A/N:
Hey all! We're a team of two best friends co-writing stories, and all-in-all we're pretty new to writing fanfictions so please read and leave some positive feedback/constructive criticism for us when you're done! Thanks!
–Qian and Mausumi
Disclaimer:
We don't own Avatar: the Last Airbender! We are also not making any money off of our fanfiction works, and we probably never will! As such, this disclaimer applies to this chapter and all chapters to come though we will repeat the disclaimer throughout.
Warnings:
We don't think people should have to be warned when they're about to read queer/LGBT/shounen-ai/yaoi stories, because honestly, if you have to be warned then you probably have some homophobic/heterosexist issues you have to work through on your own time :) Have fun reading!
Happenstance in a Prism
The Lost Match
By Qian Mausumi
"Yeah Zuko, c'mon! Kickthat guy's ass!" screamed someone from the crowd. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of the teenager's face, collecting at the corner of his jaw, before it fell to the padded floor with a soft splatter. His body shone brightly, naked torso glistening with moisture, reflecting the incandescent lights of the gymnasium. Looking up at the opponent, Zuko planted his feet firmly on the ground, bringing toned arms into an offensive position in front of him, causing defined muscles to ripple with the effort. He was breathing heavily now, still winded and shaking slightly from the harsh blow he took to his side just moments before.
But he was determined to win. It was absolutely necessarythat he beat his opponent.
Inhaling deeply, Zuko furrowed his brow in concentration, eyes narrowed at the other boy whose breath was disrupted by ragged bursts due to the effort of his attack. He held his stance for a moment, waiting for his opponent to strike again, intent on the kill. A slight shift, and Zuko sprung forth, aiming his fist in the direction of the other teenager's set jaw.
Sokka sighed as he watched Suki's retreating form grow smaller in the distance, eventually disappearing from view as she abruptly turned the corner after twisting her head back and giving Sokka a slight smile. Stuffing his books in his bag and heaving it onto his back, he pushed a stray strand of hair out of his face and used the back of his hand to wipe his lips dry, which had still been wet from the kiss he had shared with Suki just moments ago. Trudging down the hallway, all thoughts of his girlfriend vanished as deafening cheers erupted from the gymnasium to his left. Now curious, he peered into the room, just in time to witness Zuko's quick recovery from another forceful attack.
He missed. The boy had dodged his attack at the last second and kicked Zuko in the gut. But using his fall to his advantage, Zuko propelled his body in a circular motion with his arms, flinging his outstretched leg at his opponent's feet, knocking him down.
Sokka watched the fighters' movements with utmost fascination. The two bodies seemed to flow together in ways unlike any normal sort of brawl. Instead of choppy and animalistic motions, these movements were precise and calculated, graceful and dangerous all at the same time.
This was an art.
Clearly gaining the upper hand, Zuko paused to look up into the stands, briefly meeting his father's scrutinizing gaze with a cold glare of his own. Azula, his sister, was seated next to their father, one side of her mouth tugged upward in a lopsided smirk, eyes dancing with the usual conniving flame.
You know what'll happen if you lose . . . Brother, she mouthed, eyes widening with a slightly maniacal look, head jutting forward to emphasize the last word. A larger, satisfied sneer graced her lips as she folded her arms and sat back in her seat, gazing at her brother unblinkingly.
More than slightly unnerved, Zuko turned back to his opponent, aware that even a moment's distraction could cost him the match.
Sokka noticed this exchange of glances, but didn't think much of it. He was too mesmerized by the match to seriously note the tension between the family members. All of his focus was on Zuko, and the more Sokka was drawn in by the match, the more the brunet couldn't help but admire Zuko's fierce stance—assertive, but unassuming. His mouth hung slack with disbelief as he watched the teen begin another onslaught of kicks and punches at his opponent.
He agilely dodged any counter attacks that the opposing teenager threw his way, and after only seconds more of his rapid blows, Zuko felt his opponent slow, the latter's defensive maneuvers now far less effective. Zuko's next few blows were met without resistance. Feeling that victory was near, he diminished the force of his strikes, taking pity on his opponent. But suddenly, the insufferable image of Azula flashed before his eyes. You're too soft, Zuzu. If you want to win, then crush the opponent. Make him suffer . . . Forcing the scene from his thoughts, Zuko disregarded his sister's words, unwilling to inflict needless pain upon the other boy. Even so, he gritted his teeth, preparing his stance to throw his finishing punch. Then . . .
A staggering blow to the head caused him to lose consciousness.
Sokka's already open mouth dropped open even more. The teen had been fighting so effortlessly, with such elegance—but all of that had been wiped away without a trace when Zuko was gracelessly knocked down, falling with a great THWUMP! to the padded floor, a lone softball lying at his feet.
Sokka looked up in shock, attempting to locate the cause of Zuko's injury, when a rather boyish-looking girl caught his eye. She looked around the room in a panic, jumped down from the stands, and bolted towards the exit where Sokka stood. Evading the numerous people attempting in vain to seize her, short frizzy hair waving wildly, the girl roughly pushed Sokka aside, nearly knocking him flat on the floor, and continued sprinting down the hallway, eventually turning into the girls' bathroom.
Sokka turned back around to watch the chaotic scene unfold inside the gymnasium.
"Due to unforeseen circumstances, Zuko is no longer able to fight. Therefore, the winner is . . . JET!"
A mixture of boos, hisses, and cheers erupted from the crowd.
Sokka watched as the spectators and other team members began to filter out of the room. The crowd slowly passed him out the door, and every now and then he would receive a puzzled or worried look—Sokka hadn't budged since the end of the match, except for the repeated motion of opening his mouth and closing it, only to open it again and snap it shut once more. To the parting crowd, he looked very much like a fish out of water. He was still stunned by the startling outcome of the fight.
Finally snapping back to reality, Sokka spotted Jet heading off to the boys locker room. Sokka glared for a moment, then hurried after the teen, looking back into the gymnasium just long enough to spot Zuko's motionless body still sprawled out at the center of the padded floor.
Not forgetting his hot pursuit of Jet, Sokka quickly turned around, only to run head-on into the closing locker room door. Furiously rubbing his offended forehead, the brunet kicked open the door, muttering curses under his breath. But Sokka didn't have much time to spare thinking about his throbbing skull, because no sooner had he entered the tiled room, than he heard the smug voices of Jet and his ragtag band echoing off the walls.
"That was great!"
"Yeah, I can't believe we pulled it off!"
"Nice job, Jet!"
Jet smirked, eyes twinkling in obvious pleasure, before raising his hand in order silence the group.
"Hey, I wouldn't have been able to do it without Smellerbee. Where is she, anyway?"
"Jet, this is the boys' locker room," said the Duke uncertainly.
Jet snorted, "Like that's ever stopped her before."
As if on cue, Smellerbee tumbled out of the vent located high up on the wall, close to the ceiling, landing squarely on top of Sokka. Blinking twice in order to clear the image of bursting stars from his eyes, the brunet turned his head to find the androgynous-looking girl staring down at him, straddling his middle back with one foot on either side of his body.
"What are you doing here?" the girl spat, without making the slightest effort to stand up.
"I should ask you the same question," Sokka grumbled, twisting to disentangle himself from her, and turning over to get into a more dignified sitting position, "This is the boys' locker room."
"Like that's ever stopped me before," Smellerbee snorted, unknowingly echoing Jet.
Hearing the commotion on the other side of the lockers, Jet swiftly walked over towards Sokka, towering over the other boy who was still seated on the ground.
Jet looked over at the shorter brunet with both brows raised, surprise evident on his face. "So Sokka . . . how'd you like the show?" he inquired, a smirk tugging at his lips. Leaning down slightly, Jet offered his hand to Sokka. Unsure as to whether or not he should accept the polite gesture, Sokka stared at his outstretched arm for a moment, but then hesitantly grabbed Jet's hand and pulled himself up, feeling an intense heat radiate from Jet's bare chest.
Sokka dusted himself off, and glared up at Jet. "That was an awful thing to do. I wouldn't have marked you as the type to stoop so low as to cheat just to win a stupid tournament. You didn't deserve to win that match."
Jet shook his head, his smirk darkening. "Aside from how I ended the fight," he stepped forward, waving his hand dismissively. His face was now mere inches above Sokka's, looking down at him, "did you enjoy yourself, watching the two of us . . . going at it? Hm?" Sokka's glare hardened, as a faint blush graced his features. He slowly stepped away from the boy in front of him.
Jet's smirk was still plastered to his face as he stepped forward to bring his body closer to Sokka's once more, emanating heat waves as his unclothed torso came dangerously near the smaller boy's face. "What's wrong? Are you telling me that the sight of us thrusting into each other didn't give you any pleasure? That's a shame."
In the background, Smellerbee rolled her eyes, and muttered to her companions, "Oh, god. Here we go again. Jet just can't keep his hands off of the poor kid!" The boys nodded fervently, the Duke adding in a whisper, "Yeah, but when Jet isn't hitting on Sokka, they act pretty friendly towards each other." Smellerbee nodded, agreeing with the Duke's statement, and then motioned for the group to exit the locker room, leaving the other two boys alone.
Sokka watched as the group filed into the hallway, then reverted his gaze back to Jet, staring directly into the taller boy's eyes, gaze unflinching. "I'm tired of repeating myself like a broken record. I'm notinto you. I have a girlfriend. You know, Suki? I like her a lot."
"So what if you have a girlfriend? She doesn't have to know. But you're lying anyway. You can't hide it from me. You were watching us. I sawyou watching, with your mouth hanging open, practically drooling all over yourself."
Sokka narrowed his eyes at Jet. "I was just impressed with your match. After all, it was really close, and I'm not so sure you would have won if you hadn't forced Smellerbee to knock Zuko out." Sokka paused, drawing himself up before continuing, "And even if I was drooling, who says that youwere the one I was drooling over?" he asked coolly, causing Jet's face to color.
"I can't believe you—" the older boy began furiously.
"Save it, Jet. I told you, I don't think of you like that." Sokka shouldered past Jet, making his way towards the exit.
"Wait! Sokka! Come back! I'll back off! I'm sorry!" Jet called after him. Sokka ignored the other boy's pleas however, and throwing the door open, left Jet to stand in the middle of the locker room, staring in shock as the heavy door closed slowly behind Sokka.
Damnit. That kind of just . . . came out. Sokka cradled his head in his hands, gripping his hair in frustration. I wasn't really drooling, I was just impressed with their fight. That's all. It was pretty amazing . . . maybe I should join the martial arts team. Suki would be impressed by that, right?
Calming down a little after his confrontation with Jet, Sokka walked confidently back towards the gymnasium where he knew a sign-up sheet would be posted on the large cork board hanging just to the left of the door. He didn't know why, but the thought of joining the team caused a warm fluttering sensation to fill his stomach. Sokka smiled and opened the door.
He was about to walk in when he heard a voice coming from inside the room. He paused a moment and peered around the partially opened door to see who was speaking.
The gymnasium was completely empty, save two figures, one male lying spread-eagle on the ground, the other, a girl, hovering menacingly above the former. Sokka identified the boy still lying on the floor. That must be Zuko, but it's hard to see the girl.Sokka waited.
"Wake up, Zuzu. I don't have time for this." Azula rolled her eyes and kicked freely at Zuko's limp body. "Father is waiting out in the car and if we're late, he will notbe pleased," she stated, more to herself than to Zuko, who at that moment moved just slightly, slowly coming back into consciousness.
Azula perked up at that. "Oh good, you're back." She smiled tauntingly down at Zuko, her arms folded across her chest.
"Ugh . . . what happened?" Zuko groaned and tried to sit up, but a sharp pain coursed through his body with almost every movement. He opted for lying back down. Zuko looked up at Azula and asked, still slightly delusional, "What am I doing on the floor? Where is everyone?" His head was throbbing.
"Oh, Zuzu." Azula sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face while still holding an air of arrogance and superiority. "I pity you. You lost the tournament, and Father is positively fuming." Her eyes looked down at him with a glint of amusement. "The crowd has long since departed after your atrociousdefeat."
"Azula, how did I lose?" His brow furrowed in confusion. "I was—I was so close to winning, how could I have possibly failed?" Zuko snarled. His voice rose with every word until he was practically shouting at Azula, and by the end of his outburst he was sitting bolt upright, scowling directly into Azula's belittling stare.
Shaking her head, she examined her nails and responded to Zuko's fit in a matter-of-fact tone. "Tsk, tsk Brother. You were knocked out by a cheap softball, of all things. I can't believe you would dishonor us by falling to the likes of that, Zuzu. Pitiful."
". . . And Father is angry?" Zuko looked to the floor awaiting Azula's response.
"Oh yes my dear Brother, Father is more than just angry. He is outraged at your defeat." She paused to let her words sink in a smirk playing on her lips. "I fear what will become of you once Father is through with his punishment, whatever it may be."
Sokka looked on with a mixture of intrigue and fear. This was by far the most violent family interaction he had ever seen in his life. He could neverimagine himself in that situation with Katara verbally abusing him or vice versa for that matter. The brunet shook his head. Not wanting this discussion between Zuko and his younger sister to continue, Sokka obnoxiously entered the room, hoping that any and all sounds he made would alert the two to his presence.
It worked.
Azula's head snapped up in agitation, eyes now focusing on the cause of the disturbance, and her expression darkened as a glower fixed upon her face, clearly displeased. Azula quickly straightened herself into a more dignified posture. Feeling the gross intensity of her stare, Sokka's eyes widened and he held his breath, not moving in the slightest as she walked stiffly passed him out of the room, glaring daggers at Sokka on her way out.
Once the startling girl's footsteps could no longer be heard stomping down the hallway, Sokka exhaled noisily, bringing a hand to his forehead. "I thought she was going to kill me!" He breathed with relief.
Zuko watched the boy's antics for a second and then quickly began to stand up, ignoring the pain in his head and the dizzy feeling he got from moving too fast.
Hearing his groans of pain, Sokka hesitantly interjected "W-wait. You probably shouldn't be moving like that. You were knocked out cold for a while, I don't think it'd be smart to get up just—Hey are you listening to me?"
Too caught up in his current goal to stand upright without passing out again, Zuko ignored the boy who was, at that point, flailing his arms wildly through the air motioning for him to stop moving.
"Or don't listen to me." Sokka sighed in defeat and looked up at the boy who was now slowly making his way towards him in long, confident strides.
Stopping abruptly before reaching the other boy, Zuko stared at Sokka, who continued to unconsciously wave his hands about his head in a vain attempt to stop the older teen from moving, evidently perplexed.
"What are you doing?"
Sokka felt an unfamiliar swooping sensation in the pit of his stomach as he let his arms fall limply to his sides. "I was, uh . . . well, you really shouldn't be moving around, like I said before."
Zuko raised one eyebrow. "And why do you care?" He scoffed incredulously, and turning his head to the side, looked away from Sokka at the gym floor. "You don't even know me. You saw my sister, didn't you? For sixteen years we've lived in the same house together. And she cares more about her nail beds than she cares about me," Zuko finished bitterly, tearing his eyes away from the foam-covered ground to look at Sokka dead in the eye.
Sokka's heart leapt into his throat as the other boy's eyes locked onto his own. "Well I . . . you seem like a nice guy, and I don't think you deserve to pull a muscle or something from moving too much in your state."
Zuko raised his eyebrow once again. "Pull a muscle? I was knocked unconscious."
"Hey!" Sokka started to argue, flustered, his voice cracking as he spoke louder, and began to gesture enthusiastically with his hands as if they would help him prove his point. "It could happen!"
Zuko continued gazing at Sokka, a brief flicker of mirth illuminating his golden eyes before fading away, the smallest of smiles unwillingly tugging at the corners of his lips. He motioned towards the bleachers. "Well if you were so concerned, why didn't you just tell me to sit down?" Zuko asked, the faintest amount of amusement coloring his voice.
"Well, then, let's sit down!" Sokka responded promptly, purposefully striding towards the bleachers and plopping himself down in the first row of seats before looking at Zuko intently. "Well, what're you waiting for? The only reason I sat down was for you."
Slightly bemused, not knowing why he was bothering to humor the younger boy, and fully aware that his father would be even more furious due to his late arrival, Zuko made his way to the stands and sat down next to Sokka.
"Is this better? I'm not exerting myself anymore," the fair-skinned boy said, amusement still alight in his voice, as he turned his body in order to properly face Sokka.
"Yeah," Sokka responded briefly, turning his head away so that the other boy wouldn't notice the heat rushing to his face. "It is." Valiantly attempting to regain his composure, he turned towards Zuko, and introduced himself. "I'm Sokka, by the way. In the junior class." He held out his hand for the other boy to shake.
Zuko glanced at the hand tentatively, then firmly grasped it, and looked up to stare Sokka straight in the eyes. "Zuko. I—"
"You don't need to introduce yourself. Everyone knows who you are. Zuko, the cool and aloof heartthrob who makes the girls go crazy without even trying," Sokka gazed back at Zuko, his hand still being tightly held by the other boy.
"Did you just call me a heartthrob?" Zuko asked, bewildered.
Realization dawning on him, Sokka panicked and blurted out, "What? I—uh . . . n-no! That's just . . . what my sister always says! Yeah! Eh-heh . . ." Noticing that he was still holding hands with the other boy, Sokka yanked his arm from Zuko's grip, and looking away once more, blushed furiously.
"Right." Struggling to switch the subject, Zuko asked, "So what grade is your sister in?"
The redness coloring his face receding, Sokka turned to face the older boy once more, before responding, "Tenth. She's fifteen. She seems to have a thing for senior guys. Like you and Jet."
Something in Zuko's face tautened. "Interesting. So both of our sisters are in the same grade." His voice sounded slightly constricted, as if he was suppressing anger.
Thoroughly wishing that he had not brought up the subject of Jet, Sokka continued on, "Yeah. They're sort of rivals. Both of them model students, competing for the teachers' attention. You know how it is, right."
Zuko laughed bitterly. "Yeah. Except I'm sure yoursister doesn't use a combination of intimidation and manipulation to get what she wants."
Sokka mentally smacked himself in the forehead. This conversation was notgoing where he wanted it to go. Changing the subject, he asked, "So how do you like being on the martial arts team? I'm thinking of joining."
Zuko looked surprised at this, and while surveying Sokka's body, responded, "Yeah. But you have to be prepared for a lotof hard work. So what style do you fight?"
"Um . . . well, I've tried tai chi before, but I never really got into it. My sister's amazing at it, though." Sokka looked down, feeling foolish at his lack of experience compared to the seeming demigod sitting next to him. "What about you?"
"Northern Shaolin style kung fu. But you doknow how difficult it'll be for you to start as a total beginner don't you? Are you sure you want to do this?"
Sokka nodded assuredly. "Of course."
Zuko smiled slightly. "I admire your resolve," he said, causing Sokka's cheeks to turn faintly pink.
"How cute."
Both Zuko and Sokka looked up simultaneously. Azula stood across the room from them, arms folded across her chest, eyes twinkling with a malicious glee. "So, Zuzu, you seem to have made a new friend. How unlike you."
"What do you want, Azula?" Zuko enquired, though he already knew the answer.
"You're late, Zuzu. Father is most displeased. You knowthat he doesn't like to be kept waiting."
"Well, then tell him I'm coming. I'll be out shortly."
Azula's eyes narrowed in obvious displeasure. "I'm not your little messenger. I said, Father is waiting. Now comewith me."
"And I said that I'd be out shortly," Zuko fired back, getting riled up, "I'm not ready to leave right away."
Azula's eyes flashed towards Sokka, glinting with a malevolent light that caused shivers to run down his spine. "You shouldn't put . . . that," she began, nodding in Sokka's direction, "of higher importance than matters concerning our family. I'm surprised at you, Zuko. I thought family meant more to you than this."
As Azula exited the gymnasium, Zuko let out a long sigh. "I should go." He stood up, before continuing, "It was nice meeting you."
He had already turned around and started walking towards the exit when Sokka stood up and called out, "Wait!" Running up to him, he said "Shouldn't you get something to wear? You can't go outside without a shirt on! It's freezing, you might get sick! Where is your shirt anyway?"
For the first time throughout their entire conversation, Zuko smiled. Not a small, slight smile affecting just the lips, but a real, full smile that extended to his eyes and transformed his whole appearance. "It's in the locker room, but I don't have time to get it. I don't know what'll happen if my father has to wait any longer."
"But you can't go outside like that!" Sokka protested, "Here . . ." He unzipped the blue hooded sweatshirt he was wearing, revealing a long-sleeved t-shirt worn underneath a short-sleeved shirt with the buttons undone on top of it. Sokka held the sweatshirt out to Zuko. "It might be a little small, but at least it'll keep you warm."
Staring at the clothing for a second before accepting it, Zuko said jokingly, eyes twinkling with happiness, "You know, girls are always trying to get me to walk around shirtless. But you're here trying to get me to put on this sweatshirt." Zuko pulled the blue hoodie around his bare shoulders, and then zipped it up, looking at Sokka thankfully.
"Well, I'm not a girl," Sokka responded very matter-of-factly.
"No," said Zuko, sounding almost regretful, "you're not."
A/N:
Right-o so hopefully you won't think that you've just wasted your life after reading that. Mausumi and I hope you liked the story and there are many more chapters to come! (we're already working on the second) So R&R!
Thanks! Xie Xie! Dhanyavaad! o.0;;