[Sokka always thought he knew what it meant to be a man.]
Sokka always knew he was important. As he watched the men of their tribe sail away from the shores of the South Pole, his own father standing at the helm, Sokka knew that as the sole man remaining in their village, it was his duty to protect his own. Tucking Katara further in his own arm, he knew that from that day on, he would no longer be just some goofy little kid. He would be a man. He would make a difference.
Sokka threw his entire being into preserving his tribe. He taught the young boys, small children, really, left behind by their fathers, to be resilient. Sokka taught them how to hunt and how to fish. He taught them how to build a fire. He detailed out the intricacies of the Fire Nation and their raids. He taught them not to cry. He taught them how to be men.
Sokka rebuilt the outer-walls surrounding their quaint village. He added in a small watchtower. It had taken days of hauling heavy snow, and balancing precariously on the ice, to build the structure. Once he was done, he stood back, gazing at its glory rising above the small tents and igloos. It was a beacon of hope shining above their tribe. It signified the hope for the restoration of the Southern Water Tribe.
Katara seemed underwhelmed by all of his efforts, but no matter. Sokka wasn't looking out for his village and family for the praise – he was doing it because it was his duty as a man. Sokka would sit by the fire in the center of their village and watch his sister play with the small children and gossip with the older women. As long as his sister was smiling and happy, Sokka felt as if he was doing a good job. He was doing his dad proud.
Two years had passed since Sokka watched the men of his tribe leave their shores, and he was definitely not the same kid his father left behind. Sokka's gangly limbs had thickened and defined themselves with muscles. His voice, still cracking two years previous, had settled. Sokka even had to start shaving every morning (regardless of Katara's comments that three hairs weren't worth shaving).
If anyone asked Sokka about the state of their village, he would have beamed in pride. Even with the majority of their population fighting in the war, Sokka felt as if he had done a more than adequate job in rebuilding the village to its former glory. They had plenty of food and shelter. The children were happy. Katara was happy, and that was all Sokka needed.
Sokka always knew he was important, but that first crack made in the iceberg by Katara's show of waterbending also wore the first crack in Sokka's veneer. Out tumbled some little kid, all smiles and tricks, and suddenly, Sokka saw a gleam in his sister's eyes that he had never seen there before – hope.
Katara had just been holding on and managing for the sake of their village. She was happy, but not content. Sokka thought he had been doing a good job as a brother and a guardian, but when that kid Aang came swooping in and usurped his position, suddenly, Sokka doubted all of the hard work he had put into making Katara happy.
She had never laughed with Sokka the way she did while chasing after the bald monk. Katara was never so confident in her abilities as a bender until Aang came and opened up a whole new world to her. When Katara had made up her mind to go after the airbender, Sokka knew then and there his whole life would change. He couldn't let his sister, the girl he promised his father he would protect, to go off on her own, chasing down some stranger and a dream. Sokka knew he would have to leave the comfort and familiarity of the tribe.
Their adventures were exciting, there was no doubting that. Sokka sometimes wondered how he was ever satisfied with the mundane life in the South Pole. Then, Aang and Katara would run off, giggling, about some super-secret bending project, and Sokka would be left behind. His skills as a warrior and years of training did not seem to hold a candle to those who possessed some inherent magical abilities.
There were days where Aang and Katara just seemed to flow together, like the water they would bend together between their hands. It would flow all around them, glittering in the sunlight, pulling them closer together. Sokka was not blind. He knew how the young avatar felt about his sister. He also knew his sister well enough to recognize her own stubbornness from a mile away. It was on the days where the two benders only had eyes for each other, splashing water every where, that Sokka felt the most alone. There was no room in their circle for him, and he didn't feel as if he had the right to intrude.
It wasn't until they reached the North Pole when Sokka finally found a kindred spirit in the form of Princess Yue. Among the massive spires of ice and snow, Sokka could see the love Yue held for her people. It was the same love Sokka felt for his small tribe of mismatched women in the South Pole. Yue was gentle, kind, and brave. She would do anything for her people. Unfortunately, that conviction became her undoing when she sacrificed herself for her people to become the moon spirit.
Weeks had passed since their battle at the North Pole, and while Katara and Aang continued on like everything was status quo, Sokka could not help but flinch every time the moon shone down upon them. Sokka never really looked at the moon very carefully before. Living in the artic, they could go weeks with only sunlight, and he was never bothered. Now, in the small daylight hours of the Earth Kingdom, Sokka would both dread and yearn for the moon.
On their journey towards Gaoling, the gang had settled for camp at a nice cove, with a large enough body of water for Aang and Katara to practice in. As they were playing in the water as only benders can, Sokka crept away. Tonight was a full moon, and Sokka had someone he wanted to talk to.
Sokka walked up a steep hill, and upon reaching the top, lowered himself to the ground. The moon glowed in radiance, low on the horizon, making it appear much larger than it would later in the night. Sokka did not remember the moon ever looking quite so beautiful as it did in that very moment. Yet, he still could remember the beauty that Princess Yue exerted, even when sitting in a crowded hall at the North Pole.
Sokka scrunched up his face to prevent tears from forming. He was a warrior. He was a man. Men don't cry. He repeated his mantra over and over to himself, until the words began to lose meaning.
"Hey, Yue," Sokka started slowly. "So how's life? Does it get lonely up there by yourself? I don't want you to get lonely."
Sokka dug his feet into the dirt, as if waiting for a reply he knew he would never get. "I miss you. I know we didn't know each other long, but…" Sokka broke off, worrying his lower lip as he tried to think of what to say next. "I felt important to you. Traveling with Katara and the avatar, a guy can lose himself, you know? You, though, you didn't care that I didn't have any magical abilities. You didn't care that I was from the South Pole. You liked me for me, and saw me as a man."
Sokka rested his chin on his knees, and cast his eyes away from the moon, "I don't know what a man is anymore. I thought I did, but time and time again, I failed. I failed to protect Katara, I failed to protect my village." A small sob broke free from Sokka's throat. "I failed to protect you, Yue, and I am so sorry for that. I am so sorry."
Sokka remained on the grassy hill, until the moon was high in the sky, giving in to his moment of weakness. He let tears run down his face. He let himself feel weak. For years, Sokka had trained himself on the importance of standing strong, but what good was it if you couldn't protect the ones you love? What kind of man was he?
Sokka wasn't sure what a man was, anymore, but he did know he would not find out by sitting here, and wallowing in his sorrows. Lifting his head once more to gaze at the bright full moon, Sokka wiped his eyes, and headed back towards his sister and Aang. Sokka might not be important, but he knew two people who were.