are smart and quick on their feet. Both are fearless. They're alike, which makes them the perfect match.
Katara's case is a bit more complicated, however. I'm a father; I'm not blind to the way the young Avatar looks at her, how he seems to live just to see her smile; I was the same way with Kya. And I'm certainly not blind to how much she cares about him, the way she was acting when the boy was unconscious.
It was like her whole world had fallen apart, like her happiness was tied to the boy's survival. Those first few days, she never left his room; we had to bring the food to her, otherwise she wouldn't eat at all. I knew she talked to him even when he was unconscious; I could hear her whenever I passed by the room. Other times, I heard her sobbing quietly. It was not until he awoke that she learned how to smile again.
I'm quite sure she reciprocates his feelings, but is in denial. It saddens me to see that in doing so, she hurts not only Aang, but herself as well. But she'll make sense of it soon, and it will only be a matter of time before the Avatar asks for my approval.
I'll give it wholeheartedly to him, of course. Though I understand that a life with the Avatar will surely be a challenge, I'm positive she can handle it. Besides, I see how she looks at him; I see how her face lights up around him. Aang brought back the laughing, smiling, fun-loving little girl in her, someone whom I have missed for years, and for that I am forever grateful.
He is a calming presence in her life; he's even-tempered (the complete opposite of my daughter) and selfless. I can't question his honor, bravery, loyalty, and love anymore than I can question my daughter's. I've also heard how she can get to him in a way no one else can (even being able to pull him out of the Avatar State). Unlike Sokka and Suki, they aren't alike. However, they complement each other, also making them a perfect match, though in a different way. Similar to Kya and I.
"And your mother will be proud, too," I continue, turning to Katara, whose eyes well up with tears as she touches her mother's necklace (which I now know was carved by Pakku).
I know she's somewhere nearby, watching us, enjoying this moment with us. She, too, knew that our children were destined for great things, and she believed in them endlessly. I know that she was with us every step of the way, that she never let us out of her sight. In fact, I'll bet she knows a lot more about our children than I do now.
Yes, I still have a lot of catching up to do with my children, and I fear that my time is short; I'm getting older each day and they're growing up much faster than I would like. But if there's anything I've learned, it's to live in the present; dwelling in the past and worrying about the future yield nothing but wasted time. I've learned that every second is worth cherishing, every moment should be lived to the fullest.
Suki and the other Kyoshi warriors appear, immediately putting a smile on Sokka's face. He greets them, and upon recognizing Ty Lee in a Kyoshi warrior outfit, he hobbles over to Suki and waves one of his crutches in the air in an effort to protect her. Suki and Ty Lee explain that Ty Lee really is a Kyoshi warrior, which he seems to have trouble believing.
I chuckle. Sokka will remain Sokka.
I turn to look at Katara. A shadow of a laugh is still on her lips, but I see her eyes are locked on the balcony, expectant.
Later, Aang comes out, and I'm a bit surprised. I guess I sort of expected some sort of triumphant hero in elegant robes, but all I saw was a kid in monk robes. No one could doubt the extreme humility in his expression.
I notice, though, that he seems to be looking at something. Or should I say, someone. I follow his gaze to Katara, whose expression seems to soften as she looks right back at him.
It's only a matter of time, I remind myself. They've got to grow up sometime.
But I'll always be their father. The proudest father in the world.
My second published one-shot! :D Yes, I have a habit of turning little ATLA scenes into lengthy one-shots.
So, what do you think of this? Reviews? Critiques? Please? :D
