AN: Modern setting. Technically. But. 'Modern setting' in that there is one mention of chainsaws and one of sidewalks.
"I like trees like this," Zuko whispers, all soft and quiet.
Sokka makes an inquiring sound because Baby, why? Because every single major limb of the giant (okay, it's not that giant) ugly thing has been hacked off with a chainsaw at at least one point. Sometimes two points. In one instance, literally three points and the damn thing is still growing like the world's largest stubborn sidewalk dandelion.
Not like Sokka's a tree aficionado or anything. He's just seen objectively prettier trees, is all he's saying. But, then, he hadn't thought Zuko had a single thought about trees, either, except how convenient they make it to get certain places when one is half-gecko and all-ninja shut up you are SO!
But Zuko doesn't look away from the chopped but still-very-branchy tree as he shrugs. "They just—there's a story, to trees like this, that have been cut again and again but still—" He makes a small sound in the back of his throat that lodges itself somewhere in Sokka's chest. "Trees that have been hurt, with all their scars on display, still reaching up toward the sun." Then, quieter still, "That's my favorite kind of tree."
Oh, Sokka thinks. "Oh," Sokka says.
Oh, Zuko.
"You know," he says, eventually, "I think that's my favorite kind of tree, too."
Zuko smiles at him, something small but heartbreakingly genuine, standing tall with all his scars on display. It makes Sokka's heart feel squishy and soft and warm-warm-warm like Zuko always is.
Makes him think, My favorite kind of person, too.