Tsssssss pah! Ts tssssss pah!Ts Tssssss pah! Ts tssssss…

The slow pattern of the drums filled the patron's ears of the Blue Monk. The café was packed with people of all shapes and sizes. Benders and nonbenders alike huddled over its squatty square tables to relax and listen to the music, some sipping on wine and making hushed idle chatter, others intently focused on the drummer onstage.

The rhythm was soon filled in by another musician on a two-stringed instrument played with a bow, who began to stream a melody that balanced well with the soft patter of the percussionist.

Tsssssss pah! Ts tssssss pah!Ts Tssssss pah!

The musicians played off of each other in a graceful dance, now the drummer banging out a loud pah PAH! to end a phrase, now the stringed-instrument player filling in the spaces with notes of gentleness and caring, as if he were whispering to a lover.

The former remained arched over his kit, his eyes closed tightly in fierce concentration. He moved with a fluid grace of an expert, but kept his arms controlled and rigid, never letting his beat slack. His partner was leaned back in his chair with a crooked grin on his face. He had a relaxed confidence that demanded respect, his demeanor never allowing for a mistake.

The instruments and their players were so different, but worked so well together. The musicians exchanged only the occasional glance throughout the performance. Each knew exactly what the other was doing.

Tsssssss pah! Ts tssssss pah!Ts Tssssss pah!

This was a new type of music, one that Sokka had never heard before.

"What is this? What are they playing?"

"It's called 'jazz'! Isn't it lovely? They say it's the newest thing, and that it started right here in Omashu!" A young man sitting next to the water tribesman replied excitedly.

"Yeah, it does sound pretty good. I think I could get used to it."

Sokka couldn't help but crack a smile as he eyed the two musicians on the small stage. He was never much of a music lover, but the sound of jazz excited him, causing his mind to wander until he almost forgot about the small cup of plum wine sitting in front of him. He swung back the drink, glad for the relief of the muddled humors in the air.

The water tribesman had been smiling for weeks. Having recently celebrated with Aang and Katara in Ba Sing Se for the third anniversary of the end of the war, he had made up his mind to return home to assist his father in the long rebuilding process of the Southern Water Tribe.

The Avatar was soon to meet Fire Lord Zuko in the Fire Nation Capital to discuss the construction of a new city- the hearth of the republic. Sokka had at first offered to go with his friend, but after much deliberation made the decision to return to his long expectant home and his even more expectant father.

Katara knew there was something Sokka wasn't telling her. It wasn't unusual for him to become excited over small things, but she sensed an ulterior motive of her brother. He talked about the trip every day, sometimes becoming so wound up about it that he would stumble over his words and burst out laughing midsentence. It didn't make sense to her. She understood that he missed his father just as much as she did, but she didn't think she would be that happy to return the South Pole. Every time she asked him about it, though, he would respond the same way-

"I dunno, I guess I'm just excited to go back home!"

Aang had offered to bring Sokka all the way to the South Pole, but the water tribesman refused, saying he would rather be dropped off in Omashu in order to prevent his friend go too far out of his way. The Avatar thought this was curious, as the few extra hours of flying time on Appa would hardly delay his arrival, but Sokka was persistent, saying he had some "errands to run" on his way home.

The water tribesman took another sip of wine, and smiled again as the musicians rounded up the song. The combination of a good dinner, good wine, and good music had put him in a very good mood.

Tssssss pah ts tsssssss pahdah pahPAH!

With a final crash and roll on the cymbals, their dance ended.

The drummer gave a quick nod to the other musician, and they made a synchronized bow as the patrons of the café clapped and whistled in fervent applause.

I have GOT to come back to this place! Sokka thought as he downed the remainder of his drink.

Dropping a few coins on the table on his way out, the 18-year-old man entered once more into the city, and took a deep breath of the chilled air before setting off towards an inn down the street. With a spring in his step and a harrowing attempt to whistle the melody he had just finished hearing, Sokka began to think about the events of the days ahead with anticipation.

After three long years, he was finally going to return home. He missed home. He missed his father and grandmother. He missed the responsibilities of being a man of the Southern Water Tribe. He missed the hunting season, the thrill of penguin sledding, and even the Pole's harsh, icy winds. His mind was not on these things as he entered his room and rolled in to bed, though. The reason for his journey did not lie several hundred miles to the south, but just a few days walking distance down the road in Gaoling. As he shut his eyes and prepared for sleep, he was not thinking about any facet of his childhood, but the company of an old friend. What Sokka missed most was Toph.

Thanks to COCAINE_LAZOR_BEAM on reddit for the editing! More to come...