A/N: Hey guys, merc0 here. I'm starting up a new fic, this time set in the real world, revolving around my favorite Avatar boys, Sokka and Zuko. Just a heads up, Sokka's surname is Kopanuk, an Inuit surname. Hope you enjoy this one just as much as you enjoyed Outcasts. Also, I'm thinking of doing another AU story involving Zuko and Sokka in the war. Tell me what you think. Anyway, ON WITH THE STORYTIEM!

Warmth and darkness enveloped him like a cocoon

Warmth and darkness enveloped him like a cocoon. In that moment, Sokka Kopanuk was content with knowing that, and only that. He was adrift in the sheltered harbor of sleep, and nothing would stir him from his slum-

"SOKKA, GET UP NOW! YOU'RE GONNA BE LATE!" The young Inuit man started from sleep, scared out of his wits by the shrill feminine voice that had pierced the dark curtain of his slumber. At last he saw it, a young dark skinned girl standing at his bedroom door, her face as serious as the grave.

"Alright, alright. I'm up," he muttered dragging himself out of bed. The Inuit boy smacked his lips a few times as he clumsily fumbled around his closet for his school uniform; a hideous vision of maroon velvet weaved into a jacket and pants. The jacket had a gold crest embroidered on it, showing a charging white buffalo on it, the sigil of the school he was to start that day. Along with a white dress shirt with the same sigil, he dragged the suit out, putting it on haphazardly. Mumbling, he put on a pair of shoes and trudged to the bathroom.

Looking at himself in the mirror, Sokka saw the reflection of a dull-faced Native American boy with a tangled mass of hair styled in a traditional Yupik Indian hairstyle. The sides and back of his head were completely shaved, while the top was allowed to grow out long. Taking a hair brush, he quickly and painfully brushed out the tangled mess and pulled it back into a short ponytail.

Leaving the bathroom, he walked into the den of his new home, where his backpack, sister, and father were all waiting on him.

"It's about time!" his sister, Katara, said. "A snail would be faster than you!"

"Hey!" he shouted at her, morning lethargy now fading away. "I was up and ready in ten minutes. That was pretty fast, compared to you!"

"Well, I'm a girl! And I got up earlier so that we wouldn't be late!" she shouted back.

"Stop it, you two!" The other occupant of the room, Sokka's father, commanded. The large, imposing man glared at his children sternly. "If you keep arguing, then we'll be late and it'll be both of your faults. Now come on, before morning traffic picks up." He paused for a moment, looking at Sokka before smirking. "You look like a ketchup bottle."

--

The buzzing sound of an alarm clock woke up Zuko Kaneshiro that morning. The young Japanese man was used to this routine, having come up with it and sticking to it ages before. Getting out of bed and moving to the center of his large room, the boy did a small set of calisthenics before heading to his closet. It took him only a moment to find a proper uniform. His closet was sorted for different occasions. Formal, school, semi-formal, casual, and so on.

After laying his clothes out for the morning, he headed to his bathroom, connected his room. After a quick shower, the boy hopped out, toweled off, and brushed his teeth, shaved, and quickly ran a horse brush through his short raven hair, the entire time staring into an even amber gaze.

After he finished with the trivialities of the morning routine, he dressed, put on a pair of designer loafers, and left his room, heading to his dining room. It was a large and elegant room, decorated with old, sensible, and valuable family antiques. In the center of the room ran a long table with many chairs, though at the moment only a girl about a year younger than Zuko's seventeen sat at the table, eating quietly. She wore a variant of the maroon outfit Zuko was, with the only difference being that she was wearing a black-and-maroon plaid skirt.

"Good morning, Azula," he greeted vaguely, sitting down across from her, where a breakfast of eggs, powdered toast, and sausage was waiting for him.

"Morning, brother," she said in a resigned tone. "Father already left. I assume you're giving me a ride to school?" He nodded quietly. That exchange was the only one they had that morning, with Azula following Zuko to the silver sports car that he had gotten as a gift from their father on his seventeenth birthday.

Zuko watched the scenery change dully as they made their way across town, the outside world not truly interesting him. He was vaguely aware of music playing from his stereo, some overly depressing song from a band with an equally depressing name his sister listened to, but once again, he wasn't paying attention. His mind was focused inward instead, going over what he had to do that day. He was an admitted introvert, and few people could argue the opposite. His mind was usually elsewhere, only coming back to the world around him when people addressed him or when it was necessary. Many people confronted him about this state of mind, and when asked, Zuko

Zuko's thoughts continued along this vein until at last the two were driving up the path to the prestigious Catherine Saint Preparatory Academy.

--

"Wow, it's huge!" Katara exclaimed as their father parked at the front entrance. "Are you sure it wasn't a fluke that you got in, Sokka?" The older boy glared at the twelve-year-old girl admonishingly.

"Katara, leave your brother alone," their father commanded. Sokka smiled appreciatively and opened the door of the SUV that they'd arrived in. Catherine Saint was one of the most prestigious schools in California. Located in Santa Barbara, the school was located in a fairly isolated area in one of the richer parts of the city. The only way one would be considered to be allowed into the confines of the school was if a family had money, or if the student was smart enough to gain a scholarship to pay for the high tuition fees of the school. After moving from Anchorage, Alaska, at the behest of the company Hakoda Kopanuk worked for, Sokka had taken the entrance exam for the school on a whim. In an odd twist of fate, Sokka had gotten high enough marks that the school had sent a letter of acceptance as well as a notification that his tuition would be paid in full by scholarship, if he so chose to attend. Proud of his child, Hakoda had urged the boy to take up this opportunity.

And now was the day he would see if he would live up to and deserve this opportunity. Getting out of the car, Sokka walked to the front doors and entered, ready for almost anything.