Disclaimer:
We do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, nor are we profiting off of this fanfiction in anyway!
Happenstance in a Prism
The Jasmine Dragon
By Qian Mausumi
Sokka held his breath as he watched Zuko exit the gymnasium. His heart was pounding and his stomach was doing cartwheels. No one except Suki had ever had that kind of effect on him. Especially not a guy. He stayed seated on the bench, his elbows resting on his knees, hands supporting his head. The brunet stared hard at the floor for some time, trying to suppress the grin that was ready to break through. He bit his lip.
Beep, beep, beep! Sokka looked at his watch. "Ah 3:30? Shit, Katara must be waiting for me!" Sokka jumped up and stumbled out the door, ran through the hallways, and to the front of the building where Katara and Toph stood glaring at Sokka.
Katara tapped her foot, hands on her hips. "Where were you! We've been waiting for over half an hour!"
Panting, he looked up at the two girls and smiled sheepishly. "Uh . . . sorry, I got a little er . . . sidetracked . . ."
"Oh yeah sure just a little sidetracked that's it." Toph rolled her eyes.
"Wait! Now that's not fair! I didget sidetracked, and I'll have you know that I actually signed myself up for the martial arts team!" Sokka announced proudly.
Silence. The two girls looked up at him stunned and then simultaneously burst out laughing.
"Haha Sokka, that's a good one!" Toph yelled, clutching her stomach.
"Yeah, don't you remember when Gran Gran tried teaching us Tai Chi? You moved like such an oaf!"
"Hey, shut up!" Sokka scowled. "Now while I may not have been as good as you were, I wasn't thatbad at Tai Chi."
"Oh yes you were, you just couldn't see yourself! Gran Gran looked like she was about to have a heart attack!" A new wave of laughter filled the two younger girls, leaving Sokka to stand there staring at them angrily.
Sokka huffed. "Katara, she always looks like that!" He sighed, then gave in. "C'mon, let's just go home."
He turned to leave, letting the heavy school doors slam shut behind him, and he didn't stop even when he could hear the doors being opened with a soft suction and a squeak.
Two forms swiftly rushed to his sides, matching their paces with his, and ignored his all-too-obvious agitation. The smaller began whistling.
"So anyway," Katara continued, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face, "I want to stop off at that new café in town before we go home, they're having their grand opening today." She looked at Sokka who, she noted peering at his slouched demeanour out of the corner of her eye, was still moping. A grin tugged at her lips. "C'mon Sokka, I know you're going to like it! There might even be free food!"
At this, her brother's ears perked up and his blue eyes brightened in unmistakable glee. His eyes and mouth began to water at the mere thought of the delectable treats flirting with his taste buds, the ones that were to accompany the warm, sweetdrinks that were soon to be sliding down his throat and into his stomach.
He practically giggled in delight.
Sokka was just about to break into a full-on sprint towards town when Katara spotted his antics and quickly grabbed the neck of his shirt, choking him.
"Woahhh, there. Easy, Brother. Remember, we still have to wait for Aang."
Sokka calmed down a little and looking around replied, "Oh yeah where is the little pipsqueak anyway?"
"Oh, we don't have to wait for him. Twinkle toes didn't show up in school today . . . Probably caught that stomach flu that's been going around." Toph stated.
Katara made a face. "Eurgh, I hope he's alright." She looked worried.
Sokka began walking down the street towards the general vicinity of town, head turned back over his shoulder to converse with the two girls.
"Ah don't worry Katara, I'm sure he's fine; that kid always manages to bounce ba—"
Clank!
"Oww . . ." Sokka looked dazed and rubbed at the red bump forming on the side of his skull, just above his temple.
"Sokka!" Katara gasped and rushed forward to tend to her brother while internally rolling her eyes at his clumsiness. At this rate they were nevergoing to make it to the café.
A snorting sound erupted suddenly from the youngest of the three, startling the two siblings.
"HA-haha! Hey Katara, he really does move like an oaf! Honestly, are you blind? Only a retardcould manage to walk straight into a lamppost!" [1]
At those words, Sokka glared pointedly at Toph. "Great, thanks! Can't you see that I'm hurthere?" But that only increased her laughter.
A shiver worked its way through Sokka's slouched form as he continued scowling at the raven-haired girl, now practically in tears from laughing so hard. Katara shook her head at the two and carefully helped Sokka up off the concrete, but even Katara couldn't help letting a small giggle escape her lips. Standing up quickly, the icy chill once again caused Sokka's body to tremble. Geez, it's cold. Maybe I should have kept my hoodie for myself . . . Ugh.
Katara, tightly gripping her brother's shoulders, felt his tremors and looked worriedly at the boy. He wasn't wearing his jacket.
"Sokka, you're freezing! What happened to your sweatshirt? Gran Gran told us it would be cold out today; didn't you listen?" she chided, then added disapprovingly, "You didn't loseit did you?" A slender brown eyebrow raised itself questioningly.
"N-no! I didn't lose it. Katara, you're confusing me with Aang. He'sthe irresponsible one!"
"Then tell me, what happened to it? Hm?" she asked, her tone sceptical.
"I—uh I . . . I think I left it in the gym, and it's probably locked up by now . . ." A pale blush spread across his cheeks, but if Katara noticed, she didn't mention anything of it. She just sighed.
Toph grunted in frustration. "Fine then, stupid, lets just hurry up and get to that café before it gets dark. I don't care if you get sick, but I'm getting hungry!" With that, the young girl started down the street towards town. The other two followed suit, heading down the path as the sky slowly darkened with the approaching night.
The silence was unbearable.
Zuko sat in his father's car, arms folded across his chest, sweatshirt sleeves several inches too short for him and riding up his wrists. He listened to the monotonous hum of the engine as he stared idly through the window, rays of sunshine streaming through the glass.
The calm before the storm, he thought bitterly, dreading the violent eruption awaiting him the minute he stepped into the house. Sighing and deciding not dwell upon his father's imminent anger, Zuko's thoughts turned to the event that had just passed in the gym.
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat, replaying the conversation in his head.
Why'd he give me his sweatshirt, anyway? I don't even know him . . . Not that I'm complaining though . . . it kind of smells nice.
Lifting his hand and reaching back behind his head, Zuko grabbed the hood of the sweatshirt and pulled it over his face, leaning against the strap of the seatbelt for support as he dozed off. Next to him in the backseat, Azula glanced at her brother, a satisfied smirk gracing her lips. Her eyes twinkled with a sadistic pleasure as she met her father's gaze in the rear-view mirror.
Zuko opened his eyes as he felt the car roll to a stop in front of the familiar black gates leading up to his family's manor. He gazed wearily at his father, watching as he lifted his arm and pressed the button on the roof of the car, causing the gates to open slowly, admitting them inside the property. Once parked inside the garage, Zuko opened the car door and slammed it behind him, making his way inside the house, his sister and father following closely behind.
"Azula, go to your room. I need to discuss some things with your brother," said Zuko's father, laying a careful stress upon the last word, lacing it with malice.
Shit. Zuko stopped his ascent towards his room and climbed down the stairs. His heart pounded in his chest.
"Yes, father," Azula responded dutifully, before shooting Zuko a well practiced look of spite. Azula's eyes, flashing with malice, narrowed threateningly at him. Just one look from her sent shivers down Zuko's spine. She shouldered past him and made her way towards the staircase, black bangs waving at the sides of her face.
Zuko did his best to ignore his sister, as he turned to his father, allowing him time to gather himself before exploding.
"You've dishonoured the family."
Zuko inwardly rolled his eyes. That was what his father said every time he failed to comply with his wishes.
"I'm sorry, father. It won't happen again."
A malevolent glint appeared in his father's eyes. "No. It won't happen again. Ever. Do you know why, Zuko?"
Zuko shook his head slowly, a fearful apprehension growing in his mind, gnawing at his insides. "No, father."
"I'll tell you. But first . . . why didn't you win the match? Failure is notacceptable."
"I—You saw the match! I was knocked out by someone in the stands! I would've won if that didn't happen," Zuko burst out angrily, realizing a second too late that what he had said was a mistake.
"'Would have' isn't good enough, Zuko. The fact that you did not win is what has brought shame upon our family. But you will notdishonour this family again."
"Of course not, father," Zuko responded, suppressing his rage as best he could.
"I'll make sure of it. Because if you do, you won't be a part of this family any longer. Just like your dearmother."
Zuko's face coloured violently, and struggling to keep his voice steady, asked "Wh-what do you mean? Mother died . . ."
His father smirked. "I mean that you will be forcefully ejectedfrom this household, with nothing but the clothes on your back."
"I'll go live with Uncle Iroh."
"Iroh? He's only got a few years of life left in him. And after he dies? What will happen to you then? Where will you go? Nobody would take you in, a frightening, disfigured boy as yourself. I fear the fate that awaits you is identicalto your mother's." His father's smirk became more pronounced as Zuko flushed and brought his hand to his face, tracing the outline of his scar with one finger.
"What the fuckdid you do to mother?" Zuko snarled, filled with an insuppressible rage.
His father shook his head slowly, sneering. "It doesn't even matter. The point is . . . she's no longer with us. So unless you want the same to happen to you, you will do as I say, and you will not do anything that dishonours our family. And you would do well to temper that tongue of yours, unless you want me to throw you out of this house now."
Zuko's entire body shook with an unsurpassed fury, and biting back a vicious retort, turned on his heel and strode towards the front door of his house, leaving his father standing behind him, still wearing the same malicious sneer upon his face.
Zuko turned the corner towards the front door, only to run face-to-face with Azula. From the satisfied smirk on her face, it couldn't have been clearer that she had heard every word of the argument.
"Poor, poor, Zuzu. You—"
"Shut it, Azula. I don't want to hear it." With that, Zuko shouldered past his sister, and made his way to the front door, opening it violently and slamming it behind him.
Azula followed him with her eyes, watching her brother through the glass as her brother opened and closed the gate, walking through it towards the sidewalk and down the street.
"Lock the door, Azula. And tell one of the maids to bolt the gate as well. Zuko can sleep on the streets tonight."
"Yes, father," responded Azula as she turned the lock on the door, "Does this mean that you've decided to disinherit Zuko?"
"Not yet. I'll allow him to return tomorrow," her father stated calmly, "but if he makes one more mistake, he won't be a part of our family any longer."
Azula turned away from her father and resumed her previous act of looking through the glass of the door. Her smirk widened as she whispered to herself under her breath.
"Excellent."
Zuko stomped angrily down the sidewalk, glaring intensely at each passer-by who, upon noticing his burning stare, hesitated before moving to the other side of the street. After some time his rage subsided and his hurried pace slowed to a mere trudge. He let out a heavy sigh.
Father's always favoured Azula over me. He's always wanted her to follow in his footsteps, inherit the family business and family fortune. Now I'll have nothing. . . One more screw-up and it's over for me.
Looking up into the golden light of the setting sun, Zuko found that he had reached his destination, and with an outstretched arm, he knocked three times on the door in front of him. Zuko stepped back and waited for the door to open. It remained closed. He began to knock again, this time rapping harder on the wood, and calling out.
"Uncle?" he began, pausing before continuing, "Uncle Iroh!"
No answer.
Sighing, Zuko turned around and walked to the front entrance of the house, which had been converted into his uncle's new café, the Jasmine Dragon.
Great. Uncle's probably swamped with work. It is the café's Grand Opening after all . . . Opening the glass door, Zuko was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer number of people inside the café. It was quite literally packed with customers. Spotting his uncle, the brunet weaved his way around the tightly clustered tables.
"Uncle!"
"Zuko, my nephew, it's good to see you. I could sure use a hand now. As you can see, the café's been a huge success!" Iroh chuckled lightly.
"Um, Uncle . . . I didn't come here to help run the café, I wanted to talk to you about my father."
Iroh gave his nephew a stern look. "Zuko, we'll have plenty of time to talk later, but right now, we have many customers to serve! There's a spare employee uniform in the back, so just put it on and start taking people's orders. In the mean time I'll fetch you a cup of my special Qi Gong Tea of Serenity to calm your nerves."
"Uncle, wait! I don't need any calming tea!" Even after hearing his nephew's words, Iroh exited the room to prepare a cup of tea. Zuko sighed and followed his uncle into the kitchen where his eyes fell upon the green worker's kimono hanging on the wall.
"You mean I have to wear that?" asked Zuko incredulously, gesturing to the uniform.
"Of course, Zuko. It's the employee uniform anda symbol of your heritage. Plus, it's nicer than that sweatshirt you're wearing now. It looks like you've outgrown it two years ago! Doesn't your father buy you any new clothes?"
"He does . . ." Zuko responded, going slightly red in the face. "This sweatshirt is just . . . special to me."
"All right, all right, well hurry up and change into the uniform, Zuko. We're very busy! Oh and here's your tea, now drink up!" With that Iroh exited the kitchen. Zuko sighed and unzipped his sweatshirt, placing it on the counter. Taking the kimono off of the hook on the wall he slowly shrugged it on over his naked chest, letting the ends hang just barely touching the floor. Zuko then left the kitchen, entering the body of the café to attend to the waiting customers. His cup of tea lay on the kitchen counter, forgotten.
Finding his uncle taking orders, Zuko purposefully strode towards him. "Uncle, what should I do now?" he demanded, now frustrated by the ridiculous outfit he was being forced to wear.
"Hmm . . ." Iroh paused, surveying the café before continuing, "Why don't you go tend to the three customers that have just arrived? Be sure to put on a happy face!"
"Yeah, right . . ." Zuko said uncertainly, as he began to approach the customers at the door. But he stopped dead in his tracks when he realized just whothe customers were.
"Katara! Toph! Come on, hurry up! I'm hungry!" Sokka called out to his two companions, who both sighed and sped up slightly to match the brunet's pace.
"Sokka, you're always hungry. Have you even thoughtof anything other than food in the last twenty minutes?" Katara asked, rolling her eyes.
"Yes . . ."
"You can think?" asked Toph in a serious tone of voice.
"Yes, I can!" Sokka responded hotly.
"Then what is it, Sokka? I know that food is the only thing that goes through yourmind," stated Katara very matter-of-factly.
"No, it's not," Sokka began, blushing slightly. Zuko! I've been thinking of Zuko!"I've, uh . . . been thinking of . . . uh school!"
Toph snorted. "Yeah, right. And I've been thinking that you're a . . . Big. Fat. Liar."
Katara looked at the red on Sokka's face, and misinterpreting it as anger, intervened before Sokka could respond. "It doesn't even matter. Look, we're here! The Jasmine Dragon Café. Come on, let's just get inside and order something to eat before Sokka starvesto death." Tugging at Sokka's shirt, Katara led the trio inside the café, where they waited to be seated.
"Katara, look! It's your boyfriend," Toph drawled.
"My boyfriend? Toph, what are you talking abou—Oh my god. It's him." Katara stared straight ahead of her, mouth hanging slightly open.
"Who?" Sokka asked, confused. Following his sister's line of sight, Sokka's eyes fell upon the object of his fixation.
Zuko.
Blushing more furiously than he ever had before, Sokka locked eyes with the boy in front of him, who gazed back with an ardent intensity, feet seemingly glued to the floor.
"Toph, Sokka, come on. We're getting out of here," Katara stated, with a note of finality in her voice that made clear that she did not want to be argued with.
"Ok, listen here, sugar queen. We're staying. Why don't you just go up to him, and tell him that you like him?" suggested Toph.
"Sugar queen?" Katara shook her head, clearly stressed by the situation, before she continued, "Toph, I don't likehim; I don't feel anything for him at all. He's a complete jerk."
"What!" Sokka yelped, outraged, broken free from his trance by his sister's offensive statement, "He is not!"
Katara rounded on Sokka, eyes narrowed in contempt. "Yes, he is! Don't you remember how badly he used to bully Aang? I can't easily forgive him for that."
Sokka rolled his eyes. "Katara, that was like three years ago. He's a really nice guy." Among other things. . . He thought, still blushing.
Raising an eyebrow, Katara quipped, "Sokka, you're acting like you have a cru—mrph!"
Toph's hand covered her friend's mouth. "Shh, Katara, he's coming this way! Do you want him to hear you talking about him?"
The trio turned towards Zuko, who was making his way towards them.
"Hi," he began, looking mortified, "Uh, welcome to the Jasmine Dragon. Table for three? Please follow me to be seated," he blurted out rather awkwardly.
"I didn't know you worked here . . ." Sokka said as they walked towards their table, attempting to make conversation while looking about the bustling café.
"Um, yeah. Why else do think I'd be wearing . . . this? My uncle owns the place," the taller boy responded looking slightly more at ease with the situation. "Come on."
Turning around, Zuko led the group to a table near the window. Sokka's eyes fell upon the gentle curve of the other boy's backside before he snapped them upwards again as the fair-skinned boy turned around.
"Here's your table," said Zuko, pulling out a chair and motioning for someone to sit down. Sokka immediately pushed past his two companions and sat down in the chair.
"Thanks," he said, smiling at Zuko, who cautiously returned the smile as he pulled out chairs for both Katara and Toph.
"No problem."
Taking a deep breath to further relax the fluttering sensation in his gut, Zuko placed three menus on the small round table, "Here are the menus. We serve tea, which is our specialty, as well as coffee and some snacks. Just call me when you're ready to order."
The three friends nodded in response and opened their menus, taking a look at their contents. Though, instead of drinking in the sweet descriptions of each delectable item listed on the paper, Sokka quietly peered over the top of his carte, stealing glances at the stoic boy. He watched as Zuko walked hurriedly into the kitchen and then was shoved back out into the dining area by an old man. All the while, Sokka quietly wondered if it really was a blush that he saw caressing Zuko's cheeks as he exited the kitchen, or if it was simply his imagination.
After seating the three companions, Zuko all but ran into the kitchen, frantically searching for the cup of calming teathat his uncle had brewed for him just minutes before. Spotting it on the counter, he picked it up and gulped down the now frigid concoction.
"Uncle! I need some more of that calming tea!" Zuko choked out.
"Oh, so you liked it then? My nephew, I'm afraid that you are too late. I've just delivered the last of it to a customer! Everyone seems to really enjoy that special brew." Iroh chuckled heartily. Zuko on the other hand did not take this news too well.
"What? But Uncle! I—"
"Don't worry Zuko. Another shipment will be here tomorrow! You may have some then," Iroh inserted calmly, "But anyway, what are you doing back here? You need to attend to the customers! They are all waiting to be served! Go, get out there." With that he pushed Zuko towards the door, slipping a notepad and pen in the boy's hand before he left.
Ugh, he's so useless whenever I really need him . . .Zuko practically fumed, his cheeks a faint pink from frustration. He once again entered the main room and began seating other customers.
Every now and then he would feel the prickling sensation of someone's eyes on him and he would shiver, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. And every time he blushingly looked around to find the culprit, his gaze always landed on Sokka, but he only ever looked over in time to see the tanned boy avert his gaze towards the menu.
"Mm, the Hung Gar Rock Slide Cakesounds really good! What are you going to get Katara?" asked Toph, her eyes still fixated on the menu.
"I'm not sure . . . I can't decide between Ganga's Purifying Herbal Tea and Qi Gong Tea of Serenity. They all sound so good!" replied Katara cheerily. She then looked over at the third member of their party. "Sokka, what do you think you're going to order?" The girl gave him a light nudge, noticing the dazed expression on her brother's face.
Snapping out of his reverie, Sokka shook his head and looked down at his menu, eyebrows furrowed. "Uhh . . . I haven't really decided yet." Oops . . . well at least he didn't catch my staring.
"Haha, yeah I know," she chuckled, "It was really hard for me to narrow it down to only two! I still haven't picked which one I really want either," Katara stated, not sounded the least bit surprised by Sokka's response. "Oh, but you better choose one soon! Zuko's coming back."
Ahh, shit. He looked up, locking eyes with the older boy's striking, golden eyes. Sokka swallowed hard.
"Are you ready to order?"
Katara looked down at her menu. "Yeah. I'll get the Qi Gong Tea of Serenity, please."
"Okay, the Qi—oh wait, we've run out of that tea. Sorry." Zuko replied, eyebrow twitching slightly.
"Oh well, then I'll have the Ganga's Purifying Herbal Tea."
Zuko quickly jotted down Katara's order on his notepad. "Right. What about you?"
"I want the Hung Gar Rock Slide Cake," declared Toph, while playing with the spoon on the table.
"Alright . . . And you, Sokka?" Zuko looked up at the boy whose face was currently buried in the crook of the menu.
"Uhm," Sokka paused and stared up at Zuko, "Could I have the Eyes on Heaven Tea?"
Zuko flushed upon hearing the name of Sokka's desired tea. He held his gaze for a moment then proceeded to mark down the brunet's order. At that same moment Sokka realized exactly what he had just said and he too, coloured violently and stared intently at a small stain on the tablecloth.
"Uh y-yeah, sure. I'll be right back with your orders." Zuko walked as quickly as he could towards the kitchen, throwing the door open wide and disappearing from view.
"That," Sokka breathed, "was awkward."
"Yeah, it was. How'd he even know your name anyway?"
"Oh, well we spoke today when I went to sign up for the martial arts team." He shrugged, eyes still on the table, hoping the other two wouldn't interrogate any further.
"Aw, man, seven o'clock already? My parents are gonna kill me if I'm not home before dinner," Toph groaned as she slouched in her chair, patting her stomach contentedly.
"Oh yeah, we should probably get going, it's kind of late . . ." At those words, Katara and Toph stood up and began putting on their jackets. Pausing, arm halfway in her right sleeve, Katara looked down questioningly at Sokka, who remained seated, hands encircling his cup holding the remains of his tea.
"Hey slowpoke, you coming?"
Sokka waved his hand dismissively. "Nah, I think I'll stay awhile. I'm in no hurry . . ."
"Alright, just remember to call Gran-Gran if you're going to be really late so she doesn't forget and lock you out of the house by accident. Like she did that time you went out with Suki! You came back so late we had all gone to bed without you and you had to sleep outside at the bus stop!" Katara shook her head and rolled her eyes as she finished wrapping her blue scarf around her neck.
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you, Katara! See you all later!"
The bells jingled as the two girls exited the café, leaving their companion to stare at his cup of tea.
Sokka let out a heavy sigh, slumping slightly in his chair. The place was almost empty by now and he could see Zuko furiously scrubbing at one spot on the table in the corner of the room. He's been cleaning that one spot for a long time . . . Sokka mused. Oh well, as long as it keeps him away from here. I've been blushing like a freaking schoolgirl. Talk about embarrassing . . .
Sokka looked up just in time to see Zuko approaching him, looking weary as he sighed slightly.
Shit. Speak of the devil . . .
Not wanting to be caught ogling the other boy, Sokka quickly turned his gaze back to the teacup while keeping a watch on Zuko out of the corner of his eye. As the dark-skinned boy inhaled deeply to soothe his tumultuous insides, he was horrified to see the object of his thoughts pulling out a chair at the table, sitting down next to him.
"Hey," said Zuko, smiling slightly as he scooted his chair closer to the edge of the table.
"Hi," offered Sokka rather lamely, unsure of how to strike up conversation. He glanced up at Zuko for a moment before promptly returning to study his cup of tea intently, lost in the embarrassing moment that had passed between them some time ago.
"So did you like the tea?" asked Zuko, eyeing the other boy and wondering what was wrong with him.
"What?" Sokka jerked out of his reverie, dazed.
"Your Eyes on Heaven."
With his pupils focused upon the fair-skinned boy, Sokka picked up his teacup and drained the last drops of liquid still stubbornly clinging to the rim.
"Yes."
Zuko gazed back at the other boy unflinchingly, unable to tear his eyes away. "Okay . . . well, that's good . . ." he trailed off, unsure of what to say. "Oh!" the raven haired boy cried with sudden realization, "I have your sweatshirt!"
"Oh—uh, all right," Sokka replied, inwardly berating himself for causing such an awkward situation and making the older teen uncomfortable. "Thanks."
"No problem." Zuko rose and turned towards the kitchen, giving him time to calm down and think of something to say next. Grabbing the hoodie once he had entered the double doors, the fair-skinned boy turned back around and headed to his seat beside Sokka's.
"Here," started Zuko as he thrust his arm in the direction of the other boy, sweatshirt clutched tightly in his hand, "Sorry, I didn't have time to wash it . . ." he finished, an apologetic look forming upon his face.
Sokka smiled. Sweet. It probably smells like him. "That's okay, I'll just wash it when I get home." Or not. Sokka's cheeks coloured slightly, embarrassed by the nature of his thoughts. He took the article of clothing from Zuko's fingers, refraining (with difficulty) from bringing it to his face and inhaling the other boy's scent.
"Thanks again for letting me borrow it," said Zuko, evidently trying to keep the conversation going now that they had started talking, "I would've been really cold without it."
"Well, I didn't want you to get sick going outside without a shirt on." Though my kindness did come at a high price . . . covering up Zuko's gorgeous bo—NO! Come on Sokka, what are you thinking? You really have to stop these perverted thoughts. And stop ogling him! The poor guy's bound to notice. Sokka mentally sighed, at war with himself.
"But weren't you cold when you were walking here?" asked Zuko, genuinely concerned about the younger boy's well-being, and feeling slightly guilty that he himself had caused the dark-skinned boy physical discomfort.
"Just a little," Sokka replied, shrugging his shoulders noncommittally, "At least I had another shirt on. And besides, judging from what your sister said, it didn't exactly sound like you were going to have a celebration when you got home. I didn't want you to feel miserable and cold on top of all of that."
Zuko stared at the other boy for a second, unfamiliar emotions erupting within him. He was completely taken aback by Sokka's compassion and willingness to sacrifice his own comfort for the sake of others. Wanting to express his deepest gratitude towards the dark-skinned boy, Zuko opened his mouth to speak, yet somehow, words failed him.
". . . Thanks." He tried to insert as much sincerity and appreciation into the lone word as he possibly could, hoping, but fearing that it wouldn't suffice to express the depth and complexity of his feelings.
The grin that flashed across Sokka's face was all the reassurance Zuko needed. An estranged warmth spread through his heart, causing him to unhesitatingly return the smile—the second real smile, he noted, that had graced his lips that day.
"Bye, Toph!"
"Catch ya later, Sugarqueen," shouted Toph in return. Katara rolled her eyes and waved as the younger girl turned and disappeared behind the impressive double doors of her family's mansion.
Sighing slightly, Katara continued her walk towards the next district where her house was located. The wind had begun to pick up and she shivered slightly as a patch of bare flesh came into contact with the brisk autumn air. Hastily, she wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck. I wonder why Sokka wanted to stay at the café, Katara thought. Loneliness began to sink in as soon as she noticed her brother's absence. Despite this, Katara merely pursed her lips and picked up her pace; she hoped to get home as quickly as possible and perhaps drink some hot cocoa by the cosy fire. Gusts of wind continued to whirl about the girl, causing her to shiver again, this time more violently.
She had just about reached the lamppost that marked the halfway point between Toph's house and her own when something in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Katara slowly turned her head to the right.
"Hey, Katara," said Jet smoothly. She raised her eyebrows in obvious surprise. The boy had just seemed to appear out of nowhere.
"Hi, Jet," she replied. A cute blush graced her features as she saw the brunet smile at her. Then, feeling curious, she asked, "What're you doing here?"
"Oh, I was just . . . in the area, that's all," Jet paused to gauge Katara's reaction, then confident of the situation, he continued, "And since I'm here, do you mind if I walk you home?"
A slight smile crossed the girl's face as she blushed profusely.
"Yes!" Katara beamed at the charming boy in front of her before the expression slid off of her face the very moment she realized what she had said.
"I mean, no! No, of course I don't mind!" she blurted quickly.
"All right, all right," Jet chuckled as he held out his hand to Katara. "I'll walk you home."
If it was possible, Katara's blush deepened as she took the proffered hand in hers and started down the street side-by-side with the other boy.
"So Katara," Jet began self-assuredly as he slipped his fingers through the girl's in order to interlace their hands, "Did you catch any of my match this afternoon?"
"Your match? Oh no, I'm reallysorry, Jet. I was waiting for my brother to come and meet me so that we could head home together." A deeply apologetic look formed on Katara's face. "But I bet you were great, weren't you?"
Jet let out an easy laugh and ran the fingers of his free hand through his hair, raising his chin and tilting his head slightly backwards so that the wind swept through the loose strands. "Yeah, I was pretty awesome. But you still could've come and seen me. Sokka was there."
"He was?" asked Katara, looking bewildered before comprehension dawned upon her, "Oh, that's right. He was there to sign up for the martial arts team."
Jet's brow furrowed as he shot Katara a quizzical look, losing a bit of his collected demeanor in the process. "Sokka signed up for the team? He didn't mention that to me today . . ." He turned his face away from Katara, gazing at the cement of the sidewalk with a pensive look.
"Oh, so you met him after your match? What did he think about it?"
Jet grinned at the girl beside him, his air of confidence returning in full force. "He thought I was amazing. He was practically drooling when he saw me. I don't blame him, I mean, who wouldn't?
Katara inwardly giggled. Yeah, Jet is pretty drool-worthy, though I'm sure he's exaggerating about Sokka. But still, Jet is just so . . . hot! Especially without a shirt on . . . all those muscles!
"Sokka drooled?" asked Katara with one hand cupped a centimetre from her mouth in order to hide her amused smile.
"Yeah, he was really impressed with my skills," commented Jet provocatively, smirking slightly.
"I'm sure he was," Katara replied, missing the ulterior connotations to the other boy's statement, "It's hard not to be impressed, you're such a greatmartial artist. Who were you up against today, anyway?"
"Zuko."
The blue-eyed girl turned to her escort in astonishment. "Wow, Jet! That's incredible! He's ranked in the nation! And to think that you taught yourself how to fight . . . you're just so talented!" Shoot, she thought to herself, I missed the perfect opportunity to see Jet and Zuko without their shirts on. Sweating. Muscles glistening in the light. Though Zuko is a big jerk . . . but still, he'd be fun to watch.
"Yeah, I know I am."
Katara giggled, gracefully covering her mouth with her hand once more and moving closer to the boy next to her so that she could rest her head upon his shoulder as they walked. "Jet?"
"Yeah, Katara?"
"I'm a little bit worried about Sokka joining the martial arts team . . . he doesn't really have much experience. Do you think that you could—you could watch out for him maybe? You know, make sure he doesn't get hurt and give him a few tips?" Katara took her head off of Jet's shoulder and looked at him apprehensively, biting her lower lip in obvious anxiety over the well-being of her brother.
Jet chuckled deeply, grinning down at the girl beside him. "Katara, right when you mentioned that Sokka was joining the team I was already planning to watch him very closely and give him my big tip. . . that will really help him."
"Jet, you're such a good guy," said Katara, once again missing the glaring innuendo of the other boy's words.
"I try."
Katara smiled at Jet before she realized where she was, and she quickly pointed towards the house ahead of her. "That's where I live."
The pair made their way towards the house and paused once they reached the front door. Katara looked up at Jet shyly, her head tilted slightly downwards. "Thanks for walking me home . . ."
Jet shrugged. "I had time to squeeze you into my busy schedule. But maybe we should make this a regular thing."
"Yeah, maybe we should," said Katara as she blushed and turned to open the door. Jet, however, was holding fast to her hand, not permitting her to leave just yet. "Yes?" she asked, turning back around.
". . . It's nothing," Jet responded, staring at the girl opposite him dead in the eye while slowly raising their clasped hands upwards. Jet bent his head slightly and pressed his lips to Katara's hand, still holding eye contact.
He took his time pulling away, and when he finally did, there was a small twinkle in his eye. "Good night, Katara."
Hyperventilating and completely speechless, Katara felt a strong sensation of giddiness rise from her stomach and into her heart. She spent a few more moments simply staring at Jet before remembering that she had to say something.
"Good night . . . Jet."
Warm laughter echoed throughout the café. Sokka's eyes filled with tears as he continued, "And then he, and then, Aang, burst out laughing, spewing his chocolate milkshake all over himself andthe old lady sitting next to him! It was hilarious!"
He looked up at Zuko, eyes still brimming with mirth. The taller boy smiled weakly back at him.
"That's . . . funny . . ." said Zuko in a brave attempt to sound genuinely amused. He waited a moment for Sokka's laughter to subside before allowing the smile playing on his lips to slip away in relief.
"Wheww, that kid . . ." started Sokka, shaking his head slowly while rolling his eyes. "He's always been so clueless about everything."
Zuko shifted uncomfortably in his seat and let out a small breath. "Y-yeah?" he offered, fighting to keep his voice even.
The dark-skinned teen nodded enthusiastically as the residual smile from his last fit of laughter grew more apparent. "Yeah, I remember this one time he . . ."
Forgotten scenes from the past flashed through Zuko's mind. His eyebrows knit closer together with each passing memory; his ears were no longer able to hear the words issuing from the other boy's mouth.
Aang. Azula. Father . . . Azula . . .
The pictures zoomed past his mind's eye faster now, his pupils focused intently upon Sokka's moving lips as if they would speak words of comfort to him. His fingers began to clench into a fist, the muscles in his arm flexed, his entire bodytensed—seizing up, until—
"Are you okay?" asked Sokka, reaching an arm out to grip the raven-haired teen's shoulder.
He relaxed at once.
"Y-Yeah. I'm fine." Zuko looked back at the other boy, his chest heaving as he attempted to catch his breath.
Sokka eyed his companion suspiciously. "Oh. Okay." He stared at Zuko for a few more seconds before a sudden recollection struck him. The blue-eyed teen bit his lip, deciding how to most sensitively phrase his next question.
"Didn't you used to bully him?"
"Who?"
"Aang."
The image of flames erupted in Zuko's mind. Clenching his fist, he stamped out the memory and focused on the present.
"That was a long time ago," the fair-skinned boy said evasively as he unconsciously perused the scar over his left eye.
"And . . ." Sokka prodded, leaning over the edge of the table
"And . . . what?" asked Zuko, though he knew perfectly well what the other boy was about to ask. His heart beat faster in anticipation.
"Why did you used to bully Aang?
Zuko observed Sokka's expression, taking his time before responding. Normally, the raven-haired boy would have bristled at what he would have taken to be an offensively intrusive question, but for some reason, he remained quite placid.
"It's complicated," he answered, knowing full well that this response would do nothing to satisfy the other boy's curiosity.
Sokka gazed back evenly at the taller boy, intrigued by his reaction to the simple question. "So?"
"It's a long story," Zuko maintained, still unwilling to impart any information to the other boy, yet amazingly, still allowing the conversation to continue.
"Well, we have time." The dark-skinned boy smiled. He lifted his arms from his sides, and placing them on Zuko's shoulders, leaned in closer to the other boy's face. "We're friends, right? You can tell me. I won't judge you, I promise." Sokka smiled again, and squeezed the raven-haired teen's shoulders reassuringly before returning his hands to his sides.
Friends. The word stuck in Zuko's mind, but all he could do was nod dumbly. Friends.
"Yeah," he said finally, finding his voice. "Well I didn'tbully him."
"But my sister—"
"Is mistaken." Zuko sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Let me start from the beginning . . . Aang and I used to be friends. Good friends. But Azula had always been jealous of me, ever since we were young children, especially because of my close relationship with our mother. Azula constantly vied for her attention. On the other hand, she didn't need to worry about Father; she was daddy's little girl after all. My father. He favoured Azula over me for her strong will and her blunt cruelty that was evident in her personality even when she had been just a baby. It didn't help that everything always came easy to her either. When my mother was alive, she could keep her under control, and so Azula, out of jealousy, could never do anything seriousto me. But when my mother passed away—what little protection I received from her vanished. From then on, no matter what the dilemma, Azula always won. My father adores her and ensured that, no matter what, she would have her way. My father says 'she was born lucky.' He says I was lucky to be born. A constant reminder of how I've failed him as a son.
"Anyway, when Azula discovered what a strong friendship I had with Aang, she sought to destroy it. Any and all bonds reminiscent of the one I had with Mother were and soon ripped apart and dismantled right before my eyes. She intimidated my friends into staying away from me—manipulated them so that they hated me." Zuko shook his head bitterly. "She had such a coercive tongue, and Father supported her. He forbade me to talk to Aang. The lame reason he gave was simply that Aang was beneathsomeone of my social standing."
Sokka sat back in his chair, shocked. "And you agreed to stop being friends with him, just like that?"
The fair-skinned teen looked down at the table. "I was young. I had no choice."
The tanned boy waited for further elaboration, but none came. Unable to bear the sight of Zuko looking so dejected, and feeling guilty that he had caused it, Sokka rose from his chair and walked around to the other side of the table where the raven-haired boy was seated.
Zuko looked up in surprise. "What're you doing?"
Sokka did not answer immediately, but instead, sat down in a chair next to other boy's and scooted so that there were mere centimetres between the two seats. He blushed as he placed an arm around the older boy's shoulder.
"I just want you to know," he began in a low voice, "that your sister doesn't scare me. She can't intimidate or manipulate me. I'll stick by you no matter what she does."
Zuko gazed steadily at the heated look in Sokka's eye and tentatively raised his arm to wrap it around the other teen's shoulder. The two remained in that position for several moments; no words were exchanged between them.
Zuko blinked.
He had the strangest feeling that Sokka wanted to, and was about to . . . about to kisshim. But he was sure he imagined it, for the next thing he knew, the tanned boy was taking his arm off of his shoulder and standing up. Zuko's eyebrows furrowed.
"It's getting late, I'd better go. But I just wanted to say . . . I'm glad I met you."
"Yeah . . . me too," Zuko said softly as he stood up.
The two teenagers gazed at each other, unsure of how to say goodbye.
Cautiously, the raven-haired teen held out his hand. Sokka looked at the outstretched arm for a second, grinned, seized it, and yanked the other boy into a quick one-armed hug.
"I'll see you around," he called as he strode off to the door.
"Yeah . . . see you."
Zuko barely registered the jingle of the door chimes as he was left to ponder the implications of his new—dare he call it—friendship.
"Well, that's the last of them!" Iroh chuckled heartily, giving his nephew an affectionate pat on the back. "Good work, Zuko."
"Thank you, Uncle," Zuko replied, pleased. They had just finished wiping down the floor and stacking the chairs; the Jasmine Dragon Café was closed for the night. The two climbed a flight of stairs at the back of the building that lead to Iroh's loft.
"Here is your room for tonight. I've laid out the futon for you." Iroh gave his nephew on last look before exiting the room.
Zuko nodded and slowly stripped himself of his uniform and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. He sighed heavily and sat down cross-legged on his futon, taking in of the décor of his uncle's guest bedroom. It was small with simple furnishings. Tatami mats concealed the hardwood floor and a lone desk sat in the corner. A medium sized bonsai tree and several stones were the only sort of decoration evident in the guest room.
Reappearing suddenly, Uncle reminded his nephew that the bath was ready. He looked at Zuko and smiled. "Good night, my nephew. Sleep well. You have another long day ahead of you." He turned to leave, but then in sudden remembrance added, "Don't worry about your father. Ozai's always had a bad temper, even when he and I were young children." At this, Iroh chuckled. "He'll come around though." Zuko stared at his wall for a moment, soaking up his uncle's words, before heading towards the bathroom. Quickly, the boy washed his body and his hair to prepare himself for the bath. The water flowed in rivulets down the teen's toned body. Shutting off the water, Zuko stepped into the tub. [2]
Today was a good day. Thought Zuko suddenly. Well, save my interaction with Father . . .
The steaming water soothed his muscles as he slid further below its surface. Breathing a sigh of pleasure, Zuko leaned his head back against the bath's edge, perfectly content. It seemed that the longer he soaked in the tub, the higher his spirits grew and the less insistent his tribulations became. It's as if I'm soaking away my troubles. The boy reflected, mildly bitter about the situation. I could never get this kind of relaxation in my own home. He closed his eyes.
Perfect blue eyes materialized before his consciousness.
Sokka. There's something about him—something that makes me feel . . . Safe. Yes, safe and comfortable. I know that I don't have to be perfect around him. I can be myself for once.
His entire body, excluding his eyes and nose, was now submerged in the water. The raven-haired boy blew bubbles in the water and wiggled his toes, glaring all the while. Knowing his sister, Azula, this friendship—this, well whatever it was that had begun to develop between him and the tanned boy would be painfully short-lived. It was a wonder how easily she could dispel anyone remotely important to him from his life.
"Fuck . . ." he breathed, running a wet hand through his obsidian locks. With two shakes of the head and a sigh, Zuko closed his eyes again, revisiting the day's events. A smile caught Zuko's lips as he recalled Sokka's animated gestures, the way the tanned boy's cheeks flushed destroying his every attempt to appear nonchalant . . . how his mouth curled into a lopsided grin at anything even mildly amusing, azure eyes forever alight with a strange sarcastic charm. He was different from the others. Aang had been too timid, too weak as they say, to endure Azula's intimidating stare and her malevolent grin. Sure, the silly boy had only been a kid then, but Zuko had believed him capable of at the least, ignoring Azula. The raven haired boy shook his head. He had been sorely mistaken. But, but Sokka, on the other hand. Now he,Zuko knew, could endure, could perhaps change him—give him that necessary confidence to never, eversubmit to his father or his sister again. Hell, the tanned boy had already penetrated his mental blockade, his fiery wall whose sole purpose was to prevent Zuko from becoming close to people.
And it had only been one day.
A chuckle escaped his lips. For the last time that night, as he sat in the now lukewarm bath water, Zuko shook his head twice and looked towards the ceiling.
He smiled.
Maybe this time would be different.
A/N:
Good day, my lovely readers! On behalf of Qian and myself, I apologize profusely for the insanely long time we took to update. Qian and I are victims of the terrible International Baccalaureate program, which ensures that we have absolutely no free time (a note from Qian to our American readers: Don't do the IB program! It won't help you with your college apps because the colleges won't even see that you got the IB diploma when you apply! It's just as good to take all AP classes-which also allows you more academic freedom). On top of that, college applications are a bitch! If it helps any, this chapter is over twice as long as the last, unfortunately, we can't promise that chapter three will come out any time soon because of our work. However, reviews encourage us to write faster (We love using this fic as a means to procrastinate)! So please, after you finish reading, give us any comments or constructive criticism you have to offer! Thank you!
-Mausumi
P.S. Thank you everyone who reviewed our last chapter! We love you all!
[1] For the sake of political correctness please note that we, the authors of this work of fiction, do not mean to offend anyone who may know someone who has disabilities, mental or physical, to any extent. We too have friends with siblings who have disabilities and we mean them no harm! And oh, yeah. Toph isn't blind in this fic.
[2] In Japan, the bath isn't used for bathing but rather for soaking and soothing one's muscles. Also, everyone in the family is supposed to use the same bath water and if people didn't wash themselves before they got into the bath, that water would get really gross really fast. We hope that clears up any confusion as to why Zuko showers before he gets into the tub.