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Chapter Text

Despite the February draft in Bumi’s classroom that kept it almost unfairly cold, Sokka was sweating. He did the mental calculations quickly. Three questions left. He and Toph were 4 points behind Suki and Aang. So close, just a toss-up to tie it up. He realized he was doodling on his paper again, and clenched his ballpoint pen tighter to stop himself. He was almost out of room on his allotted two sheets.

Looking poised and calm despite reading questions fully decked out in her winter coat and hat, Katara took a breath and read through the next question, pronouncing each word carefully and clearly.

“Tossup, twenty-two. Earth and space. Short answer. Lake Vostok, an Antarctic subglacial lake, is thought to be a potential analogue for two bodies of astrobiological interest. Name one.”

Barely after she exhaled the final syllable of the sentence, before his brain even knew the answer consciously, Sokka buzzed in, feeling a savage flare of triumph when he heard Suki go at the same time and saw his own buzzer light up.

Katara nodded, acknowledging him. “Close to an interrupt, Sokka.”

He had been flirting with danger there, for sure. Crucial Rule of Science Bowl #1: only interrupt when you were certain you were correct. If you interrupted the judge and answered incorrectly, the other team got four points and a free opportunity to answer the question.

Sokka thought the question back through for one moment, definitely not 100% confident, but at least 85%. It was close, and the upside of getting this right and keeping the bonus out of Suki and Aang’s hands was too good to pass on. “Europa,” he guessed, remembering the ocean thought to exist beneath the icy layers of one of Jupiter’s bajillion (okay, seventy-nine) moons, the one that maybe could hold alien life.

“Correct,” Katara said, reading off the answers from the folder of questions from previous competitions that Bumi kept in a file cabinet. “The other one’s Enceladus.”

Toph reached her hand out to Sokka for a fist bump. He gave it to her, feeling the rush of pulling a correct toss-up out of nothing but vague supposition. Tie score. They were in this now, allowed to consult together on the bonus.

“Bonus. Short answer.” Katara tucked her hair behind her ears, then adjusted the hood of her winter coat. “Most sea ice exiting the Arctic Basin passes through what large strait between Greenland and Svalbard?”

“Ah, shit,” said Toph. “I know this. Starts with an F. The something strait.”

Sokka had no idea. They had twenty seconds to come up with an answer, just the two of them. Bonuses were always the same topic as their toss-up. “F… Frozen. Fjord. C’mon, Earth Science girl.”

“This is basically fricking geography. Flume?” Toph twisted her bangs around her finger like she always did when she was thinking. “Frame?”

“F… fuck.”

“Five seconds,” Katara said.

Sokka was captain, at least for this practice team session, so he had to give the answer. “Flume Strait,” he said. It was the best they’d come up with.

Katara shook her head. “Fram Strait. Close, Toph.”

“Fram? Come on, that can’t possibly be real.” Sokka said. He really shouldn’t be mouthing off so much. This was their last practice before regionals, and it was important to get the rhythms right: buzz, wait to be acknowledged, answer carefully. But goofing around heckling each other during practice was half the fun.

Katara rolled her eyes, pointedly moving onto the next question. Only two left. “Toss-up. Chemistry. Multiple choice.”

Shit. This wasn’t good. Chem was Suki’s domain. He glanced at his best friend out of the corner of his eye, the actual team captain when they were competing as a group against other schools. Suki’s paper looked organized, though from his desk Sokka could make out the small corner of the paper that she allowed herself some space to doodle while she thought.

Katara read slowly. “The degree of unsaturation of a hydrocarbon containing two rings is equivalent to the degree of unsaturation of a hydrocarbon containing, W: alkane, X: alkene, Y: alkyne--”

Suki’s buzzer lit up. An interrupt. She was feeling the pressure, too.

Katara gave Suki a long look, testing her. Crucial Rule of Science Bowl #2: wait for the judge to acknowledge you before you spoke, or you lost the chance to answer the question. Finally, Katara let her off the hook. “Interrupt. Suki.”

“Y,” Suki said carefully. Crucial Rule of Science Bowl #3: On multiple-choice questions, you had to either refer to the letter choice, or say the exact words of the response. No mumblings, no misspeaks, or those points were lost-- and the other team had a chance to answer, with the knowledge of what you had guessed.

“That’s correct,” said Katara. As she read Suki and Aang their bonus question-- the coefficients for water and carbon dioxide in the balanced combustion equation for octane, which Sokka couldn’t remember because it was mentally filed away under Suki’s got that one-- Sokka leaned over to Toph. “We’re in this. Need these next two,” he said.

Toph nodded grimly. Like Aang, Toph was a sophomore, but unlike Aang, this was her first year on the team at the somewhat underfunded school. She had come to the Omashu Magnet School for Engineering earlier this year. Aang had dragged her to Science Bowl practice when she showed up in his AP Environmental Science course as the only other sophomore, a blind fifteen-year-old who inhaled every audiobook, website, and podcast about glaciers, taiga biomes, and underwater volcanoes her laptop’s screen reader could deliver.

Suki had been impressed by Toph’s breadth of knowledge about Earth Science and courage on the buzzer. Sokka had been impressed by her flagrant disregard for all authorities she disagreed with. She was a rich kid, a transplant from the prestigious boarding school Sozin Academy, which she had been “asked to leave” (aka expelled from) after a few too many “unexcused absences” (aka skipping the classes she thought were boring and releasing one little colony of fire ants in her much loathed English teacher Mr. Zhao’s classroom). Now she was “kickin’ it public school style,” as she liked to put it.

She’d been a huge pickup, especially since the team would be graduating Suki and Sokka after this year. But she was a little raw. Sokka did what he could to try to explain the strategy along the way, but there was no teacher like experience, and that’s what she’d get at regionals this weekend.

“Five seconds,” Katara said.

Suki and Aang had been conferring in whispers. Suki nodded, tucked her hair behind her ears, read from her sheet. “Sixteen for carbon dioxide, eighteen for water.”

“That’s correct,” Katara said. “Next question--”

“Use our team name, Katara!” Aang said, grinning.

Katara rolled her eyes. “That’s correct, Aangular Momentum. Next question.”

Since it was the last practice before regionals, they’d thought about asking Bumi to read for them so they could all participate. But the problem with Bumi reading questions was that almost every single one spurred a tangent in his wandering brain, whether it was from his years of research on snake habitats, or his degrees in biology and geology, or just some bizarre theory his brain had concocted. It was fun, and damn did they learn some wild stuff, but today was all about replicating regionals as closely as possible.

That meant Katara was their reader, and Bumi was contentedly snoozing behind his desk, legs kicked up, chair leaned dangerously far back, emitting light snores. “Twenty-four. Toss-up. Biology. Multiple choice. Which of the following best describes how oxygen is stored in the muscles?”

Shit. Katara was the team’s anatomy and physiology whiz. Sokka was pretty good with neuro, but the musculoskeletal system was not his strong suit. He listened to the options. “W, spread throughout. X, bound to hemoglobin. Y, bound to calmodulin, Z, bound to myoglobin.”

Nobody buzzed.

Katara looked at all of them. “Really? Greek roots, people.”

Aang buzzed, waited to be acknowledged. “X,” he said after Katara nodded to him. This was his second year on the team. When he’d shown up as a bald, tattooed freshman last year after being homeschooled on the road his whole life by the monk who’d raised him (yeah, even Toph’s background didn’t hold a candle to Aang’s), Sokka had no idea what to expect. And it was true, Aang could be an absolute wild card. He had massive, seemingly random gaps in his knowledge, especially when it came to math. But he was fascinated by energy and knew more about renewables than anyone on the team, he inhaled new facts and knowledge like they were air, and most of all, he was quick to layer pranks, games, and bets into their practices.

Katara sighed. “Sorry, that’s incorrect.”

Thank you, Aang. Sokka slammed his hand down on the buzzer. He had been torn between X and Z. “Z,” he said, after Katara acknowledged him.

“Correct, Sokka,” said Katara. “C’mon, y’all, myo- is muscle.”

“I thought myo- was mushroom,” Aang said, crestfallen.

“Close, you’re thinking of myco-,” said Suki, never one to miss out on a teachable moment.

“Sorry, Suki,” Aang said flopping the hood of his heavy sweatshirt over his head and burying his face in his arms.

Suki patted his back. This wasn’t her first time around the block, and Sokka knew that as good as she was with Chemistry and as level as she stayed during stressful bonuses, this was what made her a great team captain: cool-headed and warm-hearted even when her teammates messed up. “No worries, kiddo, gotta shoot your shot sometimes.”

“Just read us our bonus, Katara,” Toph said, tapping her pen against the desk. They had decided on teams that morning in the groupchat-- making sure to split Sokka and Suki, the two seniors-- and had been trash talking pretty much since then. Toph and Aang had bet milkshakes on the outcome of today’s practice. Usually these were dollar bets, or bets like "loser has to lick Bumi's ball python", but they'd brought out the high stakes for the last practice before regionals.

Katara turned the page. “Bonus, biology, short answer. Name two cellular organelles besides the nucleus that contain a genome.”

“Mitochondria,” Toph and Sokka said to each other at the same time. Okay, one down. Mentally, Sokka flipped through his memory of the animal cell diagram in his biology textbook, listing organelles out loud as he went. Good teams always discussed bonuses. “Okay, ribosomes, lysosomes, Golgi thingies, smooth ER, rough ER… none of those have DNA, right?”

Toph blew the bangs that covered her eye out of her face. “Don’t think so.”

“Even Golgi bodies?” asked Sokka, mentally selecting that as his best guess if they couldn’t come up with anything else.

Toph shook her head. Sokka wanted to keep talking, which was how he sorted through his thoughts, but he’d found that Toph sometimes did her best when she had silence to dig back through her mental auditory encyclopedia.

“Five seconds,” Katara said.

Toph’s face lit up. “Wait! Fucking plant cells!”

Right. Chloroplasts had DNA. “Mitochondria and chloroplasts,” Sokka said to Katara, then couldn’t help but adding. “Hell yes, Toph.”

“Correct,” said Katara, grinning. “Watch your language, people, that’s not gonna fly this weekend. Okay, last question.”

“We’re tied, right?” asked Toph.

“Not for long,” said Suki, resting her hand on the buzzer. Sokka did too. Come on, Physics, he thought. That was probably the category where he had the biggest edge on Suki, other than anything related to Astronomy. But Astronomy was under the umbrella Earth and Space, and they’d just had an Earth and Space question. Sokka was pretty much the team's generalist though, so honestly, the more trivial and weird the question was, the better. Come on, come on...

“Toss-up. Energy, Multiple choice. Which of the following states has the highest potential for wind energy generation? W, Illinois. X, Arkansas. Y, Michigan. Z. North Dakota--”

Four hands slammed on buzzers, but the one that lit up was Aang’s. Dammit, Sokka thought, but even though they were enemies right now, he was glad the kid hadn’t let his previous wrong answer stifle his nerve. “Z,” he said confidently. They all probably could have guessed that one based on a little critical thinking, but Aang knew so much about climate science and energy efficiency that it wouldn’t surprise Sokka if he could rank all the states by wind energy potential.

“That’s correct,” Katara said. Aang and Suki high fived, two-handed, having locked up the question and the win with it whether or not they got the bonus.

Katara read it anyway, because Katara was a stickler. So while Suki and Aang scribbled calculations for a bonus question about converting kilo-watt hours into microwave time, Sokka turned to Toph. “We were close,” he said.

“Frickin’ Fram Strait,” she said, leaning back in her chair and kicking her legs up onto the desk in front of her. It never failed to impress Sokka how confidently she could inhabit the space around her despite her blindness.

“That was a dumb one,” he told her. “Not our fault. Sometimes it comes down to luck.”

He leaned back in his chair, too, looked around Bumi’s classroom, nostalgia settling over him like the snow settling over the streets, cars, and trees outside the window. This was going to be his fourth and last regionals. Outside of the two classes he’d had in here (AP Bio and AP Environmental Science), he ate lunch in here most days, and had had four years of Science Bowl practices to boot. The snake skeleton and dozens of spent snakeskins pinned to the corkboard, the pile of rocks stacked on the side table in interesting formations (that got re-stacked whenever they inevitably got knocked over by Bumi making too wild a gesture or a hapless freshman not used to the chaos), the sculpture of a glyptodont made of packing peanuts and duct tape that some seniors had made a few years back… it was all so familiar to Sokka, comforting in its disarray and discombobulation and draftiness.

Speaking of, he was cold now that his sweat was evaporating. Nature’s cooling system. He pulled his jacket on, the denim one lined with fleece. It was a hand-me-down from his dad, and though it had been mended dozens of times and smelled, faintly, of fish, it was one of his most prized possessions.

Suki and Aang got their bonus right. Toss-ups were worth four points and bonuses eight, leaving them twelve points in the lead. “Looks like milkshakes are on Toph, y'all,” Aang said, pulling the wool hat Katara had knitted him onto his shaved head.

Suki glanced at her watch. She'd had her one moment of celebration with Aang, now she was back to business. (Bumi’s classroom had three clocks, but none of them displayed the correct time.) “We should wrap up, anyway. I want us all getting plenty of good food and rest this week. That’s going to make way more difference than a few extra rounds on the buzzer.”

Sokka looked over at Bumi, who was snoring gently. “Bumi. Bumi!” he called.

The teacher opened one eye, not otherwise moving.

“You’ll be at the competition at eight am Saturday, right?” Sokka asked.

“What time zone?” croaked Bumi.

Sokka and Suki exchanged glances. With Bumi, you could never be more than fifty percent sure he was joking. He lived on his own planet. Hell, maybe his own plane of existence. “Well, Eastern Time,” Suki said. “The one where we live.”

“Just making sure,” Bumi said, finally kicking his legs off his desk and stretching. “In this day and age, you can’t be too careful.”

Sokka grinned. Okay, joke. “Any last advice for us as we prep for this weekend?” he asked.

Bumi thought for a long moment, stroking his long white beard. “Remember, if it kills you when it bites you, it’s venomous. But if it kills you when you bite it… it’s poisonous.”

“Is that Science Bowl advice or life advice, Bumi?” Suki asked, twinkle in her eye.

“Yes,” their coach said, yawning and closing his eyes once again.

Some teams had coaches that gave strategies, that took care of substitution, that read questions. They had Bumi. But to be honest, Sokka wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Okay, let’s get cleaned up and bring it in, y’all,” said Suki. Aang put away the buzzers while Katara reshelved the practice questions onto one of Bumi’s overflowing bookshelves. Once they were more or less regrouped, Suki led them in a guided visualization exercise. They had started closing their practices with this after Toph and Katara had gotten into a yelling match over the pronunciation of "Gondwanaland" a few weeks ago. It was a good way to relax together.

Sokka opened his eyes, peeking at the group, breathing extra loudly to make up for his indiscretion. Suki sat straight as an arrow, hands resting in her lap, as she guided everyone to take extra-long exhales “to activate the parasympathetic nervous system.” Toph lay on her back on the ground, head resting on her backpack. Katara had pulled the fur-lined hood of her coat all the way up and had her scarf wrapped around her neck, and Aang-- his eyes were open too, watching Katara, a goofy grin on his face.

Sokka cleared his throat. Aang jumped, closed his eyes again. Sokka grinned. He probably shouldn’t tease the kid-- he was so damn sincere and he followed Katara around like a puppy dog-- but it was too easy.

“All right, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to relax a bit,” Suki said. “Now before we head out... battle plans, co-captain?”

It was sweet, honestly, her insistence that she and Sokka were co-captains, despite the fact that during the competition itself teams could only have one designated captain. And Sokka had to admit, she was better in the captain’s seat when it came to bonuses-- listening to everyone’s ideas and her own intuition, distilling that chaos down into the best answer, and delivering it clearly and correctly.

But Sokka’s strength? That was marshalling the troops.

“You know it, Suki. All right, kids. Let’s talk battle plans,” Sokka said, distributing copies of the weekend’s schedule that he’d made earlier that day on the rickety old copier, with Bumi’s “borrowed” copier key. “This regionals is gonna be different from every regionals Suki ‘n I have seen before, and here’s why. This year, there’s two slots to natties on the line.”

Since out of the last three years, multiple teams from their region (aka Omashu Magnet and Sozin Academy) had placed in the top three at nationals, their region was now designated a “super region”, with two spots at nationals. When Bumi had forwarded that email to Suki and Sokka, they had screamed and danced around Suki’s mom's kitchen for a solid five minutes.

“Two spots to nationals means that we have some wiggle room,” continued Sokka. “If we'd had that last year, we'd have punched our ticket.”

Everyone in the room except Toph remembered that one, but she had been told the story numerous times. “So that means we could lose to Sozin and still make it?” she asked.

“We’re not losing to Sozin,” Sokka said, a little more sharply than he meant to.

Suki looked at him admonishingly, then spoke to the team. “We’ve prepared for this all year,” she said. “We just need to trust the work we’ve done, and walk in there with confidence that we’re the best team in the region. This extra slot to nationals is just extra padding. Padding that we helped earn when we got second at nationals me and Sokka’s sophomore year.”

Sokka tried to smile reassuringly at Toph, even though she couldn’t see it. “That’s… uh, yeah, that’s what I meant. We can beat any team in the region. Even Sozin. Especially Sozin. And we’ve got wiggle room if we need it. Which we won’t.” He was quickly losing his train of thought. Memories of facing up to Sozin Academy at Science Bowl regionals the last few years made his pulse race. But now wasn’t the time. Now was the time to support his team with a pep talk. “We just have to be confident on the buzzer and careful with interruptions.” Time to shut up before he went too of the rails. He glanced at Suki. “Anything else to add, co-captain?” he asked, as he always did, giving the spotlight back to his more rational-thinking friend.

Suki smiled at him, looked at Katara, Aang, and Toph, and let out a breath. “Let’s fucking do this,” she said, echoing her usual comment.

And with that, their last practice before regionals was complete. The transition back from Science Bowl Serious Mode to five nerds goofing around could commence. Scarves, hats, mittens-- mostly knitted by Katara-- were retrieved and doffed, parkas zipped against the February chill.

“So… heard a rumor about milkshakes on Toph for the winning team?” Suki said, pulling her hair out of the tight topknot she wore when she was concentrating, letting it bounce around her face.

“Yeah, yeah, milkshakes on Toph,” Toph grumbled. “A Beifong always pays her debts.”

“Plus one for Katara for being the reader,” said Aang.

“I’d rather get something hot,” said Katara. “I’m freezing. Tea?”

“Sokka, can you drive us?” Toph asked.

Sokka sighed, but he’d known this was coming. “C’mon, peeps. Let’s get in the truck.”

They left behind a chorus of goodbyes to their coach, and Aang’s left mitten. No matter. They'd get it back later. As regional champions.

Chapter Text

Sokka had gotten used to driving the whole team home from their city school on Wednesdays after Science Bowl practice. He was the only one with a car, the beaten up old pickup that he had bought from their family friend Bato, the one that he used to help his dad haul lobstering equipment in the summers. And on Wednesdays, Katara was coming home with him anyway, and Suki usually tagged along to do calc homework, and Aang’s trailer park was on the way out of the city, and Toph didn’t live that far from Aang…

So even though it took most of an hour, Sokka didn’t mind being Truck Dad. They walked through the pathetically small student parking lot toward the halfway decent spot he’d managed to snag that morning, Katara and Toph walking arm in arm to make walking on the snow and ice a little easier. “All right, where we getting milkshakes?” Sokka asked. “Preferably somewhere on the way to Toph’s.”

Aang spoke up. Despite the February chill, he was just wearing his hoodie. Sokka had never understood how he stayed so warm. “Toph, what if we got bubble tea instead of milkshakes? Then Katara could get something hot if she wanted.”

Toph’s face lit up. “Ooh! I know the perfect place! And it’s right near my house.”

Suki, designated permanent shotgun in Sokka’s car, was already getting her phone out to pull up directions. “What’s it called?”

“The Jasmine Dragon,” Toph said.

“What’s the damage?” Sokka asked Suki. A few flakes of snow were starting to fall. He wanted to get everyone home before the roads got too icy.

She held up her phone. The tea shop was twenty minutes away, right in Toph’s fancy neighborhood. “All right,” he said. “Jasmine Dragon it is. Pile in, kids.”

*

Omashu High was a magnet school, pulling from all over the city, from the pristine and polished financial district where Toph lived and where Sozin Academy’s manicured grounds were, to the outlying neighborhoods where Suki and Aang’s homes were, to the somewhat dingy port where Sokka and Katara lived with their father and grandmother.

The Jasmine Dragon was right by Sozin Academy, as it turned out. As Sokka drove past the manicured gardens and iron-wrought gates of the boarding school that screamed of prestige and wealth, he felt his stomach clenched with nerves. This year, they were going to do it. They were going to beat those assholes.

“Okay, I think it’s on the right up here-- there,” Suki directed Sokka, one hand holding her phone, map app up, plugged into the aux blasting her “drivin’ peeps home :)” playlist, the other hand absentmindedly snapping her lucky fan open and shut. This was not her first rodeo manning the command central in Sokka's truck.

Relieved that the snow was light and the parking lot not too full, Sokka pulled the old truck into the tiny parking lot next to the coffee shop, the mud-splattered pickup out of place among the fancier cars.

Katara and Aang were huddled over the online menu for the Jasmine Dragon in the backseat, Toph listening in. “Ooh, I think I want hot chai,” Katara said. “Are we going inside?”

Sokka looked up at the sky. The snowfall was still gentle, but from the forecast and the pressure changes that had been showing on Bumi’s antique barometer, it was going to continue steadily. “Let’s get drinks to go,” he said. “Wanna get everyone home before it’s snowing snowing.”

“Sounds good. Chai for Katara. Twinkle toes? Fangirl? I owe you a drank,” said Toph.

Suki’s lucky bamboo fan had earned her this particular Toph nickname. She always needed to be doing something with her hands, and the fan was a perfect tool, ready to be flicked open, flipped shut, ribs counted and fiddled with. It had been a hand-me-down from Kyoshi-- when Sokka chided her for carrying a torch, she had hit him with it and said that it was a captain thing, not a relationship thing, which had shut him up. Sokka thought it was maybe secretly still the Kyoshi fan more than the captain’s fan (after all, Kyoshi, their badass and brilliant and bloodthirsty captain had given it to Suki, not to Roku, when she graduated), but he didn’t give her too much shit about it. She’d been through enough with all that.

Suki snapped the fan shut. “I’ll take a hot chai, too. Thanks Toph.”

“Bubble tea for me!” Aang said. “You need a hand carrying, Toph?”

Sokka yawned and stretched. “I got it,” he said. “Losers stick together.” He couldn’t help but root for Aang's puppy dog crush on his sister sometimes. He didn’t much like or trust Katara’s current boyfriend. The least he could do was let Aang sit with her in the backseat every once in a while. (With Suki there chaperoning, of course.)

He and Toph left the warmth of the pickup for the frigid air and the painful white pinpricks of snow, the kind that were so frozen they were tiny ice crystals instead of the big wet clumps that were fun to pack and throw at his sister but hell to drive in. Then, another rush of temperature change as Sokka pushed the door open and held it for Toph. He loved the strange, steamy feeling of going from the painful New England winter to a warm and pleasant indoor space with windows fogged from heat. He unzipped his jacket. Unlike Katara, he ran hot.

The Jasmine Dragon was crowded, warm, filled with chatter and art. It was several steps nicer than the Dunkin Donuts near the port where Sokka got iced coffees when he needed to stay up late studying. There were a lot of Sozin Academy blazers on teens in the booths and at the tables.

So that was how Toph knew this place. Sokka looked among them for anyone he recognized from Science Bowl (okay, mainly one person)-- but to his mingled relief and disappointment, didn’t see anyone familiar.

Sokka nudged Toph with his arm for her to take if she wanted, which she did. She got through public spaces well enough with her cane, but in crowds she liked a sighted guide. They went to the counter, where Sokka’s eyes first went to the (high) prices and then to the old man behind the counter.

“Toph, it’s been a while,” he said. He had a slow, low voice, and an expression that showed both serenity and steel. It kind of reminded Sokka of Aang’s monk dad.

Sokka looked at Toph her in surprise, but she just smiled back at the old man. “Hi, Iroh. I switched schools. Haven’t been hanging around this part of town as much,” she said.

“I hope you’re enjoying your new experience,” he said. “And you’ll always be welcome anytime. Now, what can I get you and your friend?”

Toph counted on her fingers. “Okay, two bubble teas, two hot chais, and… Sokka?” Toph asked.

This was where it felt a little uncomfortable having a rich friend. He couldn’t help but look at prices of fun and calculate, okay, one bubble tea is one gallon of gas, is half an hour’s wages hauling lobster pots in the summer, is...

But that was why Toph offered, a lot of the time, and anyway, he drove everyone around anywhere, and anyway, it wasn’t transactional, they were friends. Or so he told himself, over and over. Katara always told him not to be weird about it. “Large iced coffee, please,” he said.

The old man behind the counter nodded, rang Toph up, called the order back to the barista in the green apron. While they waited for their drinks, Sokka looked at Toph. “Didn’t know you were a regular here,” he said.

She shrugged. “I’d hang here during my free periods since my parents didn’t let me board and most of the students sucked. Guess the little blind girl sticks out in Iroh’s memory.”

Sokka grinned. “Or someone warned him about the fire ant bandit.”

“That was a crime of passion,” Toph said. “Passion and opportunity. Can you imagine the logistics it would take to bring a den of fire ants here?”

They argued for a while about what type of insect nest would be easiest to infest the coffee shop with, Toph claiming that termites would be the best choice (“their queens are basically just giant floppy gummies!”) while Sokka advocated a position of portability (“look, have you ever knocked a wasp’s nest down? It’s light as paper, even with wasps still inside.”)

This passed the time well enough before their drinks came. The old man had placed the teas in a cardboard tray, the large iced coffee beside it, already beading with condensation.

After de-wrappering the straw with his teeth and stabbing it into the plastic, he grabbed the tray of drinks, took a long sip of his iced coffee (yeah, you weren’t a real New Englander unless you were drinking iced coffee in February), and tucked it into the crook of his arm. “All right, I’m loaded up like a mule. You good?” he asked Toph.

She nodded, gesturing with her cane. “Lead on, Captain Boomerang.”

Sokka wasn't even sure where that nickname had come from.

With his free hand, he rifled through the pocket of his fleece-lined denim jacket for the car keys. As he approached the door, already mentally preparing to push it open with his shoulder, he could have sworn he heard a familiar voice answer someone asking where the bathroom was. “It’s right around back, to the left.”

Sokka swung his head around, looked back at the tables, and-- there. Zuko. He was almost unrecognizable-- hair that had previously been in a high, tight ponytail, and later a harsh buzz, now chopped, soft, messy, spilling over his face-- voice that Sokka had only ever heard confidently unpacking logarithms and theories of electromagnetism now speaking in a soft, customer-service timbre-- the sharp uniform of Sozin Academy replaced with a green apron of the Jasmine Dragon…

He was almost unrecognizable. But the evidence was there in the angry red scar splashed across his face, the golden brown eyes that Sokka had never forgotten.

The old lady walked off to the bathroom and Zuko continued wiping down tables, clearing dishes into a plastic bin.

Seeing his Science Bowl nemesis there, wiping tables, broke something in Sokka’s brain. He looked away sharply, kept walking, already panicking that Zuko would see him. Not that there was any reason for him to be worried that Zuko would see him, so why was he freaking out, other than the fact that, well, he didn’t have any witty barbs lined up, and this was Zuko, and he looked a little softer and happier than he had in the past and also maybe hotter than ever with his hair rumpled like that--

About eight levels of angst and meta-angst deep, Sokka’s brain short-circuited like an overloaded capacitor. He was at the door, Toph right with him. Desperate to leave quickly, without being seen, he pushed it with his shoulder.

And saw the sign that said “Pull” right as he smashed into it, iced coffee in his arm now… all over his front.

Well. Zuko was looking now.

“Jeez, Sokka,” said Toph. “Walk much?”

Sokka closed his eyes. “Toph, can you just...” he said.

“Sorry,” she said.

She held the cardboard tray of unharmed drinks while he grabbed a huge wad of napkins from the dispenser. He crouched down to mop up the spilled coffee and scattered ice, face burning, front soaking wet.

“Hey, I can get this,” a soft voice said, someone crouching down beside him.

Sokka looked up. Zuko was there next to him on the floor, pile of rags in one hand, roll of paper towels in the other.

Sokka looked back down at his sodden napkins. This was not how he had intended for their next meeting to go. And this image of Zuko-- a Zuko directing old ladies to the bathroom and helping clean up spills from dumbass customer-- did not jive with his previous experiences at all.

Zuko tackled the majority of the coffee, which was spreading like a tidal plain, while Sokka picked up the larger ice cubes and dropped them back into the broken plastic cup. The air between them felt like static electricity, crackling with charge differential.

“It’s Sokka, right?” Zuko asked.

Any part of Sokka’s brain that had not already been fried by the previous events shut down. “Yeah,” he said, warily.

"I'm Zuko," offered the other boy.

"I know who you are," said Sokka, refusing to acknowledge any form of friendliness with eye contact.

“Uh... you going to be there this weekend?” Zuko asked.

The spill was mostly under control, though someone would probably need to take a mop to it. Sokka pushed himself back up to his feet, halfheartedly patting his sodden napkins against his soaked shirt and jacket. (God dammit, his favorite jacket.) “I’ll be there,” he said, trying to convey as much bravado and confidence as he could while covered in cold coffee.

Zuko gave a small nod to that. His eyes drifted to the cup in Sokka’s hands. “Let me get you another coffee,” he said.

Sokka would rather spill ten more drinks in public than let this boy do a single favor for him. “I’m good,” he said.

There was a pause, one just long enough to feel weird. “It’s on me,” Zuko said awkwardly. Sokka’s insides clenched. Because you’re poor, his brain filled in the rest. He remembered the previous competitions, the last times he had seen Zuko, and his stomach twisted.

He stared at the other boy, his gaze harder this time. “I said I’m good,” he said.

Zuko looked at the ground.

“See you this weekend,” Sokka said, making sure to put some threat behind it. They were going to beat Sozin. They had to. “Let’s get out of here, Toph.”

For once, she didn’t make a comment. He took the cardboard tray from her, pulled open the door (so preoccupied with leaving with dignity he almost tried to push it again first), and ushered her out. They walked across the parking lot together, arm in arm through the snow starting to fall more quickly now, Sokka resisting the temptation to look back.

“Dude, what the hell was that?” Toph asked. “Your heart is like… pounding right now.”

Sokka said nothing. When they got back to the pickup, he opened the back, thrust the drink tray into a startled Aang’s hands, and went back to the driver’s seat.

Suki saw the storm clouds on his face. “What happened?” she said.

He still wasn't even sure what to say. He turned the keys in the ignition, buckled his belt. When he looked up through the windshield, he could see Zuko, standing in the doorway, separated by yet another layer of glass.

“Who’s Zuko?” Toph whispered in the backseat.

“He’s the captain of the Sozin Academy Science Bowl team,” Aang whispered back.

“Oh shit! I remember him from Sozin, wondered if it was the same guy,” Toph said. “What’s with him and Sokka?”

Nobody said anything. Sokka glanced up, caught Katara’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Toph…” said Katara. “Leave it be for a bit.”

Nobody commented on Sokka’s soaked shirt, but when Aang handed Suki her hot chai, she handed it to Sokka. They traded long sips, back and forth, as Sokka drove the group home underneath a gray and white sky.

Chapter Text

It was Friday, a little after eleven. Less than seven hours before Sokka would roll out of bed, make a big thermos of instant coffee, and drive Katara and Suki to Ba Sing Se High School, where Science Bowl Regionals were being held. It was a good hour away, and they needed Suki there by 8AM sharp for the division draw.

It was always an early, exhausting day, over by three in the afternoon. Sokka knew he should be sleeping. But he was wired on the large Dunkin’s iced coffee he’d had after school while he and Suki put off studying for their calc test Monday to quiz each other on physics equations, chem formulas, and every random piece of scientific trivia they could think of. And even without the caffeine, he was pretty sure he’d be lying awake anyway.

So here he was, on the floor of his attic bedroom, Bio textbook open to the chapter about plant biology, astronomy textbook he’d swiped from Bumi’s classroom open to the section explaining the seven-stage life of a star, from giant gas cloud to supernova.

But he wasn’t paying attention. He was thinking through his last three Science Bowls. Thinking about Zuko. Ever since he had run into him at the coffee shop, he hadn’t been able to get him off his mind. It was strange, how someone he barely knew had imprinted himself so deeply in Sokka’s brain.

Freshman year, his first Science Bowl. It was the first thing that had really distracted him since his mom had died of breast cancer that summer, that made him feel part of a team. Kuruk was captain, Kyoshi was a junior, Roku a sophomore. Sokka and Suki were the two freshmen. That year they had had more of a tumultuous relationship. They’d dated for a couple weeks, in the nothing way that nerdy freshmen do, until Suki came out to him as a lesbian. Sokka had walked around all butthurt like a jerk for a few days before realizing they could still be friends.

They had patched things up by February. Only four players for a team could play at a time, so they took turns in the alternate spot all day at Regionals, giving the older students more time in the competition. Sokka was the one who played the first half of the match against Sozin Academy in their round robin.

He interrupted on a toss-up about main-sequence stars, one he was excited he knew. So excited that he blurted out the answer before the judge acknowledged him.

That meant the other team got four points, and a free shot at the question. Zuko, the freshman with the golden brown eyes and the high, tight topknot buzzed in, waited pointedly to be acknowledged, echoed Sokka’s answer. Then looked back him and smirked.

It made Sokka’s blood boil. Even though it also, well, confirmed some other stuff Sokka had been kicking around in the old brain since Suki came out, about how he definitely liked girls, but maybe also liked guys. Especially brilliant guys with a cocky attitude and dark hair.

But the attraction wasn’t anything compared to the irritation Sokka felt with Zuko, and really, with himself. Especially when they lost that round in a nailbiter, and Kyoshi gave him a tongue-lashing for interrupting that he still hadn’t forgotten to this day.

Sophomore year had been very different. He had pulled Katara in, too, hoping she’d get as much fun and friendship out of it as he had. Kyoshi had been captain. She and Suki had been circling each other all year, it seemed like. She was hands-down the most fearsome captain Sokka had ever seen. She based their strategy on The Art of War by Sun Tzu, she drilled them on physics formulae, chem equations, and cell theory, and she kept monkey business to a minimum.

Sokka had mixed feelings about the experience. He had learned a ton from her, and she mowed down the competition remorselessly, almost an army of one. But Katara had been the lone freshman that year, and she barely got any time active in the game. That, he didn’t like. It was important to make sure the younger players got time to improve.

Still, for better or for worse, Kyoshi’s ruthlessness had paid off: that was the last time Omashu Magnet had made Science Bowl nationals.

That was also the year Zuko had shown up to the competition wearing a hoodie instead of a blazer, hood up, covering up bandages covering up half his face. All through the match between Omashu and Sozin Academy, when Kyoshi had blazed through toss-up after toss-up, getting most of them (though there was a Sozin freshman, a girl with two buns and a face that looked like she was permanently sucking on something sour, that had somehow won every math toss-up), Sokka had kept one eye on Zuko. He hadn’t buzzed in once, the entire time.

After they won, after giddily celebrating their victory, Sokka hugging Katara, high-fiving Roku, Kyoshi grabbing Suki in a fierce and startling first kiss, to the surprise of everyone in the room, Suki most of all-- Sokka, feeling overwhelmed, needing to calm down, had walked away down the hall.

He just intended to go and pace, let out a little energy, but had paused when he happened to glance into an open classroom doorway and saw Zuko, sitting on a desk. He was staring down at his phone, shoulders so tense they might have been carved out of stone. When he glanced up, Sokka saw tears running down the half of his face that wasn’t covered by bandages.

They stared at each other, taken aback. Zuko pulled up his hood, quickly. “What,” he said tersely, then winced like speaking tugged on whatever wound was under the bandages.

Sokka couldn’t just let someone sit there in pain like that without trying to help. Not after everything that had happened with Yue that year. “Hey,” he said. “You okay?” He didn’t know if this was because they’d just lost the competition, or if something else was going on, but the guy looked nothing short of traumatized.

Zuko took a deep breath, staring down at his phone. When he looked up, the one eye Sokka could see was blazing with fury. “Leave me alone, you fucking peasant,” he said, anunciating the words slowly and carefully, voice tight with pain.

Sokka felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He walked right back out of the classroom, heart pounding. Later on, he’d be able to regain the excitement of making nationals (especially when the team traveled all the way to Calfornia for nationals together). Later on, he’d regain some of the flare of happiness that came with winning, of proving he was smart, was good enough. But the hurt and confusion of that moment had stayed stuck with him, too, like a pebble in his shoe.

It wasn't like he felt bad that his family had no money, that his school was underfunded and his future options were limited to jobs that could figure out how to earn him back whatever he and Katara spent on college. But still, it stung, the harsh words a harsher reminder that some people out there would think less of him for the simple fact of lacking family wealth.

Eventually, hurt turned to justifiable outrage. He'd be lying if thinking back on that moment didn’t fuel him on a few late nights studying, inspiring him to go beyond what he was learning in his classes, pick up more about astronomy, more about the tides of the beaches near his house, the life cycles of the crustaceans his dad hauled in each summer and the fish he canned each winter.

By the time the next February came back up, Sokka was determined to be the best and had styled Zuko his nemesis. Roku had tried his best to fill Kyoshi’s shoes as captain, but he didn’t carry quite the same authority, or the near-photographic memory for chemical equations and physics theorems, or absolute confidence for putting forth his best guesses on the buzzer.

Still, Sokka and Suki were in AP Chem and Physics that year, and somewhere along the line Katara had converted her grief over their mother’s death into a single-minded desire to be a doctor. She had read pretty much every book she could get her hands on about cancer, which Sokka on some level felt worried about but also meant that she was a pretty great resource about Bio and A&P.

Sokka was also out to pretty much everyone as bi by that point, which had done wonders for his confidence, and he had made out with a few people of various genders, trying to convince himself that he was over the whole Yue situation. But Suki had wilted a bit that year after Kyoshi broke up abruptly with her before leaving for college, so really, she more than anyone else was Sokka’s main focus.

Wounded and wary in the trials of love, they gravitated toward each other’s friendship instead. Between the two of them, they focused on school, both of them with a chip on their shoulder and something to prove. As a result, their junior year at Science Bowl, they had efficiently sliced their way through the competition.

They faced Sozin Academy last, and as nervous as Sokka felt about the competition, he felt more nervous about seeing Zuko.

That year, his nemesis sat in the captain seat, his hair buzzed, his blazer back in place. No bandages, just a painful scar splashed across his face. Before the competition, Sokka had been determined not just to beat him, but to humiliate him. But seeing him in person before the round started, letting his imagination run wild about how awful the experience of getting that scar must have been-- that gave him a moment’s pause.

But then he remembered fucking peasant and it was on.

He and Zuko were pretty evenly matched on Physics-- they each got one of the toss-ups. But what Sokka hadn’t counted on was the rest of Zuko’s teammates. No alternate-- but two more sophomores had joined the team, meaning it was Zuko and the three girls. One had accessorized her Sozin uniform with a gigantic pink hair bow had given Katara a run for her money on anatomy and bio, leaving her shaken. The other, last year’s math prodigy, continued to blow them all out of the water on math toss-ups, sounding bored and indifferent the entire time.

And then there was the last girl, the one who looked like Zuko. The one who somehow, despite being a sophomore, sniped Suki on a Chem question, nabbed a question about lightning from right out under Sokka, and beat Aang to a question about nuclear power. And who, when Pink Bow girl had gotten one of the bio questions wrong, leaving Katara to swoop back in, had berated her in front of everyone until the judge told her to stop.

In the second half, the Omashu team got their act together, but it wasn’t enough. Sozin’s lead was too big. They were going back to nationals. Omashu wasn’t.

But Sokka couldn’t help but notice that, even though they had won, none of the Sozin kids looked particularly happy. That on their side of the room, Suki had her arm around Roku, who had picked up some steam near the end but had brought too little, too late, and Aang and Katara were hugging each other at the end of a long day and frustrating ending-- on Sozin’s side, Math Girl and Bio Girl were quiet as Terrifying Girl lit into Zuko for having let Sokka beat him out the second half’s physics questions. “Isn’t that supposed to be the one thing you’re any good at, Zuzu?”

Zuko, looking away from her, accidentally made eye contact with Sokka. They had locked eyes for one long moment, before Sokka got pulled into a comforting group hug with his team.

And now, Sokka was trying to hold all those Zukos in his head. The cocky, the maimed, the angry, the quiet, the… strangely friendly. The Zuko who had been working at the Jasmine Dragon… seemed different, somehow.

That didn’t change the fact that Sokka really fucking wanted to beat him at Science Bowl.

Footsteps on the creaky stairs up to the attic bedroom. Sokka had moved up here when Gran Gran had moved in after their mom died. “Hey,” Katara said, poking her head into his room.

“Hey yourself,” he said. “It’s almost midnight. You should be asleep.”

“I was on the phone with Aang,” she said. “He’s really nervous for tomorrow. That kid puts the whole world on his shoulders.”

Sokka sighed. Poor Aang had had a rough childhood. There was a reason that science felt life or death to him. “You talk him down?” he asked.

“I think so,” she said. “But I’m kinda awake now.”

Sokka looked at his textbooks and sighed. Maybe it was all the caffeine, but sleep felt faraway to him, too. Apparently it was an angsty evening for everyone. “Beach walk?” he asked, only half-serious. It was late and bitterly cold.

But the sky was clear, and the nearly full moon was gorgeous through the little attic skylight. “Let’s do it,” she said.

They left the house, not worrying too much about being quiet since their dad was at work and Gran Gran slept like a rock. They lived just down the road from a little bay that they thought of as “their beach.” It was not a particularly nice one-- more rock than sand, and too much seaweed and algae to swim. It butted right up next to the harbor, so it tended to have a strong smell of fish coming from the nearby boats and the large fishery where Hakoda worked the night shift over the winters when lobsters were out of season.

But it had rocks to sit on, and a few scrubby bushes that whispered in the wind, and seagulls (mostly) and pipers (sometimes) and tidal boundaries that Sokka knew the shape of well. He came here often, sometimes with Katara, sometimes alone, especially at night. It was a good place to get out of the house, a place that sometimes felt so tight and tense with memories of his mom that he needed to burst out just to breathe.

Although now that he thought about it, he and Katara hadn’t been to the beach together in a while. They’d been too busy with school, and in her case, dating an angsty edgelord.

It was nice, having a quiet moment with her. The moon was nearly full tonight. “Earth and Space, short answer. What phase is the moon in right now?” Sokka said as they picked their way down toward the beach.

Katara snorted. “Waxing gibbous. If they ask anything that easy tomorrow, I’ll be thankful.”

“We’ll be fine,” Sokka said, even though his stomach was churning. He zipped his coat all the way up to the collar. Katara and Gran Gran had approached the jacket like they were surgeons at some kind of laundry ER, ripping it off him as soon as he got home after dumping coffee all over himself. But to their credit (and also thanks to the faded stains that had already existed on the coat for years of Hakoda wearing it first), you couldn’t see any evidence of Sokka’s embarrassing moment.

Katara sat down on one of the larger rocks. Sokka went down toward the surf, finding himself the flattest, roundest rocks he could see in the darkness. It was low tide, the lowest it got. It felt like someone had drained the ocean.

They stayed silent a long while, lost in their own thoughts. They were easy together, especially in these moments close to home, late at night. Sokka skipped a rock, then another, then another. The moonlight was so bright he counted six bounces before he lost track of it in the darkness.

“Physics, short answer,” said Katara. “What property of water allows rocks to bounce across the surface?”

“Surface tension,” said Sokka. “Duh. Also, me being great at skipping rocks.”

“That’s not a property of water,” she said.

“Nope, just a universal truth,” he replied, looking up at the moon. It always reminded him of Yue. Wherever she was, he hoped, he prayed, he wished, that she was safe and happy. It killed him that he didn’t know.

“I wish Mom could come to regionals,” Katara said softly. “I think she would have really liked it.”

Sokka nodded. Kya’s death felt like a box he didn’t open, but Katara needed to talk it through sometimes. And she was right. Their mom would have loved hearing about Science Bowl. She would have come to regionals every year. She had been a librarian, and she and Hakoda had been equally insistent that their children were going to get the best education they could. “Once you learn something, no one can ever take away from you,” she always said to them, eyes fierce, whenever they complained as younger kids about the “finish all homework before TV” rule.

She had loved learning new things, equally as interested in hearing from Hakoda about the day-to-day workings of the lobster boat as she was Sokka’s books about space and the cool flowers Katara had found growing in the vacant lot out by the pier.

She would have been proud of them. Sokka knew it. But she was gone, and thinking about her hurt. “Okay, try this one,” Sokka said, pushing through the quiet that remembering Kya had created. “Earth and space, multiple choice. Right now, we’re at the lowest low tide. Is that a neap tide, a high tide--”

“Spring tide, Sokka,” Katara said. “Spring tides are the high highs and the low lows. Neaps are low highs and the high lows.”

“The boring ones,” Sokka supplied.

Katara smiled. There, that was what he was looking for. She was so serious, his sister. It had started with Kya’s death, but lately, between overstretching herself at school and spending every second of free time beyond that with Jet, it had felt like a while since he had had the chance to make her smile or laugh, just the two of them.

Still, it was February by the ocean. “Should we go in?” he said. “Big day tomorrow.”

Katara let out a long sigh, her eyes on the moon and the ocean. “Yeah,” she said. “We should get some rest.”

Unbidden, Sokka thought of Yue again-- the way he always did when it was night, and the moon was out, and he was wondering if she was okay. And then, in an odd moment of association, he wondered the same thing about Zuko. Why did they remind him of each other?

It was strange, the mental space they shared. He didn’t like having either of them in his head. Sokka skipped his last stone, hard as he could. He watched it zing across the water, arcing until he could no longer see it.

Chapter Text

In absolutely unsurprising fashion, it was the most important morning of Sokka’s senior year and they were running late. First, Sokka’s alarm didn’t go off because in the post-beach angst from the previous night, he had inadvertently set his alarm for six in the evening, not the morning. So he woke up to an angry Katara, five minutes before their Absolutely Must Depart By This Time time, and barely had time to throw on his lucky Hawaiian shirt and do his wolftail before they had to book it out of the house.

It didn’t help when they picked up an equally sleepy Suki, who had remembered their team’s paperwork, permission slips, and lucky fan, but had forgotten to put in her contact lenses. They had to double back two blocks from her house so she could run back in, only to come back with her hilariously dorky glasses because she’d lost one of the lenses in her haste to put it in.

And then there was a huge line in the Dunk’s drive thru, but Sokka knew they weren’t going to survive the morning without caffeine. Or at least, he wasn’t. Thank every god or lack thereof that Aang and his monk dad were taking the bus from near their trailer park, and Toph’s mom was taking her.

At least some Omashu parents were coming the competition. Sokka tried not to be whiny or sad about it. Suki’s folks were divorced, and bitterly. It made her so anxious to have them in the same room that she hadn’t told either of them that about the competition. And with third shift at the fishery, Hakoda was still at work when they left at quarter of seven. He wouldn’t even be home till nine in the morning. It would be selfish to want their dad there.

Regardless. Even with Aang and Toph’s parents taking them to the competition, the Sokka-Suki-Katara-mobile had barely enough time to make it to Ba Sing Se High School. So that was how, at 7:58, they screeched up to the school, Sokka steering the truck as close to the front entrance as he could legally get, yelling “Go! Go! Go!” at Suki.

Suki didn’t wait for the engine to stop before opening the passenger door and slamming out, paperwork and fan in hand. Katara followed right behind her, sprinting into the school, holding their coffees. The captains all needed to be present in the cafeteria by 8AM for the division draw, where they determined which teams they would round robin with before semis and finals.

Sokka leaned back in his seat and let out a long breath, turning the car back into the largely empty parking lot and letting his prized truck have a rest. “Thanks, girl,” he said, patting the dashboard after he pulled the keys out of the ignition.

He stretched, closed his eyes, visualized himself hitting the buzzer, answering questions. Then he grabbed his and Suki’s reusable water bottles (she’d left hers in her haste to get to the division draw), checked his hair and lucky Hawaiian shirt in the rearview mirror. Showtime, baby.

*

Ba Sing Se High School was huge, the district over from the much smaller Omashu Magnet School. It was the same location regionals had been held the last several years, so it was familiar to Sokka as he came in through the main doors, walked through the silent Saturday hallways with his shoes echoing against the linoleum, and turned left to find the huge cafeteria.

All the squads sat at different tables with their coaches and whatever parents had mustered the energy to come out at 8 on a Saturday, like weird little cliques that for some reason included adults drinking bad coffee from a carafe out of Styrofoam cups. Sokka spotted his team right away: Aang stood out in his omnipresent yellow and orange hoodie (and tattoos), and Toph’s cane and bright green T-shirt were equally eye-catching. Then there was Katara, who had taken pains to dress primly and properly in a white blouse, gray skirt, and blue sweater, but was joking and chattering with the rest of the motley crew.

Not to mention Bumi, who had donned a full tweed suit, elbow patches and all, for the occasion.

To Sokka’s relief, Suki was standing up at the front with the other captains, her hastily done car makeup (big red eye shadow she referred to as war paint) visible from across the room even behind her glasses. They stood in front of a tired-looking school official and an empty bracket printed on posterboard. (Science Bowl was not exactly the most glamorous of events.)

So they had made it in time. Lit. Sokka breezed in, trying to project easy confidence, and sat down at the table with his friends. “Morning, y’all,” he said.

“You made it,” Aang said, bumping his fist.

“Barely. Wish I hadn’t had to sprint in this skirt,” Katara said.

“First rule of Science Bowl, dress for attack,” Sokka told her.

Toph’s mom was there, too, watching them all with a kind of bemused tolerance in her mint green suit. Sokka had met her a few times before. She was polite and tightly wound, a polar opposite of her daughter. The very first time Sokka dropped Toph off after practice, she had come out to the car and, through the window, asked Sokka how long he’d had his driver’s license (a year and a half), and how many seatbelts the truck had (five), and for his parents’ phone number (in case she ever wanted to check with a Trusted Parental Source on Toph’s whereabouts).

Sitting next to Toph’s mom was Gyatso, as bald and tattooed as Aang, wearing his robes, looking around the room with interest. Aang’s dad (okay, not his bio dad, but the guy who had raised him) was a monk for some sort of Eastern sect that Sokka couldn’t pretend to know anything about.

He knew the story from Katara: Aang had been dropped off as a newborn at a temple, and raised by the monks there. But a few years ago, a monsoon-- a historic one, an unprecedented one at the wrong time of year-- had flooded the temple and the village surrounding it. Taken unawares, many of the monks had died, and the temple itself had been destroyed. After the devastating flood, the rest of the monks had scattered to other temples or even countries. Aang and Gyatso had come to the States, the latter deciding that Aang should have the opportunity to learn more about the world and what happened beyond the walls of the monastery.

Aang didn’t like to talk about his past much. Katara was the only one who had gotten him to talk about it. He didn’t want to be treated like some tragedy, he wanted to goof around with friends and learn as much as he could. Sometimes it was easy to forget how personal his obsession with climate science and energy tech was. He’d seen the effects of climate change firsthand. He’d lost family.

But, Sokka reflected, at least he had Gyatso, whom he adored-- it was easy to tell in the way the two exchanged giggles as Gyatso swiped Bumi’s half-eaten donut out from under him as he let out an enormous yawn.

“All right, everyone,” a tired looking school official wearing a bizarre tie with a goofy, grinning bear, stood by the captains next to the empty bracket. “I’m Vice Principal Bosco. Welcome to this year’s Northeast Regional Science Bowl. We’re going to get started with the division draw, here.”

Sokka looked up at the group of 12 captains getting ready for the division draw, looking for the telltale maroon blazer of Sozin Academy. Where was Zuko? Instead, the girl that looked like a younger, crueler version of him stood amongst the captains in her blazer and a perfectly crisp blouse and skirt.

Trying to appear casual, Sokka looked around at the other teams, clustered at the lunch tables with various parents and adults. There-- there were the Sozin Academy kids in their uniforms. There was Zuko, with the other two girls from last year, and a tall, imposing man Sokka remembered as their coach.

Weird. Sokka had figured Zuko would be captaining for Sozin again.

“We have two divisions of six this year. Each captain will draw which division their team will play in. The competition will start with a round robin-- every team will play every team in their division. After that, we’ll split into our placement brackets... hang on...” The harried man flipped through papers on his clipboard. “Right. The top bracket will be in contention for the two spots to nationals; at the end of the bracket the teams with the best records will take those spots. Tiebreakers are listed in your pamphlets.” He mopped his brow, glancing at his watch. “Schedules and locations are in there, too. All right, we’re already late. Time to draw pools.”

The captains lined up to draw little slips of paper from a cardboard box. The Sozin captain had wormed her way to the front of the line. “A2,” she said to the woman who was standing next to the bracket with a big marker, to associate the team names to the bracket.

When Suki came up near the end, Sokka put his thumb and finger in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. “Go Suki!” he called. Several heads in the cafeteria turned. (Including Zuko’s, his brain pointed out unhelpfully.)

Grinning, shaking her head, Suki drew B5. So they were in Pool B. Sokka mentally ran through the other schools in their pool. A few he remembered from last year. Nobody unduly threatening. Ba Sing Se High was a big enough school that they tended to have a solid team, and Sozin was Sozin, of course, but they were both in Pool A. Looking good.

“All right, everyone. Best of luck today. First round starts in ten minutes. Lunch will be provided at noon. Please stick to the schedule, we’re already running behind.” Vice Principal Bosco adjusted his bear tie.

Suki came back to the table, already flipping through her pamphlet to find B5’s schedule. “All right, y’all,” she said. “We’re in Room 114 to start. Let’s hit the road. Sokka, give us a battle plan on the way?”

And they were off.

*

First round, versus Si Wong Charter High. Sokka’s battle plan: “Don’t remember much about these guys, but we’re going to start solid and calm. Let’s not get crazy with interruptions until they show us that we need to worry about speed on the buzzer. Anything to add, co-captain?”

“Let’s fucking do this,” Suki said, as she always did. Out of the corner of his eye, in the back of the classroom where the parents and coaches sat, Sokka saw Toph’s mom’s eyes grow wide at the profanity. He had to smile.

They sat in their usual seats: Sokka in Seat 1, Suki in the captain’s seat, Katara in Seat 2, Aang in Seat 3, Toph sitting as alternate to start. Captains were in the middle to more easily hear bonus discussions, and the judges used the numbering system to acknowledge the players when they buzzed in on the question. Sokka felt a little thrill. It was strange coming back here as a senior, as a leader on his team, as someone confidently taking Seat 1 instead of splitting it with Suki or ceding it to someone older.

The Si Wong charter kids sitting on the Team A side of the room looked tired, their captain fighting back a yawn. They would have had an even further drive than Omashu. Sokka was tired from being up late the previous night, sure, but the morning’s adrenaline had him feeling focused and wired.

The judge was a lady named Mrs. Hama who introduced herself as a Biology teacher here at Ba Sing Se. She had a real… mad scientist energy about her. In less a kooky way than Bumi, and more a way that suggested that she would happily take any of the contestants apart to see what was inside them. It gave Sokka the heebie-jeebies.

Still, they were here, they were ready. “Question one,” she read. “Math, short answer If all of the prime factors of 444, including multiple occurences, are added, how much greater will the result be than that for 222?”

The tiniest pause, then Suki and Sokka hit their buzzers at the same time-- Sokka with his signature slam, Suki just a touch of the button. Hers lit up.

Ms. Hama acknowledged her. “B Captain.”

“Two,” Suki said confidently.

“Correct,” Ms. Hama said. “Bonus, short answer. Two circles with radii of 3 inches and 1 inch have the same center…”

Sokka wrote it all down, his brain already pulling up all the formulae about circles he knew. They were here. They were doing it. Today was the day.

They ripped through questions. The only question the Si Wong team got access to was an Earth Science toss-up (something about desert biomes that Sokka had hesitated a little too long on, waiting to see if anyone on his team might have a better answer).

By halftime eight minutes later, they were up by forty points. Sokka felt like he was coming up for air. He had forgotten how short these rounds were, how fast the questions went by when you didn’t stop to heckle each other each round. They huddled up together during the two-minute half. “Toph, you get in here,” Sokka said. “I’ll sit this one.”

She nodded, blew her hair out of her face, and cracked her knuckles. “Thanks, Captain Boomerang.”

If anything, Omashu came out even hotter in the second half than the first. Si Wong didn’t have a chance. Toph, like an old pro, got the jump on the other team on both Earth Science questions on the buzzer, though neither team got the answer to which star is the brightest in the constellation Orion. (Sokka was more or less the only one on the team who knew any Astronomy.) Aang, despite looking nervous, settled in in the second half as their lead grew and even helped Suki out on a Physics bonus without Sokka next to her.

Sokka felt himself glowing with pride at his ragged band of misfits. They had worked so hard. They deserved to be here. The final question-- not that it mattered, they were so far ahead-- was Biology. “Short answer,” said Mrs. Hama. “Glucagon is primarily manufactured in the alpha cells of what human organ?”

As soon as she uttered the word “Glucagon”, Sokka knew Katara, who was sitting in the B1 seat now, had this one in the bag. But it was the Si Wong captain’s buzzer who lit up. He waited to be acknowledged. “The liver?” he said.

“I’m sorry, that’s incorrect.” Spooky Lady judge reset the buzzers. Immediately, Katara’s was lit. “B1?”

“Pancreas,” she said confidently.

“Correct. Bonus, short answer…”

Aang reached over Suki and patted Katara on the back, smiling. She smiled back at him. They didn’t get the bonus (it was a complicated one, something about DNA ligase), but they didn’t need it. With that, they had notched one victory in the books.

Suki shook hands with a slightly overwhelmed looking Si Wong captain, and they both signed the match results. “I can take this back to the caf, y’all,” Suki said. “We’re in room 106 next. Meet there in ten.”

“That was very exciting!” Gyatso said, coming over to the group.

Mrs. Beifong came along behind him, a little hesitant, but a smile on her face. She put a hand on Toph’s shoulder. “I have to say, you all know your stuff.”

As they began the journey to the next classroom (thank God they were leaving spooky lady behind), Sokka couldn’t resist a little coaching. “Katara, you knew that pancreas one,” he said. “Don’t overthink it. When you know you know, just hit that buzzer.”

“Their bio guy was hemorrhaging points, Sokka,” she said. “I wanted to wait till I was certain, and even if I got beat, I didn’t think he’d be a threat.”

“Okay, well, that’s not going to be the case with every team,” he said to her. “With some of these teams, pretty sure is gonna have to be good enough.”

“I know, Sokka,” she said. “This isn’t my first competition. And you’re the one who said not to go crazy with interruptions this round, Mr. Battle Plans.” Rolling her eyes, she caught up to Aang and Gyatso as they walked toward the hallway.

He shrugged. Fair point. “Mr. Battle Plans,” said Toph. “I like that one.”

“Mr. Battle Plans is my father,” Sokka said. “Call me Sokka.”

“I will not,” said Toph, her mom walking close next to her, like she didn’t trust her to be able to walk down the hallway herself.

They walked down the hall together, crossing paths with other teams streaming in and out of classrooms as rounds started and ended, like schools of fish swimming among one another. Up ahead, Sokka saw the Sozin kids, moving as one, blazers standing out among the more casual schools.

That’d be later. For now, they had further butts to kick in their pool.

*
Round two, against the West Lake High School Serpents. Their new judge was named Mr. Ganjin, a fastidious-looking man in a white blazer.

Sokka had no idea what to expect from this team. They all wore matching letterman jackets with serpents on the back, so their school probably had money. But they hadn’t been in Omashu’s pool the past couple of years. “All right, y’all,” he said when it was time to give a battle plan. “Lot of unknowns here. Just focus on the questions, write down notes as the judge reads bonuses, and if there are any strategy adjustments, me and Suki’ll let you know at halftime.” He glanced at her. “Anything to add?”

“Let’s fucking do this,” she said for the second time that day. This time, Toph’s mom pressed her lips together tightly, but didn’t look surprised.

The match was a good one. Aang sat out first, Katara second. The Serpents put up more of a fight than Si Wong had. Sokka came out strong with a multiple choice interruption about Hubble’s Law. Suki came to Toph’s rescue on an Earth and Space bonus question about a crater lake that she happened to have read a wikipedia article about recently.

The Serpents were fast, but not infallible by any means, and though Sokka’s team missed a few more bonuses than he would have liked, they were mostly in control of the buzzer. A solid victory.

He took a turn running their scoresheet back to the cafeteria. Casually, he glanced at the bracket that Vice Principal Bosco was filling out, just to see what was going on in the other pool. Sozin Academy, undefeated so far.

He nodded grimly. That was to be expected. Back to his own pool.

*

By Round 3, Sokka was starting to feel the exhaustion of the previous night settle in. Damn, why had he been up so late angsting about Zuko? Why had he dragged Katara into it too? They were back in the same classroom with Mr. Ganjin for this round. The students that walked in for their match, surrounded by parents, were from Whaletail Island Homeschooling Collective. The captain for Whaletail Island had gigantic pigtails and introduced herself to Suki as Meng.

Sokka suppressed a groan. Last year, these students hadn’t been particularly aggressive on the buzzer, but they had had the best rate of bonus completion he’d ever seen outside of Sozin Academy.

The team huddled around him for a battle plan, Sokka pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to shake off the urge to yawn. “Right. Last year, these guys weren’t fast, but they were smart. I want us to stay in control of the board. No interruptions unless you’re confident, but I want to see us first on the buzzer otherwise. Even if we’re just pretty sure.” He glanced at Katara, who rolled her eyes. “I think the expected value will pay off. Now Suki, what you got to say?”

She grinned, even though Sokka could see dark circles under her eyes behind the glasses she hated. “I got to say, let’s fucking do this.”

By now, Toph’s mom seemed used to the profanity, looking at her phone at what was undoubtedly some important business email.

Toph sat out for the first half this round. Sokka drummed his pen against his desk as Mr. Ganjin opened the folder for the round, one hand resting on his buzzer. “Question one, Physics, short answer. What particular type of Raman scattering occurs when the emitted photon is of higher wavelength than the incident one?”

Hands hit buzzers. Sokka had been sure he’d gotten it, but it was Meng’s buzzer who lit up. “Stokes,” she said after being acknowledged.

“That’s correct,” said Mr. Ganjin.

While he read the Whaletail homeschoolers their bonus, Suki held out her fist to him. “C’mon, we got this,” she whispered.

He gave her a first bump back. No use getting shaken.

Unlike the first games that had flown, this one was starting to feel slower. It felt like they had been at this school forever. They got the next two questions, but only one bonus. They edged toward halftime, and went into it with a small lead.

During the half, Suki said, “Come on, everyone, let’s all take a breath together.” They did, and somehow, it helped a little with the anxiety Sokka was starting to feel in his stomach. He saw Gyatso smiling at their little group huddle, next to Bumi, asleep, snoring gently. The sights gave him some courage.

They’d had three bio questions in the first half, so Katara sat out the second half, even though it made Sokka a little nervous not having his sister’s steady hand against the homeschoolers. Still, with a four-question streak near the end, ending with Aang pulling some statistics about cellulosic feedstocks from seemingly nowhere, Omashu took the match.

They all looked at each other, some of them sweaty, others breathing a little harder. Sokka both. He sweated like a pig when he was focused. “How many more matches before lunch?” Toph asked, finally, breaking the silence.

“Two,” said Suki, who’d been twisting her hair so aggressively around her finger during the match that hair was falling out of its topknot. “Here, I brought some walnuts for us to share. We’re going back to room 114.” She glanced at her watch. “Woof. Next match in fifteen. Sokka, you want to run our scoresheet to the caf?”

He nodded, relieved to be standing, moving, something to relieve the exhaustion weighing him down. “See you in a minute.”

In the cafeteria, he paused to grab a cup of the crappy coffee, now lukewarm, and looked at the bracket. Sozin, like them, still 3-0. He glanced at their own pool. Round 4 in Pool B was against Foggy Swamp Regional High, a school from up north in kind of a hick town. Still, they were the only other team in Pool B that was undefeated so far.

“Good for them,” he said out loud. Too bad they were about to go down. Vice Principal Bosco, whom Sokka had mentally christened as Mr. Bear-Tie, looked at him in bemusement from his plastic chair next to the bracket.

Sokka handed in the signed scorecard. “What room is B5 in next?” he asked the guy. The number Suki had told him had already dribbled out of his brain. It was too occupied with PV = nRT and f = ma to remember silly things like classroom numbers.

After consulting his clipboard for what felt like eons, the school official found his schedule. “114,” Mr. Bear-Tie said.

Shit. That was the creepy Hama lady again. “Thank you, my good sir,” said Sokka, and turned to leave.

On the way out of the cafeteria, he saw Zuko, coming in, scoresheet in hand. Their gazes met each other, locked together for one long, weird moment, bringing Sokka back to the coffee shop, back to years past, back to fucking peasant.

Dammit. Not today. Sokka ducked past him, moving fast now. He had a team to find, a battle plan deliver. He’d see Zuko soon enough. He just needed to beat enough teams to get there.

*

Sokka was so distracted by all this that he took a wrong turn on the way back to 114, and almost missed the start of the match. He was running by the time he got to the classroom, two minutes to spare by the clock on his phone. He opened the door and booked it over to his team huddled on one side of the room.

The door slammed shut behind him. Mrs. Hama gave him a dirty look, the kind like maybe she’d turn him into a puppet if she could. He shuddered, then turned his focus to his team, joining the huddle.

“Where you been? Thought I was gonna have to take over as co-captain,” Toph said.

“Just doing really important things,” Sokka said, panting a little.

“You got a battle plan for us or we just doing this?” Suki said.

Sokka glanced over at the Foggy Swamp guys. It was hard to tell if they were sleepy, or maybe a little stoned. “Let’s just do this.”

Suki shrugged, clapped her hands together. “You heard him, y’all. ”

Not their best work, or their usual call and response. But it would have to do. They filed over to their seats, Aang sitting out first, hopping down into the seat between Gyatso and Bumi.

Ms. Hama looked both teams over, cleared her throat, and without preamble, started the round timer. “Question one. Energy, short answer. What refinery process is used to separate components of petroleum based on their boiling points?”

Fuck. Why had they subbed out Aang? Bad luck. Sokka buzzed, but his heart wasn’t really in it. Anyway, one of the Foggy Swamp guys, the one in the captain’s seat wearing a big green bucket hat even though it was indoors, had already beaten him to it. “Fractional distillation,” he said, a slight drawl to his voice. He was correct.

They got the bonus right, too, with a little talking and giggling amongst themselves. Sokka and Suki exchanged glances, re-steeled themselves.

“Question two. Earth and space, multiple choice. Spectroscopic binaries are easiest to detect when W, the stars are of the same spectral class, X, the orbit is viewed edge-on, Y, The orbit is wide, Z, The orbit is viewed face-on... B1.”

Sokka was between X and Z, and he knew no one on his team was going to come close on this. “Z,” he said, crossing his fingers under the table.

“I’m sorry, that’s incorrect,” Mrs. Hama said. “A3?”

“X,” the tall, skinny guy said.

“Correct,” Mrs. Hama said.

“Fuck,” whispered Sokka softly to himself. Mrs. Hama glared at him. “Language warning for Team B.”

Suki slapped Sokka on the wrist as Mrs. Hama read the Foggy Swamp boys their bonus. They got that one, too.

The half didn’t go any better from there. The Omashu team started clawing their way back from their early deficit, but these stoner-looking guys were a lot better than they looked at Science Bowl. It didn’t help that three Energy questions-- three!-- came up with Aang on the bench. By the time they ended the half, they were down by thirty-six. At least three full questions with bonuses.

Suki’s face was flushed, sweaty. She took off her glasses, cleaned them on her soft T-shirt. She leaned over to Sokka as the two minute break timer started. “F,” she whispered.

Sokka just nodded. “Should we sub in Aang?”

She hesitated, looking between Toph and Aang. “Maybe they already asked all the Energy questions.”

It was a fair point. The question topics were technically supposed to be random, but you didn’t usually see more than three or four in a given round. Still, in a tight match like this, Sokka relied more on experience than specialization. “Let’s get him in,” he said.

Suki nodded. “Aang, you’re up. Toph, nice work.”

On the other side of the room, the Foggy Swamp guys appeared to be looking at a cool cloud formation out the window. Dammit, thought Sokka. The Omashu team did best when they were loose and having fun, and right now, the only people having fun in the room were their opponents.

The second half didn’t go much better than the first. Not only had Suki been right-- not a single Energy question for Aang, but several Earthy questions that would have been right up Toph’s alley (Sokka cursed himself)-- but it was clear that no one on Omashu was firing on all cylinders. Suki, twitchy and nervous, buzzed in on a Chemistry multiple choice about London dispersion forces and froze, her mind blanking out which letter corresponded to the correct answer. Sokka, determined to make up for it, buzzed over Katara on a question about plant hormones, which he got wrong. (He always mixed up fucking auxin and gibberelin.)

Even Bumi was awake and watching the slow-motion train wreck.

And then, near the end-- finally, an Energy question. “Multiple choice. Which of the following is an isotope that has attracted recent interest in terms of developing a new generation of cleaner, proliferation-resistant nuclear power? W, Uranium-235, X, Thorium-232-- interrupt.”

“X,” said Aang, then his face went white. He hadn’t waited to be acknowledged by his seat, B3.

“Blurt penalty,” said Mrs. Hama smoothly. “Four points to Team A. Question will be re-read.”

Aang stared down at the desk. Katara put her arm around him, hugged him close for a moment, before letting go. That was the round-- there were questions left, sure, but it was out of reach point-wise.

Katara was the only one who got any of the remaining questions, and when time ran out, she turned toward the rest of her team as the Foggy Swamp guys celebrated with high-fives all around. “Wow,” she said.

Sokka was still staring in disbelief. “Damn,” he said.

“Not our best,” Katara said. She had a real gift for the deadpan understatement.

“I’m so sorry, you guys,” Aang said, pulling his hoodie all the way over his head and pulling the strings until it was so tight they couldn’t see his face.

Sokka glanced at Suki. It was hard letting go of the easy vision he had had of them winning their pool and moving onto bracket play. Now they’d need to win their next match to even make the champion bracket. This was where they needed Suki’s calming presence to steer the ship.

“Aang, it’s okay,” Suki said, her sentences coming in short, clipped bursts. “Not your fault. Bad luck on a lot of those. Look, we’re going to be fine, okay?” Hands trembling, she looked down at her schedule. “Everyone just… take a few minutes. Chill out. I’ll be right back. Next match in ten minutes, back in 106. We’ll regroup in five.”

Shoulders perfectly straight and rigid, she walked out of the classroom.

Sokka watched her leave. He’d seen that look on her face before. He looked back around at his dejected teammates, at Bumi walking over. At least their coach was there to support them, in whatever weird Bumi way he could. “I’ll be right back, too,” he said. “C’mon, y’all, heads high. We’re fine. Bumi, you got any good stories for these guys? Or snacks?”

Bumi stroked his beard, looked up at the fluorescent lights. Building suspense. “Well. I’m certain I must’ve told you about the time the power went out in the reptile lab in the dead of winter and I had to snuggle up with a boa constrictor to keep it warm?”

Aang looked up, though he didn’t emerge from his sweatshirt hood. “I haven’t heard that one.”

“Me neither,” said Toph.

“It’s a good one,” Katara said, smiling and digging into the snack bag in Suki's backpack. She glanced at Sokka, tilted her head toward the door. He nodded back, relieved for Katara’s ability to keep her shit together when everyone else was reeling, and left on the hunt for Suki.

It didn’t take long to find her. He looked left and right down the hallway, and-- there. Her green high tops, poking out of an alcove between banks of red lockers. He found her sitting, knees drawn up to her chest, hands playing with the Kyoshi fan.

He sat down beside her, not saying anything. Suki felt things hard, but she didn’t like making a big deal of crying. But when she let out one small choked sob, he couldn’t resist pulling her in tight for a side hug. “Sorry,” she said in a very small voice. “This is dumb.”

“You know what’s dumb?” Sokka said. “Fucking plant hormones. And London dispersion forces.”

"Sorry I blanked out," Suki said.

"Sorry I got way too buzzer-happy. And took Toph out just in time for all the Earth Science." Sokka leaned his head back against the cold bricks of the wall, letting it thunk a little.

Suki wiped her eyes under the thick-rimmed black glasses. “Kyoshi would have gotten the London dispersion question,” she said, voice trembling a little. "And the plant hormones."

“Kyoshi was fucking insane and also, I’m sorry, kind of a dick,” Sokka said. “I pick you over her, every time.”

Suki made a face. She had hero worshipped Kyoshi so completely that she had claimed every crumb of responsibility for their breakup, dismissing criticisms of her at face value. “It’s just… she never would have put us in this position,” she said. “Losing to fucking Foggy Swamp. If we play like that next round we're not gonna even make it out of our pool.”

“Honestly, those Foggy Swamp guys put up a good fight,” Sokka said. “Luck of the draw. And anyway, dude, unlike when Kyoshi was captaining, we win as a team, and we lose as a team. It’s not your fault.”

Suki sighed. She fished in her pocket for a tissue. “Sorry,” she said again. “This is not helping anything. I just needed to go feel worthless for a minute, regroup, and then we’ll come back out for some ass kicking.”

Sokka couldn’t stand it sometimes. “Suki, I just… god dammit. I just want to go find anyone who’s ever made you feel worthless and just… slap them in the face with a cactus.”

She let out a slightly garbled laugh. “Thanks, Sokka. I know, I know. You got a copy of the bracket?”

“You know it,” he said, and pulled out the schedule. Not that it made much of a difference-- they both knew the drill, they had to win from here on out if they wanted to make nationals. At best, they'd come in second in their pool, which meant they’d see Sozin first in crossovers.

Suki let out a long, shaky breath, her voice returning to a somewhat normal tone as she reverted back to where she was comfortable: talking Science Bowl strategy with her co-captain. “If they’re anything like they were last year, Bored Math Girl is going to be pretty unbeatable.”

“We’re gonna have to go hard on them on Bio and Earth, I think,” Sokka said. “Zuko and Scary Girl are pretty good on Chem and Physics.”

Suki nodded. “We’ll sit Aang first, see if we can get Katara to come out hot on bio against Happy Girl.”

“Roger that. We probably want her in the whole time." Sokka thought back to last year’s competition, about the pile of medical textbooks and cell bio primers stacked in Katara’s bedroom. “I know she wants a rematch of last year.”

Suki looked at him, bonked her head against his in a gentle and affectionate gesture. “I know you do, too,” she said. She wiped her face, adjusted the glasses (Sokka honestly thought they were adorable, though Suki would smack him if he ever told her that), and took a deep breath. “All right,” she said. “One thing at a time. Pool play first. Let’s fucking do this.”

“Amen, sister,” Sokka said, and pulled her back to her feet. They walked down the hallway together, arm in arm. Ready to face their last few matches, however they would go, together.

Chapter Text

“Energy, multiple choice. What would be the total kinetic energy of an object rolling down a ramp with no slippage? W, half MV squared, X, half I omega squared, Y, half MV squared plus half I omega squared, Z-- interrupt, B1.”

Sokka took in a deep breath, checking and double checking his memory, hands trembling slightly. “Y,” he said.

“Correct,” Mr. Ganjin said. “Bonus, short answer. What general type of nuclear reactor generates more fissile...”

Sokka almost collapsed in relief, tuning out the bonus. He’d buzzed before he’d been sure, but anything rolling down a ramp had rotational and linear kinetic energy. He’d just been waiting for the option that smashed the two together… and that had gotten them the last question of the round.

They’d been up by a bonus--aka, barely-- and with this toss-up, they’d locked in a win over Hira’a High School, a public school further inland. The match had been messy, not their best, still with some of the sloppiness of the morning. But with it, they’d scrapped out their final win in pool play, leaving them with a 4-1 record and a spot in the championship bracket. Still in contention for nationals.

“Sokka, you agree?” Suki asked, bringing him back to the present. She and Aang had been talking through the bonus, leaning back in their seats so they could talk with Katara between them.

“Missed the question,” Sokka said, still a little shaky with relief.

Suki took it in stride, cool as a cucumber. She had more than recovered from her minor freakout now that they were back in game. “What was it, Aang?”

“Breeder reactor,” he said. “They’re super cool.”

Suki repeated that answer to the judge (omitting Aang’s commentary), and they got their bonus. “Fuck, yes!” Toph said. She’d been subbed out for the second half, sitting between her mom and Gyatso. The monk had watched the match with a calm expression and a straight spine, but his eyes flickered back and forth between the contestants and buzzers like he was watching a tennis match. Now, he let out a wide smile, showing that he agreed with Toph’s assessment.

“Language, Toph!” her mom snapped. To her credit, Toph’s mom had been following the matches closely too. Sokka had seen a small prim grin, all she allowed herself, come over her face whenever Toph got an answer right.

Mr. Ganjin nodded emphatically. “Omashu, the round’s over, but you’re going to need to watch that.”

Katara let out a heavy sigh. “We’re on it. Thanks, Mr. Ganjin.”

Sokka was too busy reveling in relief to be concerned about a little swearing after the match. He’d bitten his tongue on several F-words during this round, not willing to give up another swearing penalty. This round had been closer than he wanted, but even if it hadn’t been particularly elegant, it was good to see them regaining a little confidence as their scrappy selves. “It doesn’t have to look good,” he said to Suki. “Just has to get the job done.”

“We out here,” she replied, snapping her fan open and fanning her warm face.

“You know what this means?” Aang said in excitement, scooching his chair out and swiveling around so he was sitting on it backward.

Katara smiled. “We made the championship bracket?”

“Oh, right-- well, that, but I was gonna say, lunch!”

Sokka’s stomach growled in response. “Ah, lunch,,” he said. “It seemed a distant dream for so long… but lunch… my love… I return to you.”

Suki smiled. “All right, we did what we needed here. Let’s get lunch, take a break, and we’ll regroup for bracket play.”

After five straight rounds in a row, lunch was a mercy. Teams got an hour. Lunches were provided for the students and for sale for the parents, slightly soggy but perfectly serviceable sandwiches from the cafeteria, with a bag of chips each. The cafeteria echoed with mingled voices and wrappers as teams discussed the rounds in animated voices, or ate their sandwiches with dull dejected faces.

Toph’s mom took one look at the sandwiches, wrinkled her nose, and drove out to pick up “some real food” for herself, Gyatso, and Bumi. The latter two went outside together for “a breath of fresh air.” Sokka was a little worried that the two of them were going to team up and go rob a bank or something, but it was at least fun to see the two geezers getting along. Maybe they were going to smoke weed and play Pai Sho or whatever old guys did together.

Aang and Toph had Fritos in their lunch sacks, while Sokka and Suki had Lays. “Yo Aang, I’ll go half and half with you on chips,” Sokka said, his mouth full of turkey and cheese sandwich. “C’mon, that’s a good deal.”

Aang was busy eying Katara’s Doritos. “I think I can do better,” he said. He started to make a grab for her chips.

Katara was busy texting. Without looking away from her phone, she slapped Aang’s hand away. “Hey, while the adults are away… Jet’s parents are out of town this weekend. You guys wanna have a party tonight?”

Suki and Sokka exchanged glances. “Maybe we should wait to see how we do in the top bracket before planning on a party,” Sokka said, his mouth full of chips. “Seems like a jinx waiting to happen.”

“Plus we’re all gonna be exhausted,” Suki pointed out.

“You guys are no fun at all,” said Toph.

“Yeah, where’s the confidence?” Katara said. “We got this. I’m feeling good.”

“Plus if we do lose, we can commiserate,” said Aang. “As a team.”

“With Jet?” Sokka asked, wrinkling his nose. Katara elbowed him in the gut.

Suki checked her watch. “Well, maybe. Listen, y’all, we’re starting up again in like twenty minutes. We can talk about happy party or sad party afterward. We’ve got Sozin next, and after that-- well, what happens after depends how we do and how Foggy Swamp vs. Ba Sing Se goes. It’s time to start getting focused.”

“Now would be the time to pee,” Katara added helpfully, the voice of experience.

Sokka grabbed his almost empty Nalgene. “I’m gonna fill my water. Anyone else need a refill at the fountain while I’m at it?”

Four water bottles were tossed in his general direction. He sighed as Toph’s missed wildly and clattered to the ground, attracting gazes from the other tables. His neck heated up when he saw heads turning at the Sozin table, but resolutely, he ignored it.

He gathered the refillable bottles into his arms. “Back in a sec,” he told his team, and went out into the hall through the double doors held open by their doorstops. He was pretty sure he’d seen a fountain earlier-- there. Way nicer than the ones at Omashu Magnet, too, with one of those vertical faucets for filling bottles.

He set the first one down to fill, looked around the hallway at a slightly dusty trophy case and a poster advertising some school play, Love Amongst the Dragons. Ugh. Omashu had done that one his freshman year, and it had been a hot mess. Based on the poster, though, this one looked to have higher production value. Ba Sing Se was a bigger school than Omashu, and definitely had better funding. They’d be seeing their team soon, a team with probably better coaching and more money-- and they’d have to beat both them and Sozin to make nationals. And maybe even play Foggy Swamp again in a tiebreaker if those guys continued to dominate.

Nerves were starting to creep in. He remembered the last time he’d been wandering these hallways. He was facing Zuko soon. It was his last chance. He had to beat him, had to win. He mentally flipped through the laws of thermodynamics, a nervous tic, a reassuring litany.

Soft footsteps behind him, and a quiet, slightly gravelly voice. “Hey.”

Sokka’s stomach twisted. Okay… he was facing Zuko now. He glanced over his shoulder. There he was, his nemesis, walking down the hallway, hands jammed deep into the pockets of his blazer. “Hi,” Sokka said, stupidly.

Zuko’s face was tight, nervous. “Uh… Zuko here,” he said. “I don’t know if, uh… I ever actually introduced myself.”

Sokka felt his jaw set. “You did. I know who you are,” he said. He glanced back toward the cafeteria. He saw Suki looking at them, questions in her eyes. The Sozin Academy girls were deep in conversation, but the one who looked like a crueller, female Zuko watched them, too, eyes narrow.

“Yeah, that... makes sense,” Zuko said, one hand going to the back of his neck. “Look, can I talk to you for a sec?”

Sokka leaned against the wall, pretending to appear unbothered. He even managed to avoid knocking over the water bottle when he retrieved it from the water fountain, swapping it out for the next one. “What’s up?”

Zuko stayed silent for a long moment. No hoodie this year, just a spotless maroon blazer with the crest of Sozin Academy on the lapel, tie tied in a perfect half Windsor (or whatever the fuck kind of knot it was, Sokka hadn’t worn a tie since his mother’s funeral and Gran Gran had tied that one for him).

He pushed his tousled hair out of his face, fingers brushing across his scar. Finally, he started talking, low and breathless, like he had to get this all out before he lost his nerve. “Listen, uh… I assume you remember, I said something really bad to you a couple years ago.”

Sokka shrugged, trying to pretend the words fucking peasant fucking peasant fucking peasant weren’t rolling around his brain like marbles in a jar, the way they had been since he saw Zuko at the Jasmine Dragon three days ago.

Zuko continued. “It wasn’t just bad, it was… uh… it was pretty inexcusable. Just unbelievably rude. I was going through some stuff at the time, but that wasn’t an excuse to just… go off like that on someone who asked if I was okay.” He stared at the ground.

Sokka realized he, himself, wasn’t breathing, and let out a shaky breath. He thought of Coulomb’s law: the smaller the distance between two charged particles, the greater the electrical force between them. He and Zuko were standing close, so close, and the electricity between them felt like it could knock out power to the whole school. The hallway was quiet, except for the rest of Zuko’s words, spoken low and quickly.

“I still think about it, and feel really bad. I shouldn’t have said it. And when I saw you the other day, I just…” He raked his hand through his hair. “Anyway. You don’t have to forgive me or anything, but… I just wanted to apologize, because you deserve an apology for what I said.” Zuko met his eyes for one brief moment, then turned back toward the cafeteria.

Sokka wasn’t sure what had done it-- was it the sincerity of the words, the quiet force with which they were delivered? Or was it the eyes that had flickered up to meet his, full of vulnerability and nerves? Was it the relief of knowing that he wasn’t the only person that had replayed the startled hurt of that moment over and over again? Or was it just that he was pretty sure that that apology had been agonized over, and carefully delivered, and damn near perfect, the same way Zuko had delivered the Ideal Gas Law word for word at last year’s competition?

Whatever it was, it had caused something involuntary and immediate in Sokka to forgive him, like a muscle spasm, like a reflex. So he grabbed Zuko’s arm before he could turn. “Hey,” he said.

Zuko flinched, but accepted the contact. “Yeah?”

“Uh… thanks for saying that. And I hope things are better now,” Sokka said, meeting Zuko’s eyes, instinctively keeping his voice and facial expression as gentle as he could, this time determined for the other boy not to look away. He really did have beautiful eyes, the palest brown ringed with gold, even with one painfully squinted by the scar.

To Sokka’s shock, the barest hint of a crooked smile flickered across Zuko’s face. “They’re… not great. But better,” he said.

“Well… good,” Sokka said, wishing he had something better to say, wishing he had time to ask him questions, learn just what had made the anger in the boy boil over and splash him that day, what not great but better meant.

Suki came out of the cafeteria. “Sokka, we’re gonna head to the classroom in a sec,” she said, her voice bright and overly normal, like she was pretending that this was not a weird moment she was walking in on.

Belatedly, Sokka realized he was still holding Zuko’s arm. He dropped it. “Uh… good luck today,” he said to the other boy. “Except when you play us. Then bad luck.”

Zuko searched his face, like he was unsure how to respond.

“Joke,” clarified Sokka, hoping he didn't seem like an asshole after Zuko had made himself so vulnerable.

Zuko nodded. “Right,” he said, and smiled again, that same quirked little smile. Seeing it on Zuko’s face, caused by him, made Sokka feel like he’d earned something, something important. “Same to you, then,” he said, some of the tension gone from his shoulder. “See you soon.”

He turned away. Sokka watched him all the way back toward his team’s table, unable to believe what had just happened. All three of the Sozin girls were staring, like Zuko had just grown an extra head or something.

“Dammit, Suki, why’d you interrupt?” he asked, filling the last bottle.

“I thought I was saving you from that asshole!” she said, helping to screw the bottle tops back on.

Sokka was still reeling from the intensity of the encounter. “He just apologized for the Peasant Incident. I think… I think he might not actually be that much of an asshole.”

She wrinkled her nose, snapped her fingers in front of his face. “C’mon, dude, hardest match in a few. I don’t care if Zuko’s an angel fallen from heaven. I need you focused. You good?”

Sokka took a long sip out of his water and screwed on the top, a goofy grin spreading over his face. “I’m good,” he said, and in that moment, it really, really felt like he was.

*

After various bathroom and car trips, the Omashu team reconvened and left the cafeteria together, leaving Toph’s mom, Gyatso, and Bumi to enjoy the Panera salads she had brought them. Suki wanted to get to their classroom early to mentally prepare and, as she put it, “take ownership over the space.”

They got there with ten minutes to spare, yet somehow, the Sozin kids were already in there, sitting silently lined up in their seats on the A side of the classroom: Zuko in Seat 1, his sister in the captain’s seat. She had to be his sister, their faces were so alike if you ignored the scar on Zuko’s and the cruel smile on hers when she saw the Omashu kids filing in laughing. Then Bored Math Girl in 2, then Happy Bio Girl in 3. No alternate. Their coach, a tall man with a well-groomed moustache, was sitting in the back reading a book. (About swords, Sokka couldn’t help but notice with interest.)

Sokka and Aang had been teasing Katara more about Jet while Suki walked behind, arm in arm with Toph, but when they entered the room and saw the Sozin kids sitting, spines straight, staring straight ahead, they fell silent. Nice intimidation, Sokka thought to himself. Dammit, they should have come back from lunch earlier. “Those fuckers Art of War’ed us,” he whispered to Suki.

However, the effect was broken when Happy Bio Girl gasped. “Toph?” she said excitedly.

Toph’s head turned toward the sound. “Ty Lee?” she asked incredulously. “What! I didn’t know you did this shit!”

Ty Lee started to stand up to go say hi, but at a fierce glare from their captain, she sat back down. “It’s good to see you,” she said, a little sadly.

“Well, I can’t see you, but it’s good to hear you,” Toph said.

Katara was looking at her incredulously. “You know her?” she asked.

“Oh yeah. Small school. Ty Lee was my lab partner. Hey, is Mai there?”

Bored Math Girl leaned out of her perfect posture. “Hi, Toph,” she said, sounding as though she was greeting a tax assessor, rather than a fellow rich kid who had been kicked out of her private school for capital-S Shenanigans.

“All right, all right, that’s enough fraternizing,” said their captain.

Toph’s eyes opened a little wider as she recognized the voice, suddenly without a sassy comment. Sokka didn’t like that. Not much made Toph nervous. He saw Aang, looking at the neat row of Sozin students, wringing his hands like he did when he got a question wrong.

Nerves didn’t help anyone. He needed to lead. Co-lead. “Hey y’all, come on, bring it in,” he said. “Quick battle plan before the judge gets here.”

The five of them huddled up, ignoring the looks of the Sozin Academy kids. Sokka tried not to think about the fact that Zuko could hear him, but he still spoke in a low voice. “I know y’all are nervous. I am too,” he said. “But nervous is just a way to label physiological arousal, okay?”

“Ew, Sokka,” Toph said.

“Not like, arousal arousal, Jesus Christ Toph.” Sokka almost glanced across the room at Zuko, then checked himself. “You know what I mean. Heart pounding, hands sweating, mouth dry.”

“The sympathetic nervous system,” Katara said.

“Exactly. But those aren’t just bad things. They’re also signs of excitement. Of readiness for the attack, the hunt, like our ancestors of yesteryear.” Sokka felt himself getting carried away. He re-focused. “We can do this. Let’s get excited, friends. This is just another practice. Aang, we’ll sit you out first, try and stack Earth Science a bit.”

Aang took a deep breath and smiled. “Makes sense. Toph, I’ll bet you a milkshake I get more toss-ups than you.”

Toph grinned back, big and evil. “All right, you’re on. Plus, anyone who doesn’t get a tossup has to lick the doorknob of this classroom.”

“Toph,” said Katara. “That is such a health hazard.”

“Whatever, Mom,” said Toph. At that moment, her own mother, followed by Gyatso and Bumi, came into the classroom, and looked over in confusion at hearing the word “Mom” from Toph.

“Anything to add, co-captain?” Sokka asked, not about to jinx them again by not sticking to their battle plan routine.

“Two things,” said Suki. “One, let’s fucking do this. And two, look behind you.”

Sokka, Katara, and Aang all turned. Coming along behind Gyatso and Bumi were--

“Dad!” Katara said. “And Gran Gran!”

Sokka followed her gaze. There he was, their dad Hakoda, their mom’s mom Gran Gran in tow. He looked exhausted-- he wouldn’t have slept, yet, if he’d had time to shower and put on his nicest flannel and drive Gran Gran all the way out here. But here he was.

Sokka smiled, a huge one from somewhere deep inside, almost running over like a little kid before remembering he was an adult now. He walked quickly instead, Katara right on his heels. “I didn’t know you were coming,” he said.

Hakoda smiled, rubbing his hand across his stubbled chin. “I couldn’t miss this,” he said. “Why didn’t you invite me? Gran Gran’s had it on the calendar for weeks.”

Sokka shifted guiltily. “Well, you had work,” he mumbled.

A sad expression passed over Hakoda’s face, but it was gone in moments. Ah, the preferred method of Sokka’s entire male lineage, deflect emotional pain with jokes. “The whole point of third shift is that my kids don’t have competitions at 3AM,” he said. “Well? How’s today going?”

Sokka and Katara exchanged glances. “Pretty good,” Katara said finally. “We had kind of a bumpy ride in pool play earlier, so we need to win all the rest of our matches if we want to make nationals.”

“Well then,” Gran Gran cut in, banging her cane against the ground. “I’m glad you saved the winning for when I got here!”

Sokka grinned, feeling the kind of safe happiness he only felt when so many of the people he loved were all together under one roof. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zuko, who was staring openly at the exchange with a kind of strange, sad intensity that somehow made Sokka’s heart hurt. None of the Sozin kids had family present.

“Where’s the judge?” he heard Azula ask, her voice cross. She had a point-- there were two minutes to the match by the clock on the wall, and no judge to be seen.

As if on cue, a very tall, lanky man with long dark hair sauntered in. He was one of those former-hippie looking science teachers, with a slow and soothing voice and a necklace of little white flower charms stitched together. “Hi, everyone, I’m Mr. Chong, an Environmental Science teacher here at Ba Sing Se.”

He spoke with a long drawl that Sokka worried meant they would get through fewer questions in their allotted sixteen minutes. “Will the match begin on time?” asked Azula, her words brittle and icy.

“Sounds like you really want to get the match started, huh,” he said, as though musing on that. “All right, let’s get to it. Captains, come on up.”

Sokka looked at his dad. “Thanks for coming,” he said. “Really.”

Hakoda smiled back at Sokka (they were nearly the same height, now), and clapped him over the shoulder. “Get to it,” he said.

The Omashu team sat in their habitual seats, Aang giving Toph a fistbump before going back to sit with Gyatso. It was time for the captains to shake hands. Suki got up, posture ramrod straight, and shook the hand of--

“Azula,” she introduced herself.

“Suki,” Suki said back. “Good luck.”

“Don’t need it,” Azula responded.

Sokka raised his eyebrows. Instinctively, he glanced at Zuko, who was already looking at him. He looked away, at least having the decency to look slightly ashamed.

“All righty now, everyone,” said Mr. Chong, looking at the timer with distaste before hitting the start button. Eight minutes on the clock. “Question one, math, short answer. If the equations 2x + 8 = 4 and ax – 30 = -22 have the same solution for x, what is the value of a?”

Silence, pencils scribbling on paper. Then a buzzer, impossibly fast, from Sozin. “A2,” Mr. Chong said.

Bored Math Girl-- Mai?-- lived up to her reputation, sounding like this entire competition was beneath her as she said, “Negative four.”

“Correct,” the judge said. As he read the bonus, Sokka could feel himself sweating. It’s all right, he told himself. They had known Math was going to be a weak spot. Sozin locked in the bonus, Azula reading a long calculation from Mai’s paper.

Sokka’s heart pounded harder when the next category was Physics. He glanced at Zuko, who was staring at Mr. Chong like he was trying to predict the words that would come out of his mouth. “Toss-up, physics, short answer. The reason you are safe in your car during a lightning storm is because the body of the car forms an enclosure that blocks external electric fields. What is the name used to describe this type of enclosure?”

Sokka waited a fraction of a section too long, his mind wavering on what he remembered about lightning. Zuko’s buzzer lit up. Once he was acknowledged, he gave the answer: “Faraday cage.”

Sokka let out a breath. C’mon, no one said it’d be easy, he told himself. Still, two questions was starting to be less of a comfortable deficit already, especially when they got the bonus, Azula asking Zuko three times if he was certain before giving the judge his answer. He couldn’t help but notice that the Sozin kids didn’t discuss bonuses much-- just let their team expert decide, and pass down the line to Azula.

“Question three, Earth and Space, multiple choice.” Sokka’s hand tensed on the buzzer. For a generalist like him, Earth and Space could be anything, and he wanted to be ready. If this got too deep into Earth lore, though, it’d probably go to Toph.

“What is the term for the lowest temperature that can be attained by evaporating water into the air? W, minimum temperature. X, wind chill temperature. Y, wet bulb temperature. Z-- interrupt, B2.”

Sokka glanced over in surprise. Katara’s buzzer was lit. “Wet bulb temperature,” she said.

“That’s correct,” Mr. Chong said.

Sokka’s heart pulsed with love for his sister. “Nice one, Katara,” he whispered.

She turned and glanced at Aang, who was beaming with pride. “Thank Aang for all the climate science articles,” she whispered back.

Toph nailed the bonus, an in-depth multiple choice about which type of rock had a “shale protolith”, which definitely counted as deep Earth lore. Sokka wished they could all squish close together like they did in Bumi’s classroom so his teammates aside from Suki were within high-fiving distance.

The next toss-up was Chemistry, something about amorphous solids. No one interrupted, but Suki was beaten out at the razor’s edge by Azula, who had a genuinely wild look in her eyes. “Dang, she’s fast,” Suki breathed to Sokka while the other team worked on their bonus.

Sokka nodded. “You got it, dude, c’mon.”

Katara sniped the bio question, too, one about carcinomas. (That was a word that had made Sokka wince since their mom died.) Katara touched her necklace, but answered calm and cool as a cucumber, then worked with Suki on the bonus to distinguish between directional and stabilizing natural selection.

Sokka glanced at the round clock. Two minutes left. Not enough time. They needed more questions, more time. “Energy, short answer. When rubber is vulcanized in order to make it more durable, what element is added-- interrupt, B1.”

Sokka had buzzed before he was even conscious of it, remembering the gaseous smell of the rubber factory he and Katara drove past every morning on their way through the outlying towns into the city. “Sulfur,” he said.

“Correct. Bonus, Energy, short answer. Identify all of the following five compounds that are products of glycolysis-- 1) Pyruvate, 2) NAD+, 3) ATP, 4) H2O, 5) CO2.”

The entire team (except Toph) was busy scribbling down the names of the compounds. “God da-- uh, darn it, this is basically bio. Katara, what you got?” Sokka asked.

“Pyruvate and ATP for sure, but I missed the last couple options,” Katara said, leaning toward Suki and Sokka.

“The last two options are water and CO2,” Suki told her. This was another classic captaining move by Suki-- whenever a bonus listed options, she always paid special attention to the end, knowing that the rest of the team often got caught up on the beginning choices.

Katara bit her lip. “Water, of course, because sweat. But CO2, too?”

“Go with your gut,” Sokka told her.

Katara hesitated.

“Five seconds,” Mr. Chong said. He really did have a melodic voice. Maybe he was a singer in his spare time. It would have been pleasant if it wasn’t annoying how slowly he was reading.

“Just water,” Katara said to Suki, who somehow managed to translate that to “1, 3 and 4.”

“Correct,” said Mr. Chong. There was less than a minute now, this would be the last question of the half. “Earth and Space, multiple choice. Which of the following glacial features can result from calving? W, drumlins, X, icebergs, Y, glaciers, Z, moraines-- A3.”

“Icebergs,” said Happy Bio Girl.

Toph smacked her desk in frustration. “Should have interrupted,” she whispered. “I knew as soon as they said icebergs.” Toph was more of a “wait and listen” player, but these Sozin kids were wicked fast as soon as the question was read all the way through.

Huh. That was an interesting point. Sokka remembered Kyoshi’s captaining style, how he’d been terrified to hit the buzzer until he was absolutely certain. Maybe they were scared, too. As the Sozin team listened to the bonus question, Sokka leaned over to Suki and said quietly, “I think they’re pretty reluctant to interrupt.”

Suki’s eyes flickered back and forth as she thought back through the last several questions, then widened. “You’re so right,” she mouthed.

Sozin Academy didn’t get this bonus, which left them ahead by a mere four points. “I thought we entrusted you with Earth Science, Ty Lee,” said Azula. “I didn’t realize that I’d have to learn every subject myself for us to get these bonuses.”

Damn. No wonder those guys were scared of with a captain like that. “All right, everyone, two minutes for the half,” said Mr. Chong. “Enjoy it, theydies and gentlethem.”

“Hey, y’all, let’s huddle up,” Sokka said. “Aang, Bumi, c’mere.” When their little group was hugged close all together, he spoke quietly. “Listen, they’re good, but we’re fucking in this. They don’t want to interrupt. I’m not saying we should interrupt if we don’t know the answer-- can’t afford to give them any freebies-- but we’re gonna need to be a little bold here. Katara, you absolutely killed it that round. You simply love to see it.”

Katara gave him a glowingly proud grin. Sokka was glad his dad had been there to see her that round.

“Aang should go in,” said Toph, biting her lip. “There were already two Earth Science questions, and as much as I’m smarter and better and, I assume, prettier than Aang, he’s better with interrupts than I am.”

“That’s just ‘cause you actually listen and think,” said Aang, bumping her affectionately.

Suki nodded. “Let’s bring Aang in. Toph, great work on that shale question, not a chance any of us would have gotten that without you.”

Sokka glanced at the clock. Damn, two minutes went by quick. “Bumi, you got any advice?”

Bumi gave them all a smile, one of his crazy ones where his eyes seemed to roll around his head. “Trust the work you’ve done. Think like a mad genius if you have to think at all, but don’t think too hard. The answers are already there in long-term memory.”

Suki grinned. “Thanks, Bumi,” she said. “C’mon, gang. Back to our seats.”

Heart pounding, Sokka sat back down, just as Zuko returned to his seat. Since they were both in the 1 seat, they were next to one another, separated by mere feet. Sokka could have reached out and touched him. He could practically feel the nerves radiating off the other boy.

“All right, all right, let’s get back to this,” said Mr. Chong, and without preamble, reset the timer. “Question nine, Energy, multiple choice. Which of the following statements about coal is true? W, over 50% of the coal mined in the United States is bituminous. X, lignite has the highest-- interrupt, B3.”

Aang waited an extra second, realized he’d been acknowledged, checked himself. “W,” he said.

“Correct. Bonus, short answer. A water heater uses 4 kilowatts of electricity for 8 hours. To the nearest cent, how much does it cost to operate if the cost of electricity in your area is 10 cents per kilowatt hour?”

Long silence as everyone on the Omashu team scribbled calculations. Sokka’s brain went into overdrive, knowing that while Aang knew the most about energy, he and Suki were the team’s best bet on math.

“Five seconds,” Mr. Chong said.

“Three twenty?” Suki asked Sokka.

He glanced at his calculations and where they were going. “Three twenty,” he replied.

“Three twenty,” Suki repeated to Mr. Chong, bringing them into the lead. Sokka couldn’t stop glancing at the clock. Focus, Sokka.

“Next question. Math, multiple choice. Which of the following is not an even function? W, cosine of x. X, cosine of x squared. Y, sin of x. Z-- interrupt, A2.”

“Y,” said Mai, who might have been asking “Y am I here? Y are any of us here?” for all the boredom in her voice. Apparently at least Mai wasn’t scared of Azula’s wrath, at least not enough to lose confidence on interrupting.

They got the bonus, too. Sokka drummed his pencil against the table, watching the clock as they ran through it.

“Chemistry, multiple choice. Which of the following acts as a Lewis acid in the presence of water to form carbonic acid?--- interrupt, B Captain.”

Sokka swung his gaze toward at Suki, whose buzzer light was glowing red. It was hugely risky to interrupt that early on a multiple choice, before even hearing any of the options and how they’d be framed and phrased.

Suki stared straight ahead. Voice steely, she said, “Carbon dioxide.”

“That’s correct,” said the judge.

Sokka almost broke the swearing rule. “Suki, you absolute mad lad,” he whispered, pounding her on the shoulder.

She grinned as Mr. Chong read off the bonus-- a short answer, about acid base reactions. “Double displacement,” she said, without bothering to consult the team. It was good to see her flex a little.

Sokka kept score in the corner of his paper as the teams fought. Time was running out, and it was close, so close, as the teams alternated, hurling physics formulae and bio terminology at one another.

“Toss-up, Physics, short answer. Name the three metals that generally comprise ferromagnetic-- Interrupt, B1.”

Sokka prayed to every science god he knew that he was right about where this question was going. He’d interrupted to beat Zuko. “Nickel, iron, and…” Oh God, was he blanking? Was he blanking? Nope, there it was, in long-term memory storage like Bumi said. “Cobalt.”

“Correct.”

Sokka added to the score on his paper as they worked through the bonus and got it, too. Tighter still. He glanced at the clock. Less than a minute. The next question would be the last, and unless he’d missed a question somewhere in there, Sozin was up, but only by a bonus. They needed to beat Sozin to the question, and not only that, but get the bonus too. He readied his fingers over the buzzer, heart pounding in his ears.

“Toss-up, Biology, short answer, What form of transport across membranes is mediated by channel proteins and requires no-- interrupt, A Captain.”

Sokka hung his head. Shit. Shit. Not bold enough. They’d lost.

“Simple diffusion,” said Azula.

Mr. Chong squinted at the sheet. “I’m sorry, that’s incorrect. Interrupt penalty.”

Sokka looked back up, eyes wide. Holy shit. “I’ll re-read. What form of transport across membranes is mediated by channel proteins and requires no input of energy?”

Katara’s buzzer lit up. She waited calmly to be acknowledged. “Facilitated diffusion,” she said.

Fuck yes, Katara, Sokka thought, keeping himself from swearing out loud. He crossed his fingers for an easy bonus. “Bonus, biology, multiple choice,” Mr. Chong said. “In which of the following female cervids would you find antlers? W, reindeer. X, okapi. Y, mule deer. Z, moose.”

They were all silent for a long moment. “Well, I have no idea,” said Katara.

“Okay, let’s think this through,” said Suki. “It’s not moose.”

“It’s not okapi,” Aang said. “I petted one at a zoo, once, and she didn’t have horns.”

Sokka looked around at his teammates. “Have…. have you ever seen a reindeer without horns?”

“Well, no, but I’ve never even heard of a mule deer,” Katara said.

“I mean, come on, some of Santa’s reindeer names are pretty girly,” Sokka said. “Cupid? Vixen? And they all had horns in that picture book we had growing up.”

“Five seconds,” Mr. Chong said.

Suki looked at Sokka. “Really? That’s your logic?”

“Best guess, Suki,” he said.

“Reindeer,” she said, turning back to Mr. Chong.

“That’s correct,” he said. “Huh, look at that. End of round.”

Sokka didn’t even hear what he said next, he was so busy leaning over in his chair to grab Suki and Katara in the biggest hug he could manage, his arms not quite reaching all the way over here. “Aang! Toph! Get in here!”

A mess of chairs and flailing limbs, they hugged. They’d done it-- they’d beaten Sozin, on their own terms, as a team. Their families (well, mostly) had been there to see it, crowding in to discuss the match, even Toph’s mom giving Gyatso an awkward little side hug. Sokka couldn’t stop smiling.

At least, not till Suki forcibly removed his arms (she had a match scoresheet to sign) and he glanced over at the Sozin kids.

Azula was castigating Ty Lee for not having buzzed in on that last Bio question, even though, frankly to Sokka, that had been quite a risky interrupt. Formerly Happy Bio Girl’s eyes pooled with tears. Mai’s expression hadn’t changed a bit, though her jaw tightened as she watched Azula leave Ty Lee alone and stalk off to sign the scoresheet.

He looked at Zuko, whose hands were shoved in his pockets as he watched his teammates fall apart.

Well, that was demoralizing.

Suki, flushed with victory, came back over with her scoresheet. “All right, y’all. Nice work. C’mon, we’re switching rooms. Ba Sing Se next.”

“I’ll take the scoresheet, Suki,” Sokka said, needing to let off some steam. He walked to the cafeteria, his heart pounding as he reflected on the match. When he got there, he looked at the bracket, hardly daring to hope.

More good news: Ba Sing Se had eked out a victory against Foggy Swamp. That meant at least every team had one L on the board. They were in this, really in this, for nationals.

“Uh, hi again,” said a voice behind him. There was Zuko, dropping off his team’s copy of the scoresheet.

“Hey, nice game,” Sokka said back, his heart suddenly pounding again like he was ready on the buzzer. “It was a tight one.”

Zuko shrugged. “You guys pulled it out.” He dropped the scoresheet on the pile and turned away.

Sokka didn’t want the conversation to end there. He needed to know more. Maybe that was why Zuko kept reminding him of Yue. Every time Sokka talked to him, the boy’s mannerisms, his reluctant eye contact and tight posture, suggested someone struggling, scared even, and desperate to hide it. Sokka wanted to know just what was going on.

Plus, he was pretty fucking attractive, with his messy hair contrasting his clean uniform.

Still, all Sokka had to offer him was Science Bowl. “Hey, y’all have Foggy Swamp next, right? Don’t sleep on them, they’re pretty good on bio and earth, and definitely not scared to take risks.”

Zuko turned back. “Thanks,” he said. “Ba Sing Se wasn’t bad, but if you guys are as good on interrupts against them as you were against us, it’ll be no problem.”

He turned and walked away. Sokka let him. If he’d just been beaten, he might not want to talk either.

Still, he watched him walk away, and wondered.

*

After the tension and excitement of their Sozin match, the round against Ba Sing Se High felt like a walk in the park. Zuko was right-- Ba Sing Se was solid. They’d beaten Foggy Swamp in a nailbiter, after all. But it wasn’t enough for them. Sokka didn’t know if it was just that Omashu had gotten some swagger back after defeating the reigning champs, or if it was just that Toph, determined to prove herself and also determined to not to have to lick a doorknob, went absolutely off got no less than four toss-ups.

Whatever it was, they sliced through the Ba Sing Se more smoothly than a drill through drywall. With the final question locked in (Sokka had gotten that one, no big deal, by correctly logicking out how many light-years Proxima Centurai was from the sun), they had cemented their spot at nationals-- with Ba Sing Se now at two losses, and one of Foggy Swamp or Sozin about to accrue a second loss, they’d be tied at the top with their 6-1 record.

Sokka explained all of this to the parents excitedly as they walked back to the cafeteria for the awards ceremony. Gran Gran had been incredibly taken with the experience of Science Bowl, already offering tips and tricks to the team as though this wasn’t a world she had entered into about an hour ago. (“Now, it seemed like you all need to work on your math. And sit up straight, you could take a lesson from those Sozin kids. You’ll need to practice more before nationals.”)

Once they were there, Sokka immediately scanned the room for Sozin Academy’s blazers. From the fact that Ty Lee and even Azula were smiling-- not to mention the fact that the Foggy Swamp guys were missing entirely, perhaps having ditched the competition altogether-- Sokka thought they might have won. His mind started racing, the way it did when he had an idea that was really good, or really bad.

“All right, it’s been a long, long day,” said Vice Principal Bosco. “After eight rounds and Thank God no tiebreakers, let’s get our winners up here. Reigning champs Sozin Academy, and then this year’s other nationals qualifier, Omashu Regional Magnet School!”

Even with the high of winning, of standing up at the front of the room with his friends and the Sozin team to receive awkward “Ba Sing Se High School” mugs as trophies with the bear mascot on the back-- apparently, Vice Principal Bosco hadn’t thought to get two trophies--Sokka couldn’t stop thinking of his seed of a plan.

After there had been some half-hearted clapping and one standing ovation from Bumi, the crowd started to disperse. There it was-- his chance. Sokka leaned toward the Sozin kids. This might be his last opportunity to talk to them for a while. He had to seize it. “Hey, Sozin peeps,” he said.

Zuko turned right away. Azula glanced at him incredulously, like she was shocked he’d deem to listen to an Omashu kid, then turned toward Sokka herself.

“Listen,” said Sokka. “We’re, uh, we’re having a party tonight to celebrate. You all want to come? You made natties too.”

He wasn’t sure who looked more startled-- the Sozin kids or his own teammates. Katara in particular looked ready to murder him.

“Uh, maybe,” Zuko said back, his neck and face flushing red.

“Can I get your number? You can come if you want, I’ll send you the deets.” He handed Zuko his phone. Sokka didn’t even care that the rest of the room could probably see this going down. No one was paying attention-- it was three PM and everyone was exhausted and hangry, getting ready to leave. All he cared was that this wasn’t the last time he saw Zuko. Nationals wasn’t for a few weeks, and it was a huge competition-- who even knew if he’d see Zuko there.

Glancing at his sister, who was watching this entire situation go down with an incredulous look on her face, he punched his number into Sokka’s phone. “Yeah, just uh… just text me.”

Despite his sweaty hands, Sokka tried to play it cool. “Will do,” he said, then turned to his team. “Hey champs, c’mon, let’s find our families and go get the fuck home.”

Suki raised her eyebrows as Aang and Toph giggled. “Right,” she said, in a tone of voice that let Sokka know he would be teased, without mercy or relent, the entire way home. “Champs indeed. Let’s get the hell out of Ba Sing Se.”

Chapter Text

sokka: hey it’s sokka (ur science bowl nemesis)
sokka: party deets, we’re gonna hang at my sister’s bf’s house with a bunch of people, probably like 8
sokka: https://goo.gl/maps/Xj627j6hDJ4usttv9

zuko: Hey, thanks.
zuko: I think we’re going to come. Should we bring anything?

sokka: just urselves
sokka: ;)

“You really added the winky face, Sokka? My God.” Suki threw Sokka’s phone back to him. “No wonder he left you on read.”

It was dark and everyone was full to bursting. The whole team was all slumped into Sokka and Katara’s cramped living room, sunk halfway into the old couch or lazing on the floor or, in Aang’s case, up and drying dinner dishes while Gran Gran washed.

“C’mon, like you’re some kind of… texting your nemesis expert?” Sokka asked. “I think it was bold and brash.”

“Nope, I’m with Fangirl on this one. Weird,” Toph said from where she was lying on the floor, legs kicked up toward the couch.

Katara was texting furiously, conjuring up a party out of nothing. “Are you sure he’s still your nemesis?” she asked without looking up. “Seems like you’re feeling awfully friendly with a guy that’s been a real dick to you. Not to mention his whole team being dicks.”

“Sokka has a real weakness for brooding types,” Suki said. “He can’t help it.”

Sokka sighed, looking at the text exchange for probably the hundredth time. “Please save me from myself,” he said, dropping his phone on the scuffed coffee table and flopping back on the couch.

After the end of the competition, nobody had wanted to say goodbye. Toph had begged her mom to let her stay out with the team. “Please, Mom,” she said. “It’s Saturday. We’re just going to hang out together and celebrate. Can I stay out till, let’s see... midnight?”

Mrs. Beifong had balked at that. But seeing Hakoda and Gran Gran there, the presence of all the adults, seemed to soothe her a bit. “Ten thirty,” she had told her daughter.

It was something. So the adults had driven home in their various cars while the team piled into Sokka’s truck and drove the hour back from Ba Sing Se, through the Omashu town center, and all the way back out to the port where Katara and Sokka lived. The drive home had consisted of three phases:

1. Yelling and screaming about making nationals (this was Sokka’s favorite part, and was scored by Suki’s “TRIUMPH!!!!!!!” playlist)

2. Making fun of Sokka and his sudden emotional U-turn surrounding Zuko (this was Sokka’s least favorite part, but his friends weren’t wrong)

3. Everyone except Sokka falling asleep (this was scored by Suki’s “shit sokka likes” playlist, which she switched on as she mumbled “I’m just going to close my eyes for five minutes, wake me up if you’re gonna fall asleep behind the wheel.”)

The rest of the way home was just Sokka and his truck (and the sounds of Toph snoring gently in the back, snuggled between Katara and Aang). He relied on his adrenaline from the day’s victories and encounters with Zuko to keep himself awake as he drove.

Gran Gran and Hakoda beat them back to the house by fifteen minutes. Sokka needed to learn what tricks and shortcuts his dad used for beating the lights and the traffic that cropped up in Omashu. But it meant that when they walked in, Gran Gran already had clams boiling in the stock pot to open their shells for chowder, hake filleted on the counter for a celebratory fish fry, and potatoes ready to be chopped and roasted “for that friend of yours who thinks fish are meat.”

Everyone had chipped in while Hakoda took a post/pre-work nap, chopping and oiling and stirring and spicing. Even Toph, despite her blindness and clear lack of chore experience, set the table and provided commentary on the sounds and smells of the kitchen. Sokka’s heart felt full to bursting. He had dropped his texts to Zuko then put his phone down to bread the hake, a messy job. He was glad for the distraction (though he regretted the winky face the moment he sent it.)

Over dinner, he casually dropped that they’d be going to a party later. Hakoda had pointed his spoon, loaded with chowder, at Sokka. “This is the kind of party that you will get Toph home from, safely and on time, without any problems, right, son?”

Sokka nodded. “Of course.” His dad was pretty good about not asking questions he didn’t want too much information about.

Hakoda had glanced at Katara and Suki. “Make triply sure,” he said. “I’m scared of Mrs. Beifong.”

“She’s not so bad,” Toph said. “Just overprotective. Also, don’t ever get in a legal battle with her.”

And now, here they were, Hakoda up in his bedroom snatching a few more precious hours of sleep before work, the rest of them relaxing after the stress of the competition and the full warmth of the meal.

Well, some of them were relaxing. Katara was still in party-planning mode. She glanced over her shoulder at Gran Gran, but the sink was running loudly and she was deep in conversation with Aang about some old friends of hers, and their grandmother was partially deaf anyway. “Okay, Jet’s got some beer and Longshot and Pipsqueak are going to bring some, too. Song and her friends will be over in a bit, and I think the rest of the Freedom Fighters are coming over later, like nine.”

This was what Jet called his crew of friends, who pretended to be super into anarchy and anti-fascism but mainly just hung around and smoked weed and refused to answer to anything except their nickname and read the same Bukowski book over and over. Every once in a while they’d tag the back of the fishery or break a window at the half-finished subdevelopment they were building out near the nicer part of the shore, but mostly they just had pretentious conversations and acted like they were better than everyone else because they weren’t into society, man.

Sokka didn’t mind any of them as individuals, honestly, except Jet, who always talked to Katara like he was so much smarter than her. As a group, they could get pretty annoying-- but Jet’s folks were out of town a lot, and Smellerbee had a weed connection, and Pipsqueak had a fake ID (and had been blessed with a full beard at sixteen and looked fully grown anyway). So they were pretty much the only ones at Omashu Magnet throwing any kind of party out here at the port. Everyone who lived out here and went into the city for school came through Jet’s house some time or another.

Sokka had spent more than a few late nights there himself, getting into deep half-baked philosophical discussions with Suki and Longshot (who didn’t talk much, but when he did, usually blew Sokka’s mind), or every once in a while, finding someone to smooch a little. It was casual, fun, a way to pass the time.

It was weird to imagine Zuko in that setting. Sokka’s stomach twisted. Throwing in people from a fancy boarding school? That was… an untested dynamic. What had he been thinking?

Katara’s phone rang, a selfie of her kissing Jet on the cheek popping up on the screen. “Hi, baby,” she said, smiling into the phone.

Sokka rolled his eyes. He hated the voice Katara used with Jet. His sister was strong-willed and brave and really fucking smart, and he had no idea why she affected this schoolgirl lilt around him.

Her face tightened as she listened to him on the other end. “Okay, so-- okay. Sorry. Yeah, we’ll be over in a sec.”

She put her phone down and turned to Sokka. “Well,” she said. No lilting voice when she talked to her brother, just irritation. “Your guests have arrived. And they’re there with Jet. Just Jet.”

Sokka glanced at his own phone. It was 7:58. “What the hell,” he said. “I told Zuko 8ish. That means like, 8:30 earliest.”

“Maybe party norms are different at Sozin,” said Aang from the kitchen. “Gran Gran, where does this baking dish go?”

“Party norms aren’t different at Sozin. Look, Sokka. Here’s what you have to understand about the people you invited tonight,” Toph said, swinging her legs down from the couch and sitting up. “Zuko and Azula are not cool kids. They’re powerful kids, for sure, they’re like, triple legacy and their family donated half the buildings to the school. But they are fucking intense. Mai rolls with them because their dad is a huge donor to her dad’s campaign. Ty Lee rolls with them because…” Toph paused. “Actually, I’m not sure why she rolls with them. Might just be because they are like… rich rich. Like, makes my family look like Charlie Bucket rich.”

Sometimes Sokka forgot what a different world Toph was from. He looked around the living room, for a moment seeing its shabbiness, its sagginess, instead of the comforting warmth of the wood-burning fireplace, the smells of dinner still lingering in the air, the comfort of lying on the old Oriental rug that had been their mom’s prized possession. “Damn,” he said. “That’s kind of messed up.”

Katara stood up. “Okay, well, we need to go over there now. Jet’s pissed.”

Aang gave Gran Gran a hug. “Thanks for dinner,” he said, though he hadn’t been able to eat anything except the potatoes, because Gran Gran was of a generation that didn’t totally understand the concept of vegetarianism, especially with fish.

Gran Gran kissed him on the cheek. Sokka wasn’t sure if it was all his time with the monks or if it was just that he was an old soul, but Aang had a real way with old folks. “Keep Katara out of trouble,” she said.

“Gran Gran, it’s just a party, we’ll be just a few blocks away,” Katara said. “Call if you need anything, okay?”

Gran Gran looked around, her nose wrinkling. “What would I need? I’m going to watch Family Feud and then go right to sleep.”

Sokka hadn’t gotten a car nap like everyone else. He would have felt jealous of Gran Gran’s plans-- they watched Family Feud together on the reg-- if he wasn’t so wired with nerves and excitement. “All right, let’s go rescue Jet from our Science Bowl co-champions,” he said, standing up and stretching.

“More like rescue our co-champions from Jet,” Toph mumbled under her breath.

Sokka grinned, helped her to her feet. “I knew I liked you.”

“I heard that, Toph!” Katara called from their downstairs bathroom, where she was hastily touching up her makeup. She had already swapped her prim Science Bowl outfit for jeans and a bright shirt with shoulder cutouts that was in no way weather appropriate.

Suki snapped her fan shut, tucked it in her back pocket, and adjusted her glasses. “Let’s boogie,” she said.

They all put on coats, mostly leaving hats and mittens behind. It was a short walk, and those small bits of clothing often tended to get lost in the coat pile at this kind of party. “Toph, you’ve been to these shindigs before, right?” Suki asked, her sighted guide for the current walk.

“Once this fall when I snuck out. My problem today was that I was already out,” Toph said, blowing her hair out of her face. “I should have just gone home with my mom, “gone to bed” early, and met up with all y’all. Then I wouldn’t have had to deal with this curfew shit.”

Aang, who had been gathering old, icy snow from the drifts along the side of the road to form a snowball, caught back up to them. “Toph, are we gonna run back our beer pong supremacy?”

“Let’s do it, Twinkle Toes,” Toph said, holding her hand out for a fist bump in his general direction. He bumped it back, then beaned Sokka with his ice ball.

“I will end you, Aang! Monk or not!” Sokka said, running to the side of the road to make an ice ball of his own, but not before Katara had conjured one seemingly out of nowhere and smashed it into his face, point-blank range. No prisoners.

So that was how they showed up on Jet’s doorstep, with faces flushed from laughter and warfare and Sokka picking ice particles out of his wolftail. Katara pounded on the door, texting as well for good measure.

Jet opened the door up, his omnipresent vape in his hand. “Finally,” he said, then glanced toward Katara. “Hey, girl,” he said.

“Hi, Jet,” she said, flushing, in her Jet voice. They’d been together for, what, three months? It already felt like way too long.

Sokka rolled his eyes. “Hi, Jet,” he said, mimicking her affectation, then shouldered past him. Whatever. He dropped his last twenty from shoveling sidewalks in the jar that Jet used at these shindigs to collect beer money (half a tank of gas, his brain supplied unhelpfully). He wasn’t going to drink anything tonight, given that he was driving Toph home soon, but he figured that would at least even the playing field after throwing four more people into the mix, and cover anyone on his team who wanted to play beer pong and drink Jet’s PBR and Natty Light.

There, in Jet’s living room, was the Sozin Academy Science Bowl team. Azula sat in the armchair, legs crossed at the ankles, in a red turtleneck and jeans that probably cost more than Sokka’s entire wardrobe. Zuko and Mai sat on opposite sides of the couch, staring at their phones. And Ty Lee, dressed in some kind of pink jumpsuit thing, was on the floor, doing some kind of stretchy yoga pose that made Sokka do a double take.

“Long time no see, y’all,” said Sokka to the guests. “You don’t waste much time, do you?”

“Azula, I told you, there’s a concept of fashionable lateness,” whispered Ty Lee, untwisting herself into a much more normal seated position.

“We are the perfect party guests,” Azula said. “We arrive right on time because we are very... punctual.”

“Damn straight,” said Sokka. “No worries. Early party is good party.”

The rest of his friends were busy de-jacketing. “All right, we need some music.” said Suki, cutting a beeline toward the aux cable on Jet’s parent’s speakers. “Hey, anyone have anything they wanna listen to?” she asked of the Sozin kids as she plugged in her phone.

It was as though she’d asked them a Science Bowl question. Mai ignored her, continuing to scroll through her phone. Ty Lee almost said something, but then glanced at Azula, and swallowed her words. Azula’s face looked like she was attempting to calculate the perfect answer, something that would convey coolness without too much effort.

And Zuko met Sokka’s eyes, then looked away, awkwardly.

“You know what, I’m gonna put on my “just vibin” playlist for now,” said Suki, after a silence that went on a few seconds too long. Chill eighties hip-hop, fun but not too loud, perfect for these sensitive Sozins. Sokka had to hand it to her, she could set the mood.

Jet and Katara, who had been kissing on the porch as though they hadn’t just seen each other yesterday (ugh), came in. Jet saw the twenty in the jar and nodded at Sokka. At least there was that. “Beer’s in the usual spot. People’ll be over in a bit,” he said, grabbing a few beers and leading Katara across the room by the hand toward the stairs.

Sokka grimaced. “What, you’re not going to stay and socialize?” he called after them.

“We’ll be down in a bit!” Katara called. Double ugh.

“All right, who’s gonna play me and Aang in beer pong?” Toph asked. Aang was already going into the cabinets, grabbing cups and shitty beer. Sokka smiled. At least there was that-- he could always count on his team to bring the fun. Even in bizarre situations like this one.

Ty Lee pushed herself up. “Ooh! I’ll play!” she said. “Mai?”

Mai shook her head. “I plead politician’s kid.”

“Zuko?” Ty Lee asked.

He held up his car keys. “Designated driver,” he said in his gravely voice.

“Oh, you don’t have to drink,” Aang said. “I don’t drink either. That’s how we play-- I shoot, Toph drinks.” They high fived each other, Toph raising her hand and trusting Aang would hit it eventually.

Zuko looked at the table, then hunched over, his arms across his chest. “I’m good,” he said.

“Azula? You in?” Ty Lee asked, with a barely perceptible hesitation.

Azula sighed. “Oh, all right. You know me, never back down from a challenge.” She stood up and walked to the table.

While Toph explained the rules and Aang filled cups, Sokka took the opportunity to sit on the coffee table, facing Zuko and Mai on the couch. “I’m DD tonight too,” he said. “Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

“Well, I’m not,” Suki said, grabbing a beer and joining them. “All right, who’s taking bets? My money’s on Aang and Toph. The one drinker, one shooter method is pretty ingenious.”

“I dunno,” Sokka said. “If there’s one thing we know about Sozin Academy, it’s that they’re damn good at winning stuff.”

They glanced at their companions on the couch. Come on, you can do it, Sokka thought. Fly little birdies, have normal social interactions, participate in conversations. We won’t bite.

“I’ll withhold judgment until I see Aang shoot,” said Mai.

Zuko let out a short exhale that might have been a laugh. It felt like some of the tension had been broken. “I’ve yet to see a competition that Azula loses… but this one could be it.”

“Have a little faith in me, Zuzu,” Azula called from the dining room table. With their cups arranged on the table and Aang adding in small pours of beer, Azula took a test shot. The Ping Pong ball sailed wide, missing the table entirely. It bounced away, rolling under the countertop.

“All right, dibs on Aang and Toph,” Mai said.

They watched the game get started. Sokka couldn’t help but notice Suki eying Mai, fiddling with her fan. If there was one thing he knew about her fixation on Kyoshi, it was that she liked girls that were equal parts brilliant and emotionless. “So, Mai,” he said. “How’d you get so good at math?”

She let out a heavy sigh. Sokka couldn’t get a good read on if she was serious, or so deadpan it hurt. “Maybe you’re just bad at math,” she said, expression unchanging.

Sokka was maybe sixty percent sure she was joking. Harder to tell than Bumi, even. He glanced at Zuko. “Don’t worry,” the other boy said. “This is why we don’t usually bring her to parties.”

“As if you go to parties,” Mai said back, looking back down at her phone.

Yeah, definitely Suki’s type. “Hey,” Sokka said, turning toward Zuko. “I’ve been meaning to say, my bad for like, dumping iced coffee all over the floor while you were working the other day.”

“We can’t take him anywhere, either,” Suki said to Zuko, gesturing toward Sokka.

Zuko smiled. “It’s all right,” he said. “Although I’m not going to lie, my uncle thought it was hilarious.”

Sokka cocked his head to the side. “Do you… usually tell your uncle about all the dumb shit customers do?”

“Oh!” Zuko flushed. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, but Sokka really, really wanted to tousle his messy mop of hair. “He owns the Jasmine Dragon. I just pick up shifts there when he’s short.”

“Wait,” Toph called from across the room. Girl had hearing like a bat. She downed the cup of beer that Aang handed her as Ty Lee sank a shot. (God, Sokka hoped Aang hadn’t filled the cups more than an inch.) “Iroh’s your uncle?”

Zuko perked up. “Yeah, you know him?”

“Hell yes. He’s chill as fuck.” She slammed the cup back onto the table. “All right, Zuko can stay, on the condition he brings his uncle to hang out sometimes. Aang, make this shot.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Aang said, and arced a perfect sink into Ty Lee and Azula’s center cup. They were starting to run out of cups.

Azula downed her beer, then got ready to shoot, carefully wiping the ball on the paper towel she must’ve procured at some point from the counter.

“Here, try and give it a little arc,” Aang said to her. He demonstrated exaggeratedly with his hands.

She narrowed her eyes a little, but tried it. This time, she sank one of the edge cups. “Hey!” she said, for one moment, forgetting to look intimidating. Ty Lee grinned and gave her a hug.

“Well, look at all of us just getting along,” Sokka said.

The front door burst open, pushing in a blast of cold air. In came Longshot and Pipsqueak, a rack of PBR under Pipsqueak’s meaty arms. “What’s up, party people,” he said in his deep voice. Longshot said nothing, but lifted his head in the smallest of “hello” gestures.

“Where’re Smellerbee and the Duke?” Suki asked, taking a long drink of beer.

“Stopped to meet Smellerbee’s weed connection. They’ll be here in a minute. Where’s Jet?”

“Upstairs with Katara,” Suki said.

The beer pong match was heating up now. Aang and Toph had three cups left, Azula and Ty Lee had one. “Toph, celebrity shot,” said Aang, handing her the ball.

“Yeet,” Toph said, and pitched the ball wildly. It bounced off a kitchen cabinet, the refrigerator, and then somehow, in the kind of luck and charm that only Toph Beifong had in this life, sunk into the cup.

Aang and Ty Lee both screamed, Pipsqueak letting out a long and sustained yell. “I am so glad we got here in time for that,” he said hoarsely.

Footsteps on the stairs, Jet. “What the hell, you guys,” he called down from upstairs. “Way too early in the evening for the police to get called.”

At that, Mai stiffened a bit. Suki noticed, put one hand on her knee, the only body part within reach. “It’s cool,” she said. “The neighbors are pretty chill around here. It’s really just if people are dicking around outside that they get annoyed, and it’s way too cold for that.”

Mai nodded. She looked at Suki’s fan. “What is that?” she asked, for the first time looking a little curious.

Suki glanced at Sokka. He raised one eyebrow. “Just a fan,” she said, putting it down on the table behind her. “Lucky little fan.”

Aang and Toph were already re-racking cups. “Should we play quarters or something Pipsqueak and Longshot can join in on?” Aang asked.

“I want a rematch,” Azula said, her face a little flushed from the beer. “I’m just getting the hang of this. Best two out of three.”

“I’m cool, we’re prolly gonna play Mario Kart when Smellerbee ‘n the Duke get here,” said Pipsqueak.

Speak of the devil. The door opened, the cold wind blew in, the door shut.“The cabbage merchant was good to me today, friends,” said Smellerbee, holding up a dime bag as they walked in, followed by the Duke, Song, and several of Song's sophomore friends. “Hey, who are all these people?” Smellerbee asked.

“Sokka’s Sozin friends,” said Pipsqueak, which was probably how Katara had pitched it in the group text.

“Sokka’s Sozin enemies,” said Toph, rubbing her hands together. “C’mon, Aang, we got this.”

“All right, the first one was a practice round,” said Aang.

“Don’t pity us,” Azula said. “Ty Lee, let’s get this one. They were weak on the edges, perhaps we can exploit that by re-racking.”

Smellerbee scooched Suki off the coffee table. They took out papers, licked the edge, and started rolling a joint. Suki took this opportunity to sit down between Mai and Zuko on the couch.

“Yo, we gotta get some different music,” The Duke said. He unplugged Suki’s phone from the speakers, replacing “just vibin” with the same fucking dubstep playlist he always played at these parties. Sokka didn’t hate it, but after four years he was pretty tired of it-- and it definitely did not fit the mood he was trying to strike.

He looked at Zuko, whose brain appeared to be melting in the face of all these new people and the throbbing baseline of the new music. “Wanna get some air?” Sokka asked him, shouting over the music.

Zuko nodded. Sokka gave him his hand and pulled him up to his feet. They left, grabbing coats out of the pile. Suki and Mai watched their idiots depart with equal expressions of raised eyebrows, but the Omashu vs Sozin beer pong battlefield raged along undeterred.

The air outside was cold, but not bitingly so. It was milder than it had been all week. Well, at least climate change had some benefits, and the temperature being forty degrees in February in New England was one of them. Zuko put his hands in the pocket of his peacoat, visibly relaxing as they left the loud music and crowded room. “Wow,” he said. “I haven’t actually ever been to like... a high school party like in the movies. With beer pong and stuff.”

Sokka’s face broke into a smile as he zipped up his lucky jacket. “You must be watching boring movies,” he said. “All that’s gonna happen here is that Aang’s going to win again at beer pong, some people will smoke weed and play Mario Kart in the attic, Jet will be a dick to my sister, and Suki and the Duke will get into a shouting match over what music to play.”

Zuko glanced back in the front window. On the couch, Suki leaned in and whispered something-- Sokka couldn’t tell what, he was no lip reader, but to his utter and total complete fucking shock, Mai laughed. Go get her, Suki, he thought. He hadn’t seen her so much as flirt in years. “Should we walk?” asked Sokka.

“Walk where?” Zuko asked.

Sokka smiled. “I’ll show you.”

Zuko glanced behind him at the house, took a long breath, and then smiled at Sokka. “Let’s go.”

After seeing how lacking in fun his life seemed to be, every smile Sokka got out of Zuko made him feel like he’d won a fucking medal. And having Zuko’s trust to take him somewhere… that was more than a medal. That was a trophy. Or in today’s case, a mug with the Ba Sing Se Bear on it.

Jet lived so close that their usual beach was nearby. As they walked through the chilly, clear night, hands in pockets, the quiet night air a relief after the blaring dubstep, Sokka let out a long breath. “Soooo…” he said, drawing out the vowels. “How was your day?”

Zuko laughed, a short one. “Same as yours, I think. Science and stress.”

“Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask. Why aren’t you captaining again this year? You’re a senior,” Sokka said.

Zuko sighed. “I don’t want to compete with Azula. It was easier to just let her have it.”

Sokka snorted. “That’s dumb. No one’s faster than you on E&M. I should know, I’ve had to play you for four years.” He bumped Zuko with his shoulder, testing the waters.

“She might be,” Zuko said. He seemed to be getting more used to Sokka’s touchy-feeliness. “She’s a machine. A genius. I’m just regular smart.”

“Could have fooled me,” Sokka said. It was strange how natural their conversation felt, like they were old friends. Or enemies, he supposed. Not anymore.

“Well, what about you?” Zuko asked. “You’re a senior.”

“Ahem, I’m a co-captain,” Sokka said, guiding them down into an alleyway that would cut them through to the beach. “I handle team strategy. Even if, you know, Suki is the one in the captain’s seat.”

“I think that’s-- hey, wait a second.” Zuko stopped. “Are you about to murder me?”

Sokka looked around. “Right… dark alleyway… creepy. My bad,” he said. “Here, trust me, we’re almost there.”

They ducked under the old wire fence that all the wire had come off of, went around back of Bato’s shed, pushed through the dead winter sea grass, and-- there. The quickest route to the little beach. Fish smell and all.

Suddenly, Sokka was apprehensive. Where the hell had this dumb idea come from? Here he was, bringing this rich kid out through an alleyway to the rocky, fishy little beach in his rundown part of town. Yeah, you could see the ocean and the moon, but you could also see the factory and the cannery and cargo ships, a little too close for comfort. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it if this just confirmed the fucking peasant vibe that he apparently gave off to the Sozin kids.

(Whoops, apparently even though he’d consciously decided to let bygones be bygones, that insult was still there rolling around in the old brain. Great.)

But Zuko stopped where he was. “Whoa,” he said softly. “I didn’t know you guys lived so close to the ocean.”

Sokka stood back, trying to see it through Zuko’s eyes. At least the moon was full tonight, the wind chilly but light, the tide a little higher than when he was here last night. Thanks for being a bro, moon. “Yeah,” he said. “Well, me and Katara do. The rest are kinda scattered all around Omashu.”

“It’s really nice,” Zuko said, sitting down on the flat sitting rock, the one where Katara had been perched just last night.

Sokka felt something defensive inside him unclench a little. “I’m glad you like it.”

He grabbed a few rocks, as per usual. Sometimes it was just easier to talk with a handful of rocks in his hand. “Why don’t you guys have an alternate?” he asked, going back to the safety of their shared nerdy pursuit as a topic.

Zuko snorted. “Look, you already beat us. What is this, a Science Bowl strategy critique?”

“No, I-- no. Sorry. I just…” Sokka sighed, skipping a rock. Three bounces, measly. “You guys are really frickin’ good. Today could have gone either way. It just kind of surprises me how good you all are without a fifth.”

Zuko nodded, his face untightening a little. “I mean, the truth is it’s because none of us want to sub out,” he admitted, his face hard to read even in the moonlight. “I think it’s… really nice how you all help each other and sub out and stuff. We’ve never done that. That’s what I was going to say before, I liked how you and Suki split up the responsibilities like that.”

Sokka skipped another rock. Better, a solid six skips. “Thanks,” he said. “That means a lot, we work hard at it.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Zuko asked abruptly.

“Suki?” Sokka asked, laughing, turning back toward Zuko. Was he reading this right? Well, this wasn’t his first time awkwardly shoehorning in the fact that he was bi. And maybe specifically had a weak spot brilliant but brooding boys with intense gazes and nice hands. “Nah, we’re both way too queer for that. She’s my best friend, though.”

Zuko glanced shyly at him. Was Sokka imagining it, or was there relief in his face? “That’s… kinda like me and Mai,” he said. “Although after we broke up, I think my sister got her in the settlement.”

Boy, was there a lot to unpack there. Sokka threw his last stone over his shoulder, not even bothering to skip it, and joined Zuko on the rock. “That sucks,” he said.

“Yeah, I mean, Mai’s not really even supposed to be dating anyone because her dad’s running for governor. But even though… I like boys more and she likes girls more…” Here, he glanced nervously at Sokka, clearly not very used to talking openly about this. “It was like Azula only let us be friends if she thought we were dating, like that gave it some kind of legitimacy or something.”

“What the hell,” said Sokka, never one who had been able to self-censor when a strong opinion flared up inside him. And he had almost started to like Azula back at the house, too. Well, maybe like was the wrong word. Appreciate the raw vindictive energy of her. “Why is your sister like… controlling who you’re friends with?”

Zuko chewed on the corner of his lip, shoving his hands into his pockets.. “It’s a long story,” he said. “Things are in sort of a… delicate situation with my family right now. It’s better to just let her have her way.”

“I’ve got time,” said Sokka. He did his best to keep his voice light, casual, trying to disguise his desperate desire to know more. Zuko, this year more than any other, seemed worn down, like his cocky and competitive fire was barely an ember.

Zuko sighed. He leaned back on his elbows on the rock, his elegant peacoat probably getting smeared with moss. “There’s some legal stuff going on... I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

Sokka nodded, finding that he cared substantially more about making this boy feel comfortable and at ease than learning painful secrets. “No worries, that makes sense.”

Zuko hesitated. Unconsciously, his hand went to his scar. “You promise not to tell anyone?” he said, so low Sokka had to lean in to catch it.

“I mean, yeah, of course,” Sokka said. “Only if you want to talk about it.”

It seemed Zuko did want to talk about it. He told the story in a low, quiet voice, soft and careful at first. A story about a wealthy family, an ideal family, a perfect family. A mother and a father and a daughter and a son. But the father had a cruel streak, and controlled every lever of power over the family. The mother was the usual victim of that cruel streak, and the brother and the sister would sometimes hear sounds of shouting, breaking, hurting, late at night. Things got worse, their mother less and less present, less and less together. Then one day, the mother crept away in the night, fleeing to an old boyfriend (according to the dad), gone without so much as a word.

“There’s a lot I don’t know there. Then after she left, things got so much worse… my dad started taking things out on me instead.” Zuko let out a humorless laugh. “I guess I had no idea how much she was protecting me from him before he was gone.”

Jesus. Sokka felt sick, thinking about being left behind like that. “Like how?” he said.

“I mean, your basic abusive garbage that I have a lot of therapy words for now.” Zuko held his shoulders as tight and still as the rock that they were sitting on. “Everything was my fault, especially my mom leaving. He was really good at pitting me and Azula against each other, too, which really sucks because Azula never loses. So I really… things were really bad for a while. But then…” Here, he smiled, just a little. “So my dad figured out I liked boys, I think Azula told him, which is low even for her, but she was in kind of a tough spot… anyway. After that, my dad would also use that as yet another excuse to berate me, but I... I know there’s nothing wrong with being gay… like c’mon…” He let out a short, sharp exhale, even less of a laugh. “And that made me realize that… maybe he wasn’t right about all the other stuff, about me being… stupid, or not good enough, or the reason my mom left, or whatever. Like that he might not be right about anything.”

Sokka kept flashing back to the past few years. Thinking back on all the different Zukos he had seen-- while all this had been going on-- and he had been alone, so alone (that hurt)-- but he had still figured out that he was worth something. Sokka felt unbelievably proud of him, and at the same time, he ached.

Zuko kept going, the word faster now, like the levee had broken. “But then things got bad again because I got angry, and I started talking back, and then he started hitting me, and… well. Things kind of escalated from there. Then we got into a fight over winter break when I was making mac ‘n cheese, and he, uh, threw the pot of boiling water in my face.” Zuko stared at the ground, his voice full of anger, sadness, resignation-- worst of all, an embarrassment that made Sokka’s heart hurt. “I still can’t even smell mac n’ cheese without, uh… It was really bad.”

Sokka stayed silent, barely breathing. What could he say to that? And even if he knew words that could magically heal the scar on Zuko’s face, or even take away some of the heaviness of the way he talked about it, he couldn’t have said them through the lump in his throat.

“So after that whole incident, I kind of… bailed. I went to my Uncle’s, and now I stay with him during school breaks and stuff. He’s helped me a lot. And even my dad kind of realized he crossed a line when he, you know, melted half my face off.” Zuko barked out one of those humorless laughs again. “Or at least realized that he could get into legal trouble for it.”

“Did he?” Sokka asked, finally pushing the words out, his heart pounding. “‘Cause if not, I’ll… Zuko, I swear to God, I’ll go fight him, I really will.”

A very small, sad smile appeared on Zuko’s face. “Thanks, Sokka. Nah, nothing happened. He shoved a bunch of money in my bank account and didn’t say anything when I stopped coming home. Like… like hush money.” He set his jaw. “Like I’d ever fucking touch his money after that. I didn’t press charges or anything, I knew that wouldn’t do anything. But my uncle helped me get to the hospital and stuff, and had me take a bunch of pictures in case-- in case-- they’d be useful.”

“Useful how?” Sokka asked, horrified by the idea that a dad could just hurt his son, throw money at him, then forget about him. He thought about Hakoda, who had sat up with Sokka all night when he broke his leg a few years back, and felt in that moment incredibly lucky.

Zuko looked around, as though Bato might be lurking in his backyard nearby listening in. “Well, this is the legal part. So my dad runs the family business, which is actually less of a family business and more of a multinational corporation that mostly owns shares in giant drilling companies. Hypothetically, if my dad was involved in some… let’s say, sketchy business practices at work…”

“In addition to being a fucking asshole,” Sokka said.

“Right, in addition. And if my uncle had some pretty good evidence on a wide range of… dark stuff... that he may or may be responsible for on a lot of levels, and had a few very interested parties in law enforcement... and is putting together a pattern of behavior…” Zuko sighed. “I’m really, really not supposed to talk about it. But my uncle’s working on getting him put away.”

“Good,” Sokka said fiercely. “Does he need help? I’ll volunteer.”

Zuko smiled, his eyes distant. “Um,” he said. “I’m sorry for dumping all this on you. I know we don’t know each other very well. And you probably hated me like twenty-four hours ago.”

Had it really been just that day that Zuko apologized, that all the twisted up feelings Sokka had felt over the years had sort of just… relaxed? After everything that had happened today, it felt like they had known each other for years, even if he was only just now getting the details. “We’re nemeses,” he said. “You can tell me anything.”

“It’s kind of a relief to talk about it,” Zuko said. He wrapped his arms around himself. “Lately, um, I don’t really have anyone I can talk to aside from Uncle. I think my dad has figured out he’s closing in on him, so he’s been trying to get Azula to like… figure out what he knows. That’s why things are so… so fucked-up right now. I think she’s spying on me. I can’t tell anyone at Sozin anything. Even Mai. I don’t know who I can trust.”

He looked away. There was silence between them for a long moment, just the sound of the ocean lapping gently at the shore.

“Zuko… do you like… really need a hug?” Sokka asked, because it was the only thing he could think of to say. Because his own throat was still catching at the horror of the story and at the matter-of-factness with which Zuko related it. Because he really just wanted to have his arms wrapped around him and try to give him some of all the connection and warmth that he’d been deprived of so long.

Zuko glanced at him, his shoulders hunched, his eyes peeking through his rumpled hair. During his telling, the two of them had pulled closer together on the rock, neither of them saying anything about it. “A hug?”

“Yeah, a hug,” Sokka said, retreating to sarcasm and science, where he felt safest. “You know, where someone wraps their arms around you and squeezes, and your brain squirts out sweet sweet oxytocin and serotonin. ”

A small smile flickered across Zuko’s face. Sokka would spend all day coming up with dumb jokes for a few more of those. “I’d like that,” he said softly.

That was all the encouragement Sokka needed. He turned toward Zuko, wrapped his arms around him, and pulled him in. He squeezed too tightly for a moment, continuing the joke, but after a moment, let his arms release into a more natural hug, holding the other boy close.

Zuko was stiff at first, but soon he relaxed into Sokka’s arms, dropping his head against Sokka’s shoulders, his face pressed into the denim and fleece of his jacket. Sokka felt something melt inside him, the cold air around them forgotten in the warm realization that Zuko, who had been through so much, was trusting him, talking to him, resting with him.

They sat like that for what felt like a long time, butts going numb against the cold rock, Sokka watching the ocean waves come gently in and out, in and out, over the ruffle of Zuko’s hair.

“This is nice,” Zuko said quietly, his voice muffled against Sokka’s coat.

“I’m, like, a really good hugger,” said Sokka, thrilling at the small laugh that shook Zuko’s shoulders.

Sokka kept expecting him to pull away-- he sure as hell wasn’t going to be the first to pull away-- but instead, Zuko’s hands snaked around his waist. All of a sudden, things felt different. Not just him, comforting Zuko, but something close and tender and raw, the gravitational push/pull that had existed between them since the very first time they saw each other pulling closer than ever. He thought he could feel Zuko’s pulse racing, or maybe it was his own.

“You know,” Sokka said, his mouth doing the thing where it said things without the prior approval of his brain, “I could also, I don’t know, kiss you or something.”

Zuko stiffened in his arms. He pulled half-away, looking up at Sokka, eyes bright and startled.

Sokka panicked, backtracking as quickly as he could. Zuko had just delivered a literal litany of horrors, and here he was, being a thirsty disaster as per usual. “Or not, my bad, I just-- God, you’re just really adorable, and I just thought-- but also, I’m here to support you, like, as a friend, too, I mean that, and--” The connection between his mouth and brain had now officially short-circuited. He let go of Zuko, leaned back on his hands on the rock, swung his gaze up toward the sky, his face burning. “Oh my God. I’m just gonna go walk into the ocean forever really quick.”

“Sokka,” Zuko said softly.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Sokka said. “I’m so sorry. Forget I said anything.”

Zuko took him by the arm. Sokka turned back, met his eyes, saw the gentle happiness in them even in the darkness. “No,” he said, and leaned in, pressed his lips to Sokka’s.

Startled, Sokka found himself grinning as he kissed back, both from the surprise of being cut out of his panic spiral, and from the pleasure of seeing Zuko take something, boldly, for himself. Sokka gave it to him willingly, curving his body toward Zuko’s, hands sneaking up the arms of his peacoat to the back of his cold neck. This-- this was what he’d been waiting for, a chance to get closer to this enigma, this mystery Physics nerd, this pretend nemesis.

When one of Sokka’s thumbs brushed across Zuko’s cheek, the other boy flinched.

“Oh, shit, my bad, did that hurt?” Sokka said breathlessly, pulling away a few inches. He had forgotten about Zuko’s scar in the dark closeness.

“No, I-- sorry,” Zuko said, his shoulders tightening. “Just startled me. It doesn’t hurt.”

Sokka’s brain didn’t always know the right way to handle things, but sometimes his instincts took over and did an all right job. As gently as he could, he leaned in close, holding Zuko’s face tenderly as a bird, and brushed a soft kiss across the rough skin of his scar. “Is… is that okay?” he asked, praying he hadn’t crossed a line. “I really like kissing you.”

Zuko relaxed visibly. He inclined his head even closer, resting his forehead head briefly against Sokka’s. “Yeah,” he said, softly, one of his tiny, crooked smiles quirking at his lips.

They kissed for-- Sokka wasn’t sure how long. The moment felt tight and tender, held together the same way surface tension holds drops of water together in a fragile sphere, and he couldn’t have said how much time had passed. He forgot the cold air, the party they’d left behind, the sound of the ocean. There was just Zuko, and deep kisses and gentle hands roaming and a few soft giggles when they accidentally bonked noses.

Sokka hadn’t felt anything like this in a long, long time, this absolute nosedive into caring. He hadn’t let himself. Not since Yue.

Oh, shit. He was really in over his head, wasn’t he?

Well. Worth it.

Sokka was starting to feel overheated in his jacket despite the cold air when he heard, faintly, a voice in the distance calling his name.

Fuck, was that Aang? He paused, torn back to reality, lightheaded, still holding tightly to Zuko. “Maybe if we ignore him, he’ll go away,” he breathed in his ear.

Zuko chuckled, taking Sokka’s hand, entwining their fingers together.

“Sokka, seriously, you out here?” the voice called. Yep, definitely Aang. Why had Katara shown him this beach? Sokka could have killed the kid if he wasn’t part of such a pacifist sect.

He closed his eyes. “What?” he yelled, angling his body away from Zuko’s so he wasn’t shouting in his face, but without letting go of his hand. He wasn’t ready for that yet.

“How do I find you from here?” Aang called.

“Just cut through the alley!”

“What alley-- oh-- okay, hang on!”

Zuko had been watching this conversation with a wry expression, lips swollen, eyes lit up with amusement. “Sounds important,” he said in his gravelly voice.

“I swear to God, Jet’s house better fucking be on fire-- what’s up, Aang?” Sokka said as the boy came out of the reeds, head tattoo practically glowing in the moonlight.

Aang was panting. “I couldn’t remember how to get here from Jet’s. Oh, hi Zuko,” he said, like it wasn’t weird walking in on your Science Bowl captain and his archrival holding hands. “Listen, Sokka, I think you need to come back. There’s a bunch of stuff happening. Oh, plus we need to get Toph home soon.”

Sokka glanced at his phone, which was dangerously close to death in the cold, and sighed heavily. Five missed calls, several missed texts. Almost ten PM. “Shit,” he said. “We need to start driving back like, right now.”

He glanced at Zuko. “I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s okay, Sokka,” Zuko said, a small smile on his face, and Sokka was done for.

They followed Aang back, hands still linked. Aang walked quickly through the alley, his face concerned. “What’s happening?” Sokka asked.

“Jet broke up with Katara,” Aang said. For a moment, a dark expression crossed his face. Sokka was reminded that cheerful waters ran deep with this one. But it was gone, almost as quickly as it appeared. “She’s really upset. But also…” He glanced at Zuko. “Um, your friends got in kind of an argument with each other, and with Suki and Toph, and I just, uh… I thought we might need you, Sokka.”

Zuko’s face tightened at the mention of the Sozin gang. Sokka suddenly felt panicked at the idea of leaving him back with his sister, back with people he couldn’t trust, back alone. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

Zuko nodded. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone that made Sokka want to take him home and feed him Gran Gran's chowder and hug him forever.

They were approaching Jet’s house, now. Sokka could tell that there were already more people inside by the coat pile on the couch through the window. Outside, Suki and Katara were sitting on the front porch. Katara was crying, and Suki’s arm was wrapped around her. “There you are,” Suki said, her voice irritable.

“What happened?” Sokka asked. “Katara, I’m really sorry. Do you want me to kill Jet?”

His sister just sobbed harder. Suki said, “You’re gonna wanna go collect Toph.” Then she turned to Zuko. “And you’re gonna want to get your friends out of here.”

Sokka and Zuko exchanged glances. This didn’t sound good. Sokka led the way inside.

It was just Toph and the Sozin girls inside. “Where is everyone?” Sokka asked.

“Mario Kart,” said Aang, who had slipped in behind them.

“Toph, we should get you home,” Sokka said. “We’re really flirting with the curfew line here.”

Toph stood her ground, pointing one finger in Azula’s direction. Azula’s hair looked a little messy. Mai was expressionless as per usual, but Sokka thought there might be some tension in her face, and Ty Lee looked close to tears, her mascara smudged. “Azula broke Suki’s fan.”

“It was an accident,” said Azula, her voice still perfectly prim and proper despite her slightly disheveled appearance. “I can’t help it if she left it out on the table where anyone could knock it off and step on it.”

Sokka felt his hackles rise. He felt like everyone he cared about was being attacked. “All right, party’s over, at least for us,” he said. “C’mon, Toph, I’m taking you home. Zuko, can you…”

“On it,” Zuko said. “C’mon, we gotta get back.”

Azula’s eyes flickered back and forth between Sokka and Zuko, like she was calculating. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but Ty Lee just linked arms with her and started walking her out. Mai followed, fists clenched.

Zuko started to leave, too. Sokka grabbed his hand. “Hey, wait,” he said. “Um-- will you text me? Let me know you make it home?”

Zuko smiled. “Yeah, I will.”

“Maybe we could even… you know… do something sometime,” Sokka added.

“I’d like that,” he said. He squeezed Sokka’s hand, and reluctantly, let it go. And then he was gone.

“Wow, I’m blind and even I can see the chemistry there,” Toph said. “Damn, son, makin’ moves.”

Sokka closed his eyes. “Toph, can you just…”

“Aye aye, Captain Boomerang,” she said. She zipped her lips and left for the porch.

Sokka very strongly considered going upstairs and punching Jet-- it would have felt good to punch something in that moment-- but no time. Instead, he grabbed Suki’s fan, which was indeed on the floor, two of the ribs snapped and the paper partially torn. He put it carefully in the pocket of his jacket, then met his friends on the porch again.

“God, she’s a fucking piece of work,” Toph was saying, a little too loud, watching the Sozin kids walk back toward their car. “Sorry about the fan, Suki.”

“She did something worse to Mai,” Suki said darkly. Sokka looked at her quizzically. What the hell had he missed? She just shook her head, and pulled Katara in tighter. “God, what a mess of a night. It’s okay, Katara,” she said. “C’mon, let’s go back to your house.”

Sokka gestured toward Aang and Toph. “I’m taking the kids home, you good?”

Suki nodded, having crashed at Katara and Sokka’s many a night over the years.

“All right.” Sokka looked at his team, in various states of distress. It had been a long, long day. “I think everyone needs some rest. I’ll see you two at home.”

They parted ways, Sokka craning his head to see if he could spot Zuko getting into his car. But the Sozin kids were already lost to the darkness of the streets, even under the bright light of the moon.

Chapter Text

Saturday

sokka: you make it home okay?
zuko: Yeah, all in one piece. Azula and Ty Lee are a little drunk, haha.
sokka: well, make sure they drink some h20.
zuko: Will do.
zuko: I’m really sorry about all the drama.
sokka: no worries it happens

…

zuko: I had a nice time tonight.
sokka: yeah despite all our friends having meltdowns, i kinda did too :)
zuko: Good night, Sokka.
sokka: night ;)

Sokka had managed to drop off Aang and a tipsy but furiously mint-gum-chewing Toph (two minutes late, for which her mom gave him the stinkeye from her front door). By the time he got home, Suki had managed to comfort a drunk and sobbing Katara sufficiently to get her into bed.

They sat in the dark living room together, slumped into the couch, just processing the day. Suki told him what had gone down while he was off successfully wooing his nemesis: tipsy and brave, she had made a move on Mai. Just a quick, bold party sort of kiss, nothing crazy. Mai had been receptive, until she realized Azula had gotten it on video.

“Which, like, even with beer pong, she must have been like, half listening in on our convo. She’s fucking crazy,” Suki said. “Like, she claimed it was a joke, but that’s not funny. And then when Toph and I were yelling at her to try to get her to, like, delete it, she took that opportunity to accidentally-on-purpose knock my fan off the table and step on it.”

“Fuck, dude,” Sokka said hoarsely, voice tired after the long day. He tried to correlate Azula’s actions with everything Zuko had told him. Was she trying to gain some kind of leverage, get to Mai to get to Zuko? Or was this just part of some weird power trip?

“Anyway, then Katara came down in tears. Really remarkable timing, Jet,” Suki’s hair was a mess. That and saying "like" so much were usually the only ways to tell she was drunk. She took off her glasses, rubbed her eyes. “Total shitshow.”

“Katara okay?” Sokka asked.

“Yeah. She’s upset, but more angry than anything else. Think that’s a good sign.” Suki sighed. “Well, we might not be getting invited back to Jet’s.”

“Fucking worth it,” Sokka said. Suki gave him a fist bump, then yawned hugely. “You take my bed, okay, dude?” he added. “Not because you’re a girl. Because you’re a guest.”

Suki nodded and stretched. They’d been through this before. She patted Sokka’s head and went up to the attic. Sokka pulled the old crocheted blanket around himself, snuggling into the faded couch. Despite everything that had happened that day, everything that had gone wrong that night, as he closed his eyes and rested against the old, corduroy cushions, all that was on his mind as he fell asleep was Zuko, Zuko, Zuko.

*

Sunday

sokka: hey how was ur day
zuko: Not bad so far. Uncle’s going to Hong Kong soon to finalize some stuff with the investigation, so today I’m mostly helping him get ahead of restock at the shop.
zuko: How are you?
sokka: glad your uncle is movin stuff along dude
sokka: today im just livin life.
sokka: man yesterday was crazy huh
zuko: I’m really sorry about everything that happened with Azula. Is Suki okay?
sokka: she’s pissed but she’ll live. mai?
zuko: I’m not sure.
zuko: I think she’s avoiding me.
sokka: that sucks dude i’m sorry i didn’t mean for this party to like, blow up your science bowl team
zuko: Well, you are my nemesis.
sokka: lol u got that right ;)

…

Zuko didn’t text back, and Sokka, sitting in his attic room, left it at that. He didn’t want to overwhelm the guy, didn’t want to be too needy, even though, god dammit, he already was already practically climbing up the walls with the desire to see Zuko again. Yeah, partially to smooch and hold hands and maybe even see what he looked like without his shirt on if he was cool with it, but it was more than that. After everything Zuko had told him at the beach, he wanted eyes on him, just to make sure he was safe.

It was the same way he had driven Suki everywhere last year when she would go on random crying jags, the same way he had walked to the middle school every day to pick up Katara after school in the weeks after their mom died. Just knowing they were safe, were okay, was half the battle.

Not knowing was so much worse. He knew by experience.

Speaking of Katara, though, he needed her help. He grabbed Suki’s broken Kyoshi/captain fan, depending who you asked, and ran down the stairs, the steps creaking and groaning under his weight. He knocked on Katara’s door, recognizing Suki’s “angry breakup” playlist blasting from her speakers.

“Come in,” Katara yelled over Alanis Morrisette.

She kept her room stupid neat, balls of yarn in little plastic bins sorted by color, knitting projects arrayed across her desk. Stacks of books-- she only had one bookshelf and about two bookshelves worth of books-- were arranged by topic (mostly, by branch of medicine) and then by author. She almost never did homework at her desk, and now she was lying flat on the floor raised up on her elbows, doing some kind of yoga pose while nose deep in an EMT handbook.

Sokka had to smile. “You got a minute?” she asked.

She barely looked up from her textbook. “What’s up?”

“Uh, can you help me sew Suki’s fan paper back together?” he said. “I think that’ll work better than glue.”

Katara’s eyes narrowed. This time, she looked at him, eyes blazing. “I am never, ever, going to do womanly work for a man ever again just because he can’t be bothered to learn about it or value it!”

She was shouting a little by the end. She slammed the textbook shut.

Sokka took his cue, backed out of the room. Okay, maybe this was a tender area right now. He thought about whether it’d be worth it to leave the house and go rough up Jet a little-- he could go pick up Toph, she’d probably help-- but instead, he walked back down the stairs. Maybe Gran Gran could teach him a little about sewing.

*

Monday

They didn’t text at all on Monday. Sokka tried not to be self-conscious of the fact that he’d been the one to start all their texts so far. Anyway, Monday had been a rude awakening when he went to class and was confronted with all the homework he had neglected last week as he prepared for Science Bowl.

The team met for a quick practice. “We’ve got nationals in two weeks, everyone,” Suki said, and handed out typed schedules she had put together over the weekend. “Here’s our flight info, here’s our hotel info, and here’s the conference center.”

“This is useless to me,” said Toph, crumpling the paper and shooting it in what she must’ve thought was the direction of the recycling bin. (It wasn’t. It landed in Bumi’s ball python’s tank.)

“I’ll email you,” Suki promised. Her repaired fan sat on her desk. Still, she wasn't playing with it as much-- since breaking (and, perhaps, since her brief dalliance with Mai), it had seemed to lose some of its lustre for her. Anyway, the stitches were fragile (especially the few, gap-toothed ones at the end that had been Sokka's attempts). “Just get your folks to sign the permission slips so we can confirm all this with the people in charge. And we’re technically supposed to bring a chaperone in addition to Bumi, so if anyone’s parents are tryna come, let me know.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Katara said as they all looked toward Bumi. He was busy dangling a frozen mouse into the snake tank.

“Come on, sweetie pie,” their coach told the ball python. “Eat up your dinner.”

“Sokka, anything we should keep in mind prep-wise?” Suki asked.

He looked up from his phone. Stop waiting for Zuko to text and help your team, he admonished himself. “Gran Gran was right. Not every team is gonna have a Mai, but we do need to work on Math. Let’s drill some questions, and let’s up our practice to three days a week. We’re in this now.”

They really were. He shoved his phone into his pocket. Let it be, he told himself. He's shy and you don't want to overwhelm him. Let it be.

*

Tuesday

zuko: Good morning, nemesis.

Well, that would wake you up when you had been planning to hit snooze two or three more times. Sokka couldn't stop grinning.

sokka: idk if you’re supposed to wish ur nemesis good morning
zuko: We might not be very good nemeses.
sokka: well, we’ll keep practicing ;)

Sokka was so buoyed by Zuko texting first that he barrelled straight on into sending the message he had wanted to send all week.

sokka: hey btw you want to maybe do something this week
sokka: like, an activity of some kind
sokka: mayhaps
zuko: I’d like that a lot. Um, I have fencing practice after class most days, but not on Thursday? Does that work?
sokka: lit. i’ll text you.

Later in the day, AP Econ was so boring Sokka couldn’t resist sending another.

sokka: ps
sokka: if i were to receive any cute fencing selfies,
sokka: i wouldn’t hate that

It wasn’t until after school, after Sokka driven to Suki’s so they could cram for yet another calc exam, that Sokka heard back.

zuko: [selfie, in a fencing mask, holding an epee]
sokka: man in a mask. who could it be.
zuko: I’ll never tell.
zuko: ;)

Oh my God. He had sent a winky face back. Suki and all the winky face haters could eat his shorts.

sokka: bet he’d be cuter without the mask

He hoped he hadn’t overstepped, but it was true. His brain felt like nuclear fusion, reactions expanding on themselves, a ball of energy like a miniature sun. It was exhilarating. It felt dangerous.

*

Wednesday

sokka: hey what time did u wanna hang on thurs?

He had dashed that off before Science Bowl practice, with the idea he’d be too busy answering questions to obsessively check his phone. They’d opted for a battle of the gender identities today, with Sokka and Aang vs. Suki, Katara, and Toph. Aang was taking a turn in the captain chair, and Sokka was trying to stay focused to give him critique later on.

Still, when his phone buzzed while Suki, Toph, and Katara (the girls’ captain for today) were discussing a bonus, he grabbed it immediately out of his pocket to check.

zuko: Leave me alone. Don’t ever text me again.
zuko: I never should have gotten mixed up with someone like you.

Sokka blinked. Read the text, re-read it, over and over. The words had hit him so sharply and so suddenly he almost felt dazed. He had gotten a concussion, once, gotten accidentally clotheslined by a horrified Bato carrying a twelve-foot beam down at the docks. The blow had been sharp but not awful, but the pain, the fuzziness and confusion-- that had set in slowly but surely. Until he wasn’t sure when he’d ever start getting better because it felt like things could only get worse, the initial blow revealing its intensity over days and weeks.

“Physics, short answer,” read Bumi, for once relatively focused. “What mechanical property of a material characterizes its stiffness as a ratio of its stress to strain?”

What property of a Sokka makes him stupid enough to get all hopeful like this?

Aang was watching him. Suki and the others, too. No one knew. This was supposed to be his job. He buzzed, out of habit. “Elastic modulus,” he said, wondering how he was able to speak when it felt like all of the air had been forced out of his lungs.

They didn’t get the bonus. In fact, Sokka didn’t get a single question the rest of practice. His phone sat in his pocket like a grenade. What had he said? What had he done? What had happened?

*

Thursday

sokka: ????????
Message not delivered

Dreary sleet pounded down from the sky as Sokka got into his truck after school, alone. He’d told his friends about what had happened and they had been duly indignant on his behalf, especially Katara, who was really on an “all men are trash” train. But it was Thursday. No practice-- Katara had EMT class and Aang volunteered at the animal shelter and normally, he and Suki got Dunks and tore their hair out over calculus in her mom’s kitchen, but today she had had to leave school early for the dentist.

So it was just Sokka and his thoughts.

He had scrolled back through their short text history dozens of times, trying to figure out what had happened. He felt sick to his stomach.

Maybe Zuko had decided slumming it with the Omashu kids wasn’t worth it.

Or maybe… whispered the back of Sokka's mind. Maybe he was in trouble.

This didn't square with the Zuko he had been texting with the past few days. The one who had apologized for a rude comment from years ago. The one who had kissed him on the rock. What if, this was... somehow a sign of something bad?

Sokka was pretty sure that was wishful thinking. That this was just a case of rich kid’s remorse. At least that was what Suki and Katara said. And even if it wasn’t wishful thinking--even if Zuko had for some reason sent this message under duress or been kidnapped or any other number of horrible scenarios involving his dad that Sokka’s mind had conjured up all last night instead of sleeping-- he had no idea what to do about it.

He hadn’t felt this sick and powerless since Yue.

Nope, it wasn’t going to help to think about that now.

Sokka was so lonely he had almost asked Toph to hang out, but he was so tense and out of it he didn’t think he’d be any fun anyway. There was no one to distract him, no Suki blasting music or Katara complaining about the cold from the crack in the truck’s rear wheel well or Toph or Aang harassing him with their loud debates and laughter and pranks.

Despite the sleet pounding down on the windows, it was too quiet. He put his truck into gear, pulled out of the lot.

Sokka didn’t like being alone with his thoughts when he was like this. Because every time he managed to stop thinking about Zuko-- managed to stop the high-pitched what the actual fuck happened on repeat in his brain-- his brain went to the last time he had felt like this. This mix of fear and guilt and concern for someone’s safety.

It had been Sokka’s sophomore fall. Yue had been a freshman, same lunch period. It was instant crush from the second he saw her smile, and her gentle laughter at his dumb jokes, and her kindhearted way of pulling in more awkward kids to sit with them sealed the deal.

They had been dating a few weeks, and it felt as sweet and intense as anything Sokka had felt in his life. She was from his neighborhood near the port. Sometimes they’d go to Sokka’s beach together, and listen to the ocean, look at the moon, talking about all their big dreams for the future. (Yue had wanted to be a vet, and Sokka wanted to work for NASA. That was back before Sokka realized he’d never be able to pay off college if he went into pure physics.)

Things were good-- so good-- until the bad started to seep in at the edges. Sokka started to realize that Yue never wanted him to come over to her house. That she wore long sleeves that sometimes covered bruised wrists and shoulders. That she got cagey and stressed when he asked her about her family, and flinched when startled or when a voice got too loud. That sometimes, when they were kissing, she froze up, and when he pulled back and pulled her into a hug instead, she apologized repeatedly, scared almost, in a way that hurt his heart.

Sokka wanted to help her. Over and over, he told her that if she ever needed a place to stay, she could stay with him. That he wanted to protect her. And she told him, over and over, that she was fine and everything was okay.

It got too hard when she missed a day of school and came in the next day with a black eye. He kept asking her about it, until she got angry and stopped talking to him. So he did the only thing he could think of, stomach in knots the whole time: he went to the guidance counselor, Mrs. Wu. The students referred to as Aunt Wu because she had a slightly vodka aunt energy, but when Sokka came into her office and hesitantly shared that he thought Yue might be being abused, she had taken him seriously.

That Friday, Yue missed school again, and didn’t respond to his texts. Sokka worried about it all weekend, but tried to give her space. Monday, she was missing, too. By Tuesday, his family was worried about him because he had barely eaten or slept in a couple days, but how could he, when he still hadn’t heard back? She wasn’t responding to Katara’s texts, either. Instagram? Silent. Facebook? Deleted. Snapchat? Blocked.

It was like she had vanished.

Aunt Wu told him that, as a mandated reporter, she had called CPS, they had investigated, and that Yue had gone to a foster home and was getting in touch with out-of-state relatives. “Give her time,” Aunt Wu told her. “She’ll reach out when she’s ready.”

But here’s the thing. How did Sokka know he hadn’t ruined her life? He was pretty sure he had. What if foster care was worse? What if her new relatives were worse? He had no idea if she was safe, happy… even alive.

Sometimes, when he thought too hard, he still hated himself for it. For not protecting her. For not finding a better way.

He realized, almost in a haze, that he had driven to the Jasmine Dragon. Not even sure what he was hoping for-- maybe just a glimpse to see if Zuko was there, alive, safe? That would be enough-- he parked his truck amongst the Audis and Lexuses and hurried into the tea shop through the rain.

The weather must have been keeping people away. Just a few people, students mostly, scattered at individual tables with books and laptops and headphones. No Zuko, not that he could see at any of the tables, or behind the counter. Maybe he was in the back or something. Jamming his hands into the pockets of his jacket, feeling like his back was too exposed here in Sozin territory, he approached the counter. A barista with some of the coolest sloppy-on-purpose hair he'd ever seen was scrolling through her phone as he approached.

“Hi,” he said. “Uh, is Zuko working today? Or Iroh?” Maybe his uncle could just confirm whether Zuko was all right or not.

Her nametag said Jin. She looked up from her phone, eyes narrowed. “Why, what do you want?”

“Just wanted to say hi,” Sokka said weakly.

She looked him up and down and decided he apparently didn’t pose a threat. Sokka wondered how much the staff at the Jasmine Dragon knew about Iroh’s double life trying to expose a web of criminal activity by the sadistic bastard at the top of a multinational company. “Iroh’s out of town,” she said. “Zuko’s not on today. You want anything to drink?”

Sokka got an iced coffee, more out of awkwardness and habit than any desire to drink it. The only thing he had eaten since yesterday was the piece of toast Gran Gran had forcibly inserted into his mouth this morning when she realized that he had barely touched dinner last night and skipped breakfast this morning. Food didn’t help the sick feeling.

On his way back out, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, like someone was watching him. He glanced over his shoulder, and-- yep. He hadn’t noticed her before, but she had clearly noticed him. Mai was staring at him openly, her expression unreadable as ever.

Sokka sucked up his pride and walked over to her. At least she might have some intel. “Hey, Mai,” he said.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up around here,” she said evenly, setting down her pencil. She had a gigantic textbook about linear algebra open in front of her, and graph paper with notes in a tight, thin scrawl.

He sat down at her table. In for a penny, in for a pound, as Gran Gran would say. “Have you seen Zuko at all?” he asked.

Mai clicked her mechanical pencil up and down, then twirled it in her fingers. Kind of cool. No wonder Suki liked her. “Not since the party,” she said.

Zuko had said she was avoiding him. Right. “I’m sorry about all that with Azula, by the way,” he said.

“Azula claims to have deleted the video, so it’s not like there’s anything to apologize for,” she said, though her sour expression and tight lips seemed to suggest doubt around both those statements.

Sokka was too exhausted to interpret all this confusing Sozin Academy “read between the lines” bullshit. “Why haven’t you seen Zuko?” he asked.

She stared down at her book. “The less close he and I are, the less leverage Azula has over either of us,” she said.

Jesus, that was dark. “That sucks,” he said, the only reply he could think of that felt honest. “Listen, do you… uh… he and I were texting, and then he kind of just told me to… never talk to him again and I think he blocked me. It felt kind of out of nowhere, and I was just…” He had barely known this girl a few days ago and here he was coming to her with all his fears and insecurities. “I was wondering if he’s okay.”

“Maybe he just didn’t like you as much as you thought,” Mai said, inspecting her nails.

Sokka’s face tightened. “Right,” he said. “Thanks.” He stood up to leave.

“Wait,” Mai said. She put out a hand, though she stopped short of touching him. “I-- sorry. I’m sorry.” The apology sounded like it fit strangely in her mouth. She glanced toward the door, toward the other students, then continued in a low voice. “Listen, for what it’s worth, he was smiling all the way home after that stupid party. And you were Hot Physics Guy to him for a couple years. If…” She hesitated. “If he doesn’t want to see you again, I don’t know what that’s about either.”

Sokka just looked at her, unsure whether this made him feel better or worse.

Mai shrugged, turning back to her math textbook. “Unless of course, you said something really idiotic, which I wouldn’t put past you,” she added. One final barb for the road.

“Should I say hi to Suki for you?” he asked, a half-hearted attempt to barb back as he picked up his coffee.

He expected an icy stare, but instead he got a look that, for the first time, held a microcosm of warmth. “Yeah,” she said.

He left, then, leaving her with her math book and her tea and her empty seat across the table. That was the thing he couldn’t stand about these Sozin kids. How lonely they all seemed, even around each other. It made him feel empty as he sat back in his truck, the rain pounding on the roof, creating through contrast a hollow stillness inside.

Chapter Text

Suki must have thought from the tone and tenor of Sokka’s texts about the Jasmine Dragon that he was about to jump off a bridge or something, because she showed up on his porch that night with a warm paper bag full of burritos from his favorite spot in her neighborhood. “Calc and ‘ritos?” she asked, pulling down her hood.

“How’d you get here?” he asked, letting her in. The rain had stopped, but the winds were still damp and cold.

“Took the 76. You don’t always have to drive everyone around, you know,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said, meaning it. After getting back from the Jasmine Dragon, he had gone home and managed to fall asleep for an hour, only to startle himself awake with a nightmare that was equal parts Zuko, Yue, and his mom. He couldn’t save any of them. And the confusion of waking up from stilted sleep after dark had really mucked with his head.

He'd picked at his dinner, mumbled nothings about his day to his dad. Since then he’d been sitting in the living room with Gran Gran watching Family Feud, unable to figure out what to do with himself.

Gran Gran stood up with the aid of her cane, shutting off the TV with the remote. ”You two have fun,” she said. “It’s getting to be my bedtime.” She pointed her cane at Suki as she made her way to the first-floor bedroom. Sometimes Sokka wondered if she liked it better as a mobility aid or just a way to gesture more forcibly. “Get him to eat something,” she said. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Suki said. “He’ll be all right.”

This was what he appreciated about Suki. Just being around her created an island of normalcy. Sokka even managed a few bites of the burrito as they spread their calc books across the dining room table. It didn’t taste right, but still, the familiar routine of tackling calc problems, one at a time, his best friend at his side, helped to settle him a little. Even if he was still so preoccupied that the numbers and variables might have been some kind of incomprehensible secret code.

“How was the dentist?” he asked Suki when they’d been silent for a few minutes and he had managed to solve exactly zero problems.

“Fine. Definitely the most important subject for us to cover,” Suki said. She was very carefully not looking up from her book, giving Sokka space to answer in whatever way he wanted. “How was the Jasmine Dragon?”

Sokka sighed. “Mai says hi. I think you made quite an impression.”

Suki looked up, a little smile on her face. “I did like her… and it did feel good to, you know. Get out there a little. Remember that there are other girls on the planet and that I’m like… allowed to flirt with them.”

At least that was something. “Proud of you.”

“Enough about me. You’ve got everyone worried. You find out what made Zuko go off the rails like that?” she asked.

Sokka didn’t say anything. He picked a grain of rice out of his burrito, flicked it at her.

She flicked it back. “C’mon, dude, talk to me.”

“I’m really worried about him, Suki,” he said. “I just-- he’s going through a lot right now. Like some really dark shit.”

Suki gave him a look. “What?” he said.

“He can be going through shit but I’m still allowed to be mad at him for texting you that,” she said, the words coming out forcefully. “Even if you’re not.”

Sokka stared down at his book, the bad feeling back. That same, bad, gasping sort of panic. The not knowing was so much worse. Sure, maybe Zuko was fine, and had just gotten back with his Sozin friends and decided Sokka was beneath him. But-- even if that was true-- some part of Sokka needed to know he was safe. Some stupid part of him that had been worn out and frayed by worrying over Yue, worrying over over all the people he loved, who struggled and suffered against everything the world threw at them.

Suki was watching him closely. The old cuckoo clock on the wall started chiming the hour. Nine o’ clock. “You okay?” she asked.

“You remember Yue?” Sokka asked, breaking the words through the lump that had been stuck in his throat all week. He never, ever talked about this.

“Of course,” she said, her voice softening a little.

Maybe it made him pathetic. But that would be enough, just to know this time.

And if, in some outlandish scenario, Zuko wasn’t actually safe or okay? Sokka would never forgive himself.

“I think… I think I have to go find out if he’s all right,” he said. Even just saying those words out loud provided a little bit of relief. He reached over toward the couch to grab the jacket he’d flung there earlier.

Suki grabbed his hand. “Sokka, it’s not your personal responsibility to help every person in the world who’s going through something shitty,” she said. “What happened with Yue… that wasn’t your fault. Zuko… I don’t know. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Sokka looked at his best friend, at their interlaced hands. He couldn’t help but flash back to wilted, devastated Suki, all through last year after Kyoshi had shattered her heart. That relationship had carved deep grooves into her. She was trying to protect him the best way she knew how. He squeezed her hand tight, then let it go. “I gotta know, Suk. I can’t just unhear what he told me and then never see him again.”

She nodded. The room around them felt incredibly quiet, despite the ticking of the clock, the moans and groans of the wind blowing against the windows.

“Am I being dumb?” he asked.

“Yes. For sure. But Sokka…” Suki met his eyes, and finally, smiled. “You’re like a freaking bomb-sniffing dog for human tragedy. If you think something’s up and you want to check, well, you gotta check.”

Sokka smiled back, the tension in his belly receding slightly. “Put that on my tombstone,” he said.

“Here lies Sokka. Beloved brother, caring friend, bomb-sniffing dog for human tragedy.” She stood up, stretched, grabbed her high-tops.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m going with you,” she said. “If you’re gonna go off and try to protect every vulnerable person in the world, someone has to look out for your dumb ass.”

He really fucking loved Suki sometimes. “My dumb, hot, ass.”

“Easy there, Tiger,” she said, shutting her calc book and organizing her notes. “What’s the plan?”

Sokka thought for a long moment. He wanted to make sure Zuko was okay, and he wanted to make sure Azula didn’t know. There was only one person who could help. One chaos gremlin with the skills and connections.

Toph answered her phone after several rings. “What’s up, Señor Boomerang?” she asked.

That one was new. “Toph, uh… you remember your way around Sozin, right?” he asked.

There were odd thudding sounds coming from her end of the call. “Yeah. Why?”

Sokka patted the pocket of his jacket, making sure the keys to his truck were in there. “I wanna go see Zuko. Me and Suki are gonna drive over to Sozin but I have no idea how to find his dorm or if they’ll let me in or anything like that.”

Thunk. Thunk. “Well, well, well,” said Toph. “Sounds like you need ol’ Toph Beifong’s sneakin’ around Sozin skills.”

Thunk. “What’s that noise?” Sokka asked.

“Aang’s teaching me how to shoot a basketball,” she said.

Sokka had to smile, imagining Aang and Toph shooting hoops in the horrible February weather. “Can I come pick you up?” he asked. “You have a curfew?”

“Not tonight. My parents are asleep and think I am too.”

Sokka had to admire her balls. Well, whatever the non-gendered term for balls was. “Where are you?”

“We’re at the park near my house. Aang, you wanna come do a crime?” she yelled. Sokka held the phone away from his ear, wincing.

“What kind of crime?” came Aang’s voice faintly in the background. The thunking sound stopped.

“Breaking into Sozin Academy. Don’t worry, it’s for love,” Toph called back.

“Whoa whoa whoa, who said anything about breaking in?” Sokka asked. “And who said anything about love?”

“Breaking in?” Suki asked, reacting to Sokka’s side of the conversation, pausing in tying her hair back in a messy topknot. “Love?”

“Obviously, we’re breaking in, and obviously, it’s for love. Aang’s coming too. Just text him when you’re close, we’ll wait outside the gate,” said Toph, and hung up.

Sokka stared at the phone for a long moment, wondering exactly what chaos he had unleashed. Still, now that they were in action, moving-- his friends at his back-- he already felt more like himself. He glanced at Suki. “Well… we’re gonna go get Toph and Aang, and just… drive to Sozin Academy and make sure Zuko’s alive, I guess.”

Suki sighed. “All right. I’ll make a playlist.”

They got ready to leave, Suki carefully repackaging the leftover burritos into her backpack, Sokka feeling more at ease with the worn, comforting fleece and denim of his jacket enveloping him. They were halfway out the door when footsteps came running down the stairs. Katara rushed in, raincoat in one hand, boots in the other. “We’re going to Sozin? Sokka, it’s after nine. On a school night.”

“How the fuck do you already know about this?” Sokka said, realizing that this situation had fully gotten away from him.

“Aang texted. Were you really gonna leave without me? I’m not missing out on team bonding.” She sat on the couch so she could shove her feet into her boots.

“Since when is my dating life a team bonding activity?” Sokka asked, throwing his hands in the air.

“Since you invited the whole team. Toph and Suki and I can beat up Zuko for what he texted you.” Katara stood back up, put her hands on her hips. “Well? Let’s go.”

He sighed. This was going to be a crowded ride.

*

It turned out to be even more crowded when Aang opened the door to the cab and a gray and white sheepdog mix barreled in.

“Jesus, you guys brought Appa?” Sokka said.

“We couldn’t just leave him alone in Toph’s neighborhood,” said Aang as he clambered into the truck. “Anyway, he loves car rides.”

“How was basketball?” Katara asked, grunting as Appa flopped all of his weight onto her and licked her face.

Aang grabbed the dog by his collar and hauled him off Katara. “Toph made three foul shots!” he said, giving Toph a hand in.

“Out of about a hundred attempts, but still, I’m pretty sure I’m a natural,” said Toph, and slammed the door behind her.

“That’s awesome, Toph,” Suki said. “Wait, how could you even tell where to shoot?”

“Aang climbed up to the backboard and banged on the rim with a wooden spoon,” she said, waving the errant spoon, probably stolen from her kitchen, now full of nicks. “Basically echolocation. I’m a bat now.”

“No. We’re bats now,” said Aang.

With everyone in, Suki setting the mood with soundtracks from heist movies on the playlist she'd been putting together for the last ten minutes, and Appa’s breaths coming hot on the back of his neck, Sokka set a course for Sozin. Toph’s part of town was a fancy gated community near the financial district. Not too far from the outlying area where the Jasmine Dragon (and a few other fancy shops), Sozin Academy, and an enormous golf course all sprawled, manicured and clean.

Time to start thinking strategy. “So Toph, what’s the story on Sozin after hours?” he asked. “We gonna be able to get in?”

“Well, it’ll be a little tricky,” Toph said. “I don’t totally know why this had to happen right this second.”

Sokka grimaced, glancing at Suki. “I know it’s dumb. I just had a bad feeling, like I had to do this now--”

“Are you kidding?” Toph said, an evil grin on her face visible from the rearview mirror. “That just makes it fun. So the front entrance of the grounds is gated, but that fence doesn’t extend around the whole property. We’ll go in down the service road.”

Suki had her phone out and was squinting at the satellite view of Google Maps. “Right, okay, I think I see it. On the east side?”

Toph nodded. “I used to go exploring around there between classes when I could get away from my fucking aide. God, I hated it there. They had all these special orders from my parents to keep me safe. A girl had no freedom. That shit doesn’t fly in public school.” She shook her head. “Anyway, we can park in the service lot. It’s not too far from the dorm building.”

“We going to be able to get into the dorms?” Sokka asked.

“Are you sure about this, Sokka?” Katara asked. “This is starting to sound like… an actual crime.”

“C'mon, would I lead Sokka astray?” Toph replied.

“Well… yeah,” said Katara, scratching behind both Appa’s ears. He let out a low whine of contentment. “You guys are hearing back from colleges in like two weeks. I don’t want you to jeopardize that just to make sure some entitled jerk is okay.”

Sokka glanced at his sister in the rearview, meeting her eyes for a moment, trying to convey how important this was to him. “It’ll be okay, Katara, I promise. And no one else has to come in if they don’t want.”

“Yeah, you can stay in the truck, Sweetness. The important thing is, I have this.” Toph took a weighty magnetic badge out from her wallet. “When they kicked me out, I never turned my badge back in. When they asked for it, I just told them I had already turned it in and someone on their end had probably lost it. They didn’t ask too many more questions, because my mom is… litigious.”

Sokka wondered what it would be like to have money, throw it around like it was power. “Why’d you keep it?” Suki asked.

“In case my future Science Bowl captain ever needed to break in to meet his star-crossed lover,” she said. “What do you think, dummy? In case I ever wanted back in. No mere walls can keep me out.” She laughed maniacally.

They were driving past the golf course, now, past a beautifully manicured pond half-frozen, visible in the gentle warmth of the streetlamps that lined the road. Definitely a more pleasant place to walk around at night than the port. Sokka felt nervous, until he remembered the nervous apology Zuko had given him. Sitting with together on the rock. The little jokes they’d made, everything he’d told him, holding him close. He steeled himself.

“Okay, Sokka, the turn’s coming up for the service road.” Suki said. “On your right.”

They drove down the dark road, lined with trees. Sokka started to see the dark shapes of ornate buildings up ahead, and little glowing blue lights on safety poles. “Think we’re almost here. Which lot did you say to park in?”

“Furthest one,” she said. “Security’s not gonna walk around here.”

“There’s security?” Katara asked, voice rising.

“Like, two guys that walk around. It’s a boarding school for rich kids, not Fort Knox.”

Sokka parked in the darkest corner of the furthest lot. He turned around in his seat. “All right. Not all of us should go. And we can’t bring Appa.”

“I can stay,” said Katara.

“Shocker,” said Toph.

“Don’t be an ass, Toph, this is serious,” said Suki. She looked nervous, but unbuckled and started to get out of the truck.

Toph shrugged and blew a kiss in Katara’s general direction. “I’ll stay with you, Katara,” said Aang. “Me and Appa will entertain you.”

“Aang, you got the stuff?” Toph asked.

“Oh, right.” He dug into the gigantic pocket of his hoodie and took out a plastic grocery bag.

“What’s that?” Suki asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Toph said, smiling her Chaotic Evil smile.

Sokka decided not to worry about it just yet. He tossed Katara his keys. She had her permit and he had been teaching her to drive the past few months. She didn’t quite have the hang of the clutch in the old manual truck yet, but still, he didn’t want to leave her stranded if anyone came nosing around. “We’ll be back soon,” he promised.

“You better,” she said. “I’m not bailing you out of jail.”

“Not gonna lie, I’d probably bail you out,” said Aang. Katara punched him in the shoulder. He grinned.

“Ready, team?” Sokka asked, shutting the driver-side door quietly as he could.

“Let’s fucking do this,” Suki said. They set off into the darkness, each holding one of Toph’s arms, led by her best memory of the winding paths through the trees and stones of the landscaping, toward Sozin Academy.

*

What felt like an eternity later, they had made it across the dark grounds toward the back of the dorm building. Their main obstacles had been tripping on leaves and roots in the darkness, though Sokka had had to grab Toph and duck them all behind a shrubbery for a few minutes when a heavyset security guard, flashlight beam bobbing along in front of him, had stopped to smoke a cigarette about twenty feet from them.

Once he moved on, singing You Give Love A Bad Name to himself in a thick Ba Sing Se accent (Sokka kind of liked him for that), they approached the building itself, still staying in the shadows.

“Okay, let’s be careful here,” said Toph, keeping her voice soft for possibly the first time in her life. “When I was here, the front door had a sign-in desk that usually has some work-study student sitting around, but this back door is just locked. Can one of you check if that’s changed at all?”

Sokka left them for the well-lit back entrance. Trying to look casual, confident, not like he was a vagrant, he walked past the back door, casually glancing over his shoulder. It seemed to just enter out into a regular looking dorm hallway, albeit one with nice wood paneling and a bulletin board on the wall with various cheerful posters on it.

“Looks pretty empty,” he reported back to the troops.

“All right,” said Toph. “I have no idea how the dorms are laid out or where Zuko’s is. You’re gonna have to figure that out on your own.”

“You’re not coming?” Sokka asked.

Toph smiled. She held up the bag Aang had given her, which Sokka now realized was full of Appa’s poop of the last few hours. “I have an appointment with Mr. Zhao’s classroom.”

Sokka and Suki exchanged glances. Maybe bringing a chaos gremlin as their scout hadn’t been such a great idea.

“I can feel you two looking at each other like my parents!” Toph said. “Zhao started this war when he made fun of me in class, and he escalated it when he got me expelled for one little revenge ant invasion.”

“All right, all right,” said Suki. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s go.”

Toph let them into the dorm hallway, the lock beeping as Toph’s swipe card turned its little light from red to green. “Stay in touch. If anyone gives you shit, pretend you’re day students working late on a project or some shit, the dorm staff doesn’t know the day kids that well. Just call me when you’ve kissed Zuko and made up or whatever.”

Sokka ignored that statement and the sad little hole it opened in his heart. “Keep your phone on silent,” he told her. “In case a guard hears you.”

“You act like this is my first rodeo,” she said, holding up one of her Airpods before sticking it in her ear. She punched him in the arm. “Go get ‘im. Good luck.”

And then he and Suki were alone in Sozin Academy. The dorm was quiet. They looked at each other. They’d been through a lot together, but this was very new.

Down the hallway, a student slammed out of a door room. She walked past them, nose in her phone, armload of books, paying them no attention. At least she was wearing sweatpants, which meant that maybe in the dorms, Sokka and Suki wouldn’t stand out in their very-not-uniform clothing.

“Okay. We gotta figure out how to find Zuko’s dorm I guess. Or someone who’s seen him at least.” Sokka bit his lip. “I bet all the students have a directory. Or maybe it’s online. If we could just find like a computer lab, or maybe an admin office or something, and figure out some way to get into the school file system, or something…”

“Or we could just look on here,” Suki said. She was looking at the dorm bulletin board. A flowery poster read, “Agni Floor 4 -- Friends 4ever!” Below was a handwritten list of students and corresponding dorm numbers.

“You genius,” he said. “Reading a sign.” The whole board was decorated with cheerful dorm rules, notices from “floor parents”, whatever those were, an infographic with tips for mental health during finals-- and floor-by-floor directories.

Sokka found Zuko’s name, up on the third floor in the boy’s wing. He prayed he didn’t have a roommate. “Shall we?” he asked Suki.

She was still standing in front of the “Friends 4ever” list. She looked at him, bit her lip. “I’ll go with you for sure if you want a buddy. But if you’d rather be alone, maybe I’ll-- go-- you know--”

“Say hi to Mai?” he guessed. She flushed. “Suki, you fox.”

“Just to say hi. And let the record show, I am truly ready to go with you if you want me to beat Zuko up,” she said. “I’m still not over it.”

“Go get her,” he said. The truth was, if Zuko was up there, then Sokka wanted to see him alone. Make sure he was safe, and if he was, ask him what the hell had happened. What had changed between the vulnerable but brave boy from the other night, and the one who had texted him the other day. There was only so much a guy could take.

They pounded fists and headed off in opposite directions toward the boys’ and girls’ wing respectively. Zuko’s room was 324. Sokka found a stairwell, and ran up the next two flights, his heart pounding as his brain flipped through alternate scenarios. If Zuko wasn’t here, maybe his dad had… kidnapped him? Leverage over his uncle? Or Azula would be running some kind of interrogation operation?

Or, he’d be there and fine and just not want to see Sokka, who emerged into the third floor hallway, breath coming hard. He tried to tell himself that, as long as Zuko was safe, it was fine. He could be mad and get over it (even though it would be hard to forget those tender, scary moments at the beach. The moments that Zuko, his nemesis, had opened up to him, trusted him.)

He turned the wrong way down the hall at first, the numbers going down instead of up, and had to double back. But soon, he was outside Zuko’s door, fear and anxiety at the highest they’d been all week. He knocked on the door, louder than he intended. What would he do if Zuko wasn’t there? What would he do if he was?

A confused voice from inside. “One sec.” Footsteps, and then there he was: Zuko, alive, safe, wearing a surprisingly tattered old pair of sweatpants and a green t-shirt, hair adorably rumpled.

Overwhelming relief made Sokka weak at the knees. “Uh, hi,” he said.

“What are you doing here?” Zuko said warily.

“Um, sorry to bother you, I--” Well, shit. Now this was embarrassing. Seeing Zuko in front of him, clearly in fine health, he realized how little he had thought this through beyond I have to make sure he’s safe. “I just, uh, got your texts and felt kind of concerned, so I just wanted to make sure-- uh… that everything was okay.”

Zuko squinted at him, like he was trying to interpret one of those Magic Eye drawings. “My texts from today?” he asked. “You could have just texted me back.”

Now Sokka was starting to feel a little angry. “I mean, not after you told me to get lost and then blocked me.” He raked a hand through his hair, ran his gaze up and down over Zuko one more time (okay, he really is safe. And looks very cute in pajamas.) “Anyway, I guess you’re fine, so I’ll head out.”

“Wait,” Zuko said, grabbing his arm. “Sokka. I didn’t block you. You’ve-- you’ve been ghosting me since Tuesday.”

“What? I’d never do that,” Sokka said, his voice heated, letting himself be pulled in a little despite the anger. The gravitational pull between them felt stronger than ever. Their gazes locked for a long moment. Heart racing, full of emotions he couldn’t name, Sokka just wanted to grab Zuko and hold onto him or yell at him or kiss him or -- okay, calm down, Sokka.

“Look, come in,” said Zuko, ushering him into the dorm room, taking a quick look around at the empty hallway first.

The dorm room was surprisingly plain for a school this nice. It was a single, twin bed in the corner, desk against the wall piled high with textbooks, fencing epee leaning against the bedpost, fencing mask hanging on the desk chair. The only art Zuko had adorned the wall with was a scary-looking blue mask.

“I didn’t block you,” Zuko said, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. “I-- you got all weird about my uncle and then stopped texting me.”

Sokka’s mind raced back through their texts. He’d read through them so many times that they were more or less burned into his brain. Had he said something weird about Iroh? He took out his phone. “What are you talking about?” he asked, handing his phone over to Zuko.

Zuko took it, read through their texts, his face tightening when he got to the part where he told Sokka he never wanted to see him again. “What the hell,” he whispered.

Sokka watched him closely. “What’s going on, Zuko?”

“I definitely didn’t text you that,” said Zuko, looking spooked. He pulled open his phone, pulled up his “Sokka” thread, and handed it over. There-- after their conversation about Zuko’s masked selfie-- there was some weird shit:

Zuko: Hey, did you still want to hang out on Thursday?
Sokka: ah darn i can’t do thursday anymore
Sokka: this weekend?
Sokka: hey also how’s your uncle’s trip going?
Zuko: I think okay. I haven’t heard much. He said he’s getting what he needs.
…
Sokka: cool cool cool good to know. Hey where in hong kong is he going?
Zuko: Uh, I’m not really supposed to talk about it.
…
…
…

Zuko: Hey, just checking in. Did you still want to hang out this weekend?
…
…
…
…
…

Zuko: Hello?
…
…
…
Zuko: Did I say something wrong?

The last message was from just a few hours ago. Sokka’s skin was crawling, both at the creeping horror of seeing these texts ascribed to his name-- and not a bad imitation of his texting style, either-- but also at imagining Zuko, poor awkward Zuko, reading these, unsure what to do. Feeling the same things he had been feeling the last few days. He took Zuko’s phone, looked at the contact page for his name. “Dude,” he said. “That wasn’t me. This isn’t my number. Somebody’s been messing with your contacts.”

Zuko just looked at him. Several emotions seemed to pass across his face in quick succession.

“Also, I would never, like… pressure you to talk about the investigation stuff,” Sokka said, handing him the phone back.

Zuko looked through the texts again closely. “Fuck,” he said. Sokka had to admit, he had enjoyed the few times he had heard him curse. “Azula. She must be going through my phone. I need to tell Uncle.”

“So did… Azula sent these texts? To try to get more info about Iroh?” Sokka asked, the creeping sensation on his skin getting worse. “The ones to me, too?”

“She must’ve gotten like… a Google voice number or something. Then redone all of our texts. Blocked your real number.” Comprehension dawned on Zuko’s face. “I left my phone in the locker room during fencing.”

Sokka’s heart started pounding. “Zuko… like… why, though.”

All Sokka wanted was to see him angry, but Zuko looked exhausted more than anything else. “Smart of her,“ he said. “Isolate me from anyone who might care about me. Gaslight me. This is probably why she’s been so nice to me this week. She’s learned a lot from my dad.” It was really the dullness that got to Sokka, the acceptance. “I’m so sorry you thought I texted you that. I… I obviously want to see you again,” he added in a rush. “So, so much.”

“Dude, this is some psychotic shit. Don’t apologize.” Sokka couldn’t help his brusque tone. He felt dizzy with the realization that he had been right. That something had been horribly wrong. As relieved as he felt to see Zuko again, to know he hadn’t fucked things over, the scenario he’d walked into was really starting to hit home.

This whole thing was so utterly fucked. Sokka took Zuko’s phone again, typed in his real number. It didn’t recognize it as a contact, but it was blocked. He unblocked it.

“You know what, though,” said Zuko. “I think this means that they’re getting desperate, if she’s going through my phone. Uncle says he’s very close to having enough to pull the trigger.” He put his arms around himself. “My dad is probably putting a ton of pressure on Azula right now. It’s no wonder she’s been freaking out lately. She’s been trying to get Ty Lee to get stuff out of me, too.”

To be honest, even if Zuko was right, Sokka couldn’t give two shits about Azula right now. She wasn’t the one who had gotten a face full of boiling water from their father.

He saved his number into Zuko’s phone as a new contact, putting in the name as “Wang Fire,” the first name that occurred to him. “Look, there,” he said, handing Zuko the phone. “Now you can text the right person.”

Zuko smiled faintly at the pseudonym Sokka had chosen. He took the phone, clicked back through the fake texts, shaking his head. Sokka couldn’t help but think about Katara, waiting down in the truck. Having his back even though she was scared. Couldn't imagine what it would be like to feel that kind of betrayal from family.

“So… you got that text, and still decided to come check up on me?” Zuko asked after a long silence, finally dropping the phone on his desk like it nauseated him.

Sokka’s face heated up. “I mean… only because I wasn’t sure if you were safe. If you had really wanted me gone, I’d be gone. I just… after what you told me... it was hard for me to not know… if you were okay.”

It was so stupid, but there was a lump in his throat as he said it. He set his jaw so he wouldn’t cry. He had cried after Yue was gone, once, weeks later, at the beach with Katara, so worn down by the uncertainty, so frayed at the edges, that he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

But this wasn’t like that, he told himself. Zuko was here, safe, and didn’t hate him. Still, his face must have crumpled a little or something, because Zuko reached out, pulled him in close. “Hey,” he said, his hands circling gently around the back of Sokka’s neck. “Hey, it’s okay. Look, we figured it out-- you figured it out-- I can give my Uncle a heads up-- and we’re both okay. Right?”

Sokka tried to relax. “Right.”

Zuko held him closer. Sokka thought of their hug on the beach. It was an odd reversal of that moment. Sokka hadn’t been held, comforted like this in a very long time. The other boy twined his fingers through his wolftail. “I’m really glad you came. I’ve never, uh… other than my uncle, I’ve never really had anyone looking out for me like that before.”

That statement created a squeeze in Sokka’s heart, and his voice came out fierce, too fierce, when he said, “Well, you fucking do now.”

Zuko looked up at Sokka with a softening expression. “What?” Sokka said, his heart beating hard in his throat.

Zuko smiled. “I think you might be the most caring person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

Those words cracked something open in Sokka. He couldn’t quite bear not kissing Zuko any longer, so he grabbed him by the waist and pulled him in close. The room disappeared around them, the walls and furniture melting away, the fear and uncertainty of the past few days sublimated by the heat of their mouths meeting.

It was different from the beach. That had felt like a shy, tentative question and answer. This was urgent, scary, almost, spurred by the fear and doubt that had descended onto them the previous few days. Sokka kissed Zuko like he was scared he might disappear at any second. It was hard to believe after assuming the worst that he was here, real, in his arms, responding in kind.

At some point, helped along by Sokka kicking off his boots, they tumbled onto the bed. “This is nicer than that rock at the beach,” Zuko said, pulling him down, smiling a little.

Sokka bonked his head into Zuko’s affectionately, running his hands over the other boy’s arms. “Don’t knock that rock. That rock is my buddy.”

“So how’d you even get here?” Zuko asked, not waiting for an answer before their lips were entangled again.

“We kind of broke in a little,” Sokka said several moments later, breath coming hard. He tried to remind himself that they probably shouldn’t just be horny idiots. He didn’t want to leave here, but he knew he was operating on borrowed time with his friends scattered around the Sozin Academy grounds. “By the way, we should talk. Are like… we ever going to be able to actually hang out for real without like, a slight heist? Or is Azula going to find a way to blow that up too?”

Zuko stilled below him on the bed. “I”m sorry,” he said, finally. “Um, this must have been really stressful.”

“No, I didn’t mean like… I’m not mad or anything, I just… I’m worried about you,” Sokka said back, letting his head flop down against the other boy’s chest.

Zuko was silent and still a long moment. He took Sokka by the chin, met his eyes. “I wasn’t lying when I said Uncle was close. Like, days close. He’s on his way back from Hong Kong tonight.”

Sokka nodded, his stomach twisting when he remembered Azula’s attempts to imitate his texts.

Zuko continued, stroking Sokka’s cheek with his thumb as he talked. “I don’t want Azula to know we figured out her game and find some other way to ruin things. If you can just hang on a little while... I think things will look really different really soon,” said Zuko. He brushed a few strands of hair that had worked their way loose out of Sokka’s face. “And truly, I have a handle on things, okay?”

Sokka nodded, though the thought of just letting things be was already making him nervous again. “As long as you realize you can, you know, ask for help,” Sokka said, realizing he probably sounded like Suki.

Zuko smiled, a little sadly. “I’m not used to that.”

Sokka nodded, closing his eyes, pressing his face into Zuko’s chest. He might not have been from a rich family, but every time he was around Zuko, he felt like the wealthy one when he thought about all the people that loved him and cared about him, that took his sadness personally. He wanted to share, give away, pour in some of the affection he was starved for. “I’ll still see you at nationals, though, right?” he asked.

He felt the low vibration of Zuko’s chuckle more than he heard it. “Yeah, we’ll be there for sure. Better hope we’re not in the same bracket. You’re not getting the jump on me with vulcanization again.”

“Oh, I’ll get the jump on you,” Sokka responded, unable to resist the invitation, leaning back in, hands tugging at his shirt.

They didn’t talk again for what felt like a long time.

At least, not until Sokka’s phone vibrated in his pocket. “You getting a call?” Zuko mumbled into his mouth.

“One more minute,” Sokka said, winding one hand around the back of Zuko’s neck to bring him closer again. He knew that he'd led his friends into this mess and he should get them out as soon as possible, but this moment felt precious, fleeting. He didn’t want it to end.

Unfortunately, despite the fact that he stopped the vibration, it started up again less than a minute later. “Shit,” he panted, glancing at the caller ID. It was Toph. “I should probably go.”

Zuko handed him his shirt, blinking like he was waking from a dream. “Um, I’ll see you at nationals. And I’ll text you, okay? And if anything weird happens, you can assume that I want to see you again and am not going to text any important criminal details.”

Sokka nodded, trying to bring himself back to reality, tugging his shirt and jacket on as quickly as he could. Nationals felt like a long time away. “Yeah, call me or text me, or, I don’t know, send a carrier pigeon or fucking email me from a secure server or something if you have to. SpaceSword69 at gmail. I don’t care if you’re not used to asking for help or having people look out for you or whatever. It’s happening, my dude.”

Zuko smiled, then jumped up from the bed. “Wait, that reminds me,” he said. He went to his backpack, rifled through it, and pulled out a long, thin box. “Can you give this to Suki? My fencing coach helped me pick it from his friend's shop.”

Sokka took the beautifully wrapped package, tucked it in the pocket of his coat. No time to open. “What is it?” he asked.

Zuko flushed. “Just tell her I’m really sorry,” he said, and squeezed Sokka’s hand.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzz. Damn his phone. “I’m serious,” Sokka said, catching hold of his face and leaning in close. “Keep Azula out of your phone, and get in touch if you need anything. Day or night.” He searched Zuko’s face with his, trying to tell him with his eyes, you don’t have to be alone.

Zuko nodded, his face pink behind his scar. “You’d better go,” he said. He kissed Sokka, once more, hard, on the lips.

Bzzzzzz. Bzzzz. “See you at nationals,” Sokka said breathlessly, and turned away before he could get any more distracted. He looked at his phone as he shut the door and walked down the hall.

Five missed calls from Toph. That probably wasn’t good. He looked back and forth-- the coast was clear-- and headed back into the stairwell, hitting redial. “What’s up?” he asked, trying to shake himself back to focus.

“Sokka, can you hear me?” she whispered.

She was using his real name. Not a good sign. “Barely. Where are you?”

“I’m hiding. And up a tree. Uh… somewhere on the grounds. I lost track. Turned out Zhao was still in his classroom when I got the window open and threw in the dog shit.”

Sokka sighed. There were definitely pros and cons to having friends. “Okay, uh… let me get in touch with Suki and find you.”

“Be careful, Zhao and the security guards are looking around for me on the grounds,” she whispered.

“You have at least a rough idea of where you are?” he asked.

“I can hear the stream,” she said. “And when I ran out from the class building I turned right. Just got kinda turned around in the trees trying to avoid Zhao. Shit, I hear someone.”

She hung up.

Well. This was gonna be fun. He stayed in the stairwell a moment to strategize, pausing to smile when he redid his wolftail, remembering Zuko carding his fingers through it.

But now-- business. He pulled up Find My Friends, then texted the groupchat.

sokka: ok good news zuko’s alive
sokka: bad news is we gotta find toph
sokka: suki holla if you’re getting these
katara: YOU LOST TOPH????
sokka: chill i see her on fmf
sokka: suki this better be alerting you
sokka: time to go
aang: Are we spamming toph’s screenreader?
sokka: just tryna keep her posted
sokka: and make sure suki gets a lot of fckin notifications
toph: Yes but can't talk
sokka: ok suki just meet back at the truck asap when you get these
sokka: security’s lookin for toph so be careful
katara: SECURITY KNOWS????

Well, that was probably about as much help as he was gonna get. He pulled Find My Friends back up. Taking a deep breath, he left the stairwell, looked around the dorm hallway (still empty, these kids didn’t seem to have that much of a night life), and then went out into the darkness of the manicured landscape surrounded by trees.

Right away he heard the sound of voices, saw the light of flashlight beams bobbing around the lawn. “I’m coming for you, Beifong, you blind little shit!” a deep voice called.

“I don’t think anyone’s aht here, Mr. Zhao,” said Singing Security Guard.

"I saw her with my own two eyes. I grabbed her through the window. She bit me. She's somewhere out here, Jansen. We're finding that little rat."

Sokka raised his eyebrows. That guy did not sound like the most mentally stable English teacher. Staying under the cover of darkness, he tried to turn his phone to orient his map with the buildings and Toph’s little blue dot. Okay. All he had to do was find his Earth Science genius/idiot… in the dark… before the guys with flashlights did.

He went wide from the buildings, going straight for the trees, planning to take the slower A + B sides of the right triangle to Toph and avoid the hypotenuse full of security guards. He kept his phone in his pocket so the glow wouldn’t attract anyone, praying that a flashlight beam wouldn’t make its way to him as he crept into the trees as quietly as possible.

Once he was so far he could only hear the indistinct voices of the security guys and Zhao, he relaxed a little. The ground among the trees was damp and slippery from the day’s rains, and he almost fell more than once. He took out his phone every few minutes to make sure he was honing in slowly on his friend.

Once his dot was almost on top of hers, he started to quietly whisper, “Toph, you there?”

She was up a tree, he reminded himself. He looked up, scanning as best as he could through the darkness, the waning moon providing a small amount of light through the trees.

One of his feet stepped down, harder, further than he thought-- into wetness. Well, there was the stream. He must be close. He followed alongside it, squishing in his boot. “Toph?” he whispered.

“Up here!” Finally, he heard her whisper. He looked up. There was his friend, cane collapsed and in her hand, huddled in the crook of a maple.

He helped her down from the tree, half-supporting her weight as she made the final descent. Ingenious to go up a tree when your search was on the ground, though from her shaking hands as she landed on the ground, and the way she clung to his arm afterward, she must have been scared without the solidity of the earth under her.

Or maybe she was just cold. Sometimes he wondered how much of Toph's bravado was genuine. “Thanks, Sokka,” she said.

“I got you,” he said. “C’mon, let’s boogie. We can go wide.”

“Who the fuck knew Zhao would be in his classroom this late?” she whispered as they picked quietly back the way Sokka had come.

“You bit him?” Sokka replied, wincing when his other boot made a loud crunch into an icy snowdrift.

“Yeah, he grabbed me through the window. I got away, though. Well, he can’t prove it was me unless he finds us,” she said.

They were close to the school again. All they had to do was get all the way back down the winding road to their parking lot, and they’d be golden. “C’mon, not far now, just gotta get to the truck,” he said, holding on to her arm.

That was when a flashlight beam hit them straight in the face. “YOU!” a voice came roaring up. It was Zhao. He must have been waiting silently, watching the boundary between the trees and the sparser landscaping.

“Oh shit,” Toph and Sokka said at the same time. Sokka turned, hauling Toph along with him, and sprinted toward the gravel road that led up to the school. He ran, arm in arm with his friend bumping along at his side. She was trusting him to be their eyes, and all he could do was hope and pray he wouldn’t knock her over, that they beat Zhao to the truck and start it up and get out of here…

That was starting to seem like a tall order. They were slower as a pair than one angry adult man. Sokka glanced over his shoulder as they ran. Zhao was gaining, another flashlight beam behind him gaining, too. It felt like a horrible physics problem. If one Sokka and one Toph travel at 5 meters per second and one Zhao travels at 7.5 meters per second, how royally fucked are they?. “Shit, shit, shit,” he whispered in rhythm of their footsteps as they ran, cold air stabbing into his lungs. “It’s too far.”

He stumbled, and they both fell against the gravel. “Sorry,” he panted, hands and knees stinging.

“No, me,” she said back, the footsteps behind them getting closer.

That was when a pair of beams-- so much brighter than the flashlights-- swung up the road to meet them. Sokka recognized his truck in a surge of joy.

The back door flung open. Suki leaned out. “Get in, get in!” she said.

Sokka didn’t need to be told twice. He more or less threw Toph into the cab, then dove in after her. “Drive, drive, drive!” he said.

Katara, tight-knuckled hands clutching the wheel, spun the truck around in the gravel. The tires made a horrible sound as she peeled back down the service road, saying “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck” on a continuous loop. Aang was next to her in the front, holding tight to the collar of a howling Appa.

Sokka watched through the back window as the pools of light from the flashlight beams behind them grew smaller, smaller, and then disappeared as the service road turned.

“Am I… Am I dead?” Toph asked.

“Everyone put on your seatbelts right fucking now!” snapped Katara.

Quickly, everyone in the back obeyed. They all stayed tense and silent until the moment Katara turned off the service road and back on to the main drag. It was like that moment popped a balloon: they all exploded into incredulous laughter.

“You guys, that was incredible,” said Sokka. “You came back for us.”

“We were watching your dots and we figured a ride might help,” Suki said. “It was all Katara, none of us can drive stick.”

“And I didn’t even stall,” his sister said proudly. At that moment, she slowed down for a red light-- too slow for second gear-- and the engine stalled out. “Whoops.”

“All right, we should switch drivers now that we’re on real roads,” Sokka said. “That was pretty good though, Learner’s Permit.”

“Pretty good?” Katara said, restarting the engine. “Pretty good? That’s all you have to say?”

“Okay. Really, really, really fucking good,” he said, meaning it. “Thank you.”

She parked in the empty lot of the closed Jasmine Dragon, and they all got out to reconfigure themselves into their more natural order. Heart still pounding, Sokka felt better behind the wheel of the truck, away from Sozin. They’d done it.

“Did you find Zuko?” Aang asked once they were settled back in and Sokka was driving them the hell away from this part of town. “And Toph, did your prank work?”

“Little too successfully,” said Toph. “This one really might have broken his brain. Especially since I don’t think he can prove it was me. Thanks for the Appa poop. Uh, and thanks for finding me, Sokka.”

Sokka smiled. “No man left behind.”

“No person left behind,” said Suki. “Really, how was Zuko?”

Sokka put on his blinkers. They were turning back onto the main highway that took them out of this little snake’s nest of beautiful landscaping and nightmarish families. “I found him… and he, uh, he actually was kind of in trouble, Azula hacked his phone.”

“Oh, shit!” Toph said. “I knew she was crazy but that is like… low.”

“I’m really, really glad we went,” Sokka said. “Thank you so much, you guys.”

Suki leaned her head onto his shoulder for a moment. “I’m glad too, then.”

He glanced at her. “You find your nerd?” he asked.

Suki nodded. Smiled a secretive smile to herself. “We mostly just talked. Her family shit is real, so we can’t really like… I don’t know. I think she needs a friend more than anything else. But we, you know, came to an understanding,” she said.

“Yeah, I bet you did,” Sokka said, unable to resist the joke, feeling giddy, light.

Suki punched him hard in the shoulder. “Jesus,” he said. “Oh, wait, Zuko had something for you,” he added. He handed her the narrow box wrapped in silver ribbon. He was glad it hadn’t fallen out of his jacket. The packaging alone was undoubtedly nicer than anything he’d ever given to Suki.

She frowned, pulling the ribbon gently out of its bow, and opened the package. Her eyes widened. “Oh my gosh,” she said, her voice unexpectedly soft. She took out a beautiful object-- long, thin, made of wood and metal, painted in brown and gold. She unfurled it, revealing it to be a heavy metal fan.

“Whoa, that’s a Japanese war fan!” Aang said. “Those are so sick.”

“They’re called tessen,” Suki said reverently, turning it one way, and another. “Holy shit. This is from Zuko?”

“He said it’s from some friend of his coach's shop. And to tell you sorry,” Sokka said. He tried not to take his eyes off the road, but his best friend looked so-- so damned happy, like she was shocked that she was deserving of something so finely made. Honestly, Zuko might be hot and smart, but it was these moments of surprising kindness that really stuck with him. “Lil nicer than my attempt at sewing your Kyoshi fan, eh?”

“It’s not the Kyoshi fan, it’s the captain fan,” Suki said, barely looking at him, pulling the fan open, shut, open. It had a real heft to it.

“Well, maybe this one is the Suki fan,” Sokka said back.

He felt so happy he could burst. He looked back in the rearview at his friends, at Toph smiling, relieved, her feet kicked up on the back of Suki’s headrest, at Katara and Aang, leaning on Appa, holding hands-- wait. Holding hands?

He met eyes with Katara in the rearview mirror. Raised his eyebrows. Her face flushed. She let go of Aang’s hand and pushed her hair behind her ears.

Well. This might be interesting. But that was a question for another time. “Suki, you still got those ‘ritos?” Sokka asked. For the first time in days, he was hungry. Famished, actually. He took the burrito she handed him and took a huge bite.

“We should go get McDonald’s,” said Katara.

“McDonalds!” said Toph. “Yes, Sweetness!”

“I’m starving,” added Aang.

“We have food at home,” said Suki, for the meme, but she was already pulling up Google maps.

“Let’s do it,” Sokka said. They had music, and they had more adventure to talk about, and they had each other. Between the thrill of their escape, and the rush of seeing Zuko-- knowing he still cared-- Sokka felt like he could burst with happiness. The dark highway opened up before them, divider lines pounding by in rhythm, in the gentle yellow glow of old truck’s headlights.

Chapter Text

Sokka’s nose left a print on the airplane window as he stared down at the peaks and ridges of the Rockies below. It was a week later, Thursday afternoon, and they’d be landing in Denver soon. After that, a drive out to Boulder, and then three days of Science Bowl competition.

Well, two if they didn’t advance beyond quarters, but Sokka fully intended to make it back to the championship round.

He hadn’t been on a plane since they had last qualified for nationals two years ago. Before that, he had only ever flown once, a trip to visit Kya’s family in Alaska, when he was eleven and Katara was ten.

Thinking of that trip hurt his stomach a little bit-- that was right before his mom got diagnosed-- so instead, he focused on the present, the excitement of being in the sky with his friends, everyone deep into books and printouts doing last minute studying (or in Toph’s case, mainlining podcasts about plate tectonics). Focused on the fascination of being miles above the earth, soaring through the air. He knew so much more about physics and flight and aerospace engineering now than he had even two years ago.

“Physics, short answer,” he said, tearing himself away from the window and turning back toward his friends. “Whose theorem of fluid dynamics explains how airplanes generate upward lift to fly?”

“Let’s see. That’d be Bernoulli’s?” Aang asked. He was in the aisle seat just across the way, Bumi snoring and Suki studying with her headphones on in between them. He wouldn’t take AP Physics till next year, but he’d been reading about it on his own, knowing that he’d need a solid basis in it no matter what he wanted to study (and knowing that Sokka would be graduating this year).

Sokka pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “So proud of my physics son. Although, actually, fun fact, Bernoulli’s theorem doesn’t fully explain why the higher velocity on top of the airfoil brings lower pressure underneath it--”

“Oh my God, Sokka,” Katara, sitting between Toph and Aang, reading through her well-worn color-coded Latin and Greek roots packets. “Please don’t talk about all the nothingness keeping us in the sky right now.”

“It’s okay, Katara,” Aang said, smile innocent but eyes wicked. “Just because there’s no universally agreed upon theorem marrying Bernoulli’s principle and Newton’s third law that fully explains why planes can fly upside down... doesn’t mean we’re not safe all the way up here in the stratosphere.”

Katara put her hands over her ears. “Toph,” she said. “Can you please give me some nice, solid, reassuring earth facts?”

Toph took out one of her Airpods. “Sorry, Sweetness, I’m deep into supervolcano territory right now,” she said.

Katara toyed with her blue highlighter, chewing on her lip the way she did when she couldn’t decide if she was scared or irritated. She’d been nervous about this flight all week.

Aang tucked one of his arms around hers, a comforting gesture, a friendly one he might have given to anyone on the team who was feeling unsteady. (Sokka still hadn’t forgotten the time they’d all gone to see some horror flick Toph wanted to listen to, and Aang sat between him and Katara, holding their hands when they got scared.)

Still, Sokka couldn’t help but notice the faint blush that appeared on her cheeks. “Want to tell us some scary bio facts?” Aang asked.

Katara thought for a moment. “Well… did you know there’s more bacteria in your mouth than there are people in this whole country? Like, over a billion?”

“Great,” Aang said. “Now I’ll never feel lonely again.”

Katara laughed. She kept her arm linked with his as she picked her dog-eared list of prefixes and suffixes back up.

Sokka raised his eyebrows, went back to the book about exoplanets he’d been reading. He’d asked Katara about Aang after they had dropped everyone else off after their team bonding/boarding school heist adventure. “I don’t know,” she said. “We had a moment.”

“A moment, huh?” Sokka had asked, grinning.

“Just-- a moment. I don’t know, Sokka, everything’s so confusing right now.” Katara shook her head. “The whole Jet thing really messed with my head, we’ve got nationals in a week, you’re in this whole weird--” She made a hand gesture that seemed to be supposed to convey the mess he was in with Zuko. “Situation… I don’t know what to make of any of it. Aang’s my best friend.”

Sokka shrugged. “You could do worse. You’ve done worse.”

She punched him in the shoulder.

“And Aang definitely doesn’t mind, what was it? Womanly work?” Sokka had added. “This is why he’s Gran Gran’s favorite.”

“Oh, my God, Sokka, just take me home. It’s after midnight and I have a chem exam tomorrow,” she had said in exasperation, and that was the last Sokka had gotten out of her about Aang.

Still, it was kind of fun watching them circle each other like nervous little rabbits. He nudged Suki, who looked up from her handwritten math flashcards and “formulae” playlist. She followed his gaze toward Aang and Katara and gave him an eyebrow raise back.

Beside them, Bumi snored loudly. Monk Gyatso, their parental chaperone for this trip since Toph’s mom had to be in court on Friday, had been found so charming by the flight attendants that he’d been bumped up to one of the empty first class seats. Luxury was wasted on the frugal.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be starting our initial descent shortly,” crackled the captain’s voice over the PA.

Sokka nudged Suki again, who took off her comically large headphones. “What’s up?” she said.

“We’re landing soon. Talk strats?”

Suki took out the printout of the bracket-- as well as the list of other schools at the competition, cross-referenced with last year’s nationals results-- that they’d put together in Omashu’s crappy computer lab. The bracket was already covered in Sokka’s sloppy scribbles where he’d gamed out different scenarios.

“Pool play tomorrow,” said Suki. “Gonna be a long day.” Forty-eight teams were entered in the competition, divided into eight pools of six. Tomorrow, they’d play five games. At the end of the day, with pool play results locked in, the teams would be re-seeded to form a bracket.

Sokka flipped through the team list. “Don’t think anyone crazy is in our pool, none of these regions have made any noise at the last few nationals.”

Suki nodded, flipping through the team list. “That’ll be a good chance to get Aang and Toph some real time in game,” she said.

“For sure. Bracket’ll be a little tighter.” The top three teams from each pool-- thirty-two total-- would advance to a single elimination bracket. The true March Madness, Sokka liked to say, now that it was March.

“Anyone we’re likely to see early?” Suki asked.

“If we win our pool, we’ll see the third place finisher in Pool D first.” He showed her the top scenario he had gamed out. “I don’t think play-ins will be an issue. Pre-quarters will be where things start to heat up a little.”

“When would we see Sozin?” Suki asked.

Even without all the bad blood between the two teams, it was a fair question. Either Sozin or Omashu had been in the top three at nationals the past three years. That was the whole reason they were both here this year.

Sokka had spent an embarrassing amount of time gaming out the scenarios in which they’d be likely to play Sozin again. The idea made his whole body tense. He didn’t want to have to face up to Zuko, not with everything he knew was going on. (Though he’d pay good money to see the look on Azula’s face after she lost again.)

He cleared his throat. “If everything goes to seed, not till finals. We’ll cross that bridge when it’s burning.”

Suki nodded. She took a deep breath. “We out here,” she said.

The plane tilted into a more noticeable descent. Katara let out a small eep. Next to them, Bumi snored himself awake. “What did I miss?”

“Just strats, Bumi. Just strats,” said Suki.

Sokka put all his scribblings back in Suki’s folder. As the flight attendants started moving through the cabin collecting trash, he settled back into the seat to try to relax. His phone was in airplane mode, but he went and looked back at his latest texts from Zuko, from earlier that day.

zuko: Boulder is really pretty.
zuko: [picture of a sunset from the top of a hill]
zuko: Can’t wait to see you, Wang.
sokka: please, call me mr. fire
sokka: and you too
sokka: :) :) :)

Sokka touched the picture, wishing it was of Zuko instead. Still, he’d managed to get through the last two weeks of… of whatever they were right now. Nemeses with benefits, as Toph had coined lately? Star-crossed lovers, as Suki kept saying?

Whatever they were, it had been heavy on Sokka’s mind. But he’d gotten through it knowing they’d see each other here in Boulder.

He went back to staring out the plane window, watching the mountains, bigger and grander than anything back East, grow closer, closer.

*

The good news was that the Omashu school district had paid for their plane tickets and lodging. The bad news was that their budget was, at best, unglamorous, and Aang had insisted on using most of the supplemental income they’d earned by baking cookies and selling them on the steps of the school on carbon offsets for the plane ride. (To be fair, he’d baked most of the cookies.)

It had been cheaper to fly into Denver, rent a minivan, and drive to their motel in Boulder, which had been selected for its low price, free breakfast, and twenty-minute proximity to the conference center where Science Bowl Nationals were being held.

By the time they landed, picked up their white van-- which, other than the windows, didn’t not look like a kidnapper van-- and hit the road, it was getting late. A dangerous combination of hanger and jet lag was settling down on the team. It was barely eight PM Mountain Time, but that was ten o’clock back home, and after a long day.

Sokka felt better after they ate drive-thru burritos in the parking lot of a strip mall. Afterward, they managed to get back on the highway going the correct way without dying-- which was a closer call than it might have been, with Bumi behind the wheel and Gyatso attempting to navigate with a paper road atlas he’d found under the seat.

But once they were underway, their team grandpas at the front talking quietly about each of their varied adventures in the Himalayas, everyone settled in for the drive. Katara, who had barely slept with flight nerves the last few nights, fell asleep immediately. Aang wasn’t long after.

Sokka texted Zuko.

sokka: wang fire checking into the great state of colorado
sokka: u definitely oversold the beauty aspect
sokka: so far most of the nature we’ve seen has been the raccoons in the chipotle parking lot where we ate dinner

Weird orange light from the streetlights came in and out of the car as Bumi navigated them down a highway full of strip malls, stopping at stoplight after stoplight. But Sokka didn't mind the stopping and starting, not once his phone vibrated.

zuko: Isn’t wildlife beautiful?
sokka: gorgeous
sokka: u nervous for tomorrow?
zuko: A little. You?
sokka: nah we got this.
sokka: what timeblock is your pool in? maybe we can say hi between rounds :)
zuko: We’re on the A block. That’d be nice :)
sokka: ah shit
sokka: we’re in B block, that’s gonna be rough
zuko: Maybe I’ll just come watch you play for a round ;)
sokka: nemesis, u are not permitted to distract me
zuko: G2g

Sokka put away his phone, a little deflated. Having offset schedules tomorrow, with Omashu’s rounds on the hour and Sozin Academy’s on the half hour, meant they’d be in competition all day without an easy time to sneak off and say hi.

But more than that, it was the sudden end to the conversation that threw Sokka off. He knew Zuko had to dip suddenly from their conversations sometimes, to throw off a suspicious Azula. He knew it was to protect him, that Sokka was a weak point in the Zuko vs Azula battle that could be exploited. As he had said to Sokka on the phone the one night he had called from his uncle’s and they talked for an hour (mostly about physics, some about TV, and a tiny bit about Azula), “She’s noticing I seem happy and is very suspicious.”

Which was, frankly, demoralizing to hear.

But still. Sokka was trying to understand. Trying to wait it out. And glad for the sporadic bits of Zuko he was getting here and there. He was starting to learn about the kind heart (and adorable levels of awkward nerdiness) hidden beneath the sharp intelligence and unsettling backstory of his nemesis. They’d talked on the phone twice, texted most days, barbed each other with increasingly elaborate insults about Science Bowl and about Toph’s narrow escape from Zhao.

He would have said he was falling for him, but the -ing there implied there might be a way back out. This felt… like the fall was already in progress. Couldn’t be stopped. Reaching terminal velocity.

“Yo, Captain Boomerang,” whispered Toph, “You wanna hit me up with some more of those chips?”

Sokka, glad he wasn’t the only one awake, handed Toph the greasy bag of tortilla chips from their drive-thru adventure. Here he was angsting, when he could have been eating snacks. Sometimes he wished he could be more like her. Live by the Toph code: eat snacks, call people by the wrong names, prank your enemies, get away with it.

Zhao had called her mom the day after the boarding school incident. Reportedly, her mom had reamed him our with such dire threats of legal action-- and abject disbelief that her blind little flower could do such a thing-- that he had backed off. Still, Zuko had told Sokka that rumors were going around Sozin that a certain blind bandit had come back for revenge.

Honestly, it warmed his heart. He ruffled her hair as she put a salsa-laden chip into her mouth, overcome with affection for a moment. Then something occurred to him. “Toph,” he said. “Why do you call me Captain Boomerang?”

Toph wrinkled her face at him. “Well… you’re like Aang. But old. I thought that was obvious.”

Sokka rolled his eyes. He was sorry he’d asked. But he took a handful of chips, and they talked in low voices so as to not wake their sleepy friends, all the way to the motel that would be their home for the next three nights.

*

“Good morning, my beautiful regional champions,” Katara said bright and early the next morning, yanking open the curtains, already dressed and wearing makeup. “Time to get up and kick ass.”

Everyone else groaned. The school had paid for two bedrooms for the team-- one for the girls, one for the boys, one for the coach and chaperone-- but Sokka and Aang had ended up in the girls’ room, too, both beds pushed together, sleeping in a crowded puddle. When else would it be like this, all of them together?

They ate a hasty breakfast of motel waffles and crappy coffee (Suki made them all eat a handful of walnuts from her backpack, too, for protein), passing around Katara’s Latin and Greek roots pamphlets and Aang’s sprawling doodles of nuclear fission byproducts. Their first round was at nine AM sharp.

After the previous night’s van shenanigans (or, shevanigans as Aang kept referring to them) Suki kindly but firmly insisted on navigating to the conference center. So instead Monk Gyatso sat in the back, quizzing them all on chemical formulae on Suki’s notecards and continually reminding them all that no matter what happened during the competition, knowledge was its own reward. “Winning is not the most important thing,” he said.

“Then why do you cheat at Pai Sho so much?” Aang asked him, grinning.

“Pai Sho is merely a construct of our minds, Aang, and cheating a label applied by someone caught in that construct like a fly in a web,” Gyatso replied back serenely, before breaking out into laughter.

Sokka was so glad he’d come along as the chaperone. Having Gyatso along did a lot to dispel the pre-nationals nerves that had settled over the group.

At least, until they entered the Boulder conference center. It was way, way bigger and newer than Sokka expected, a big glass atrium full of chrome columns and tasteful snake plants, with hallways radiating off it like spines off the urchins that clustered in the tide pools on Sokka’s beach at the lowest low tides.

All around them, teams in groups of four or five milled aimlessly, or moved with purpose toward the hallways. Rounds were starting soon. A huge banner-- bigger than Sokka’s truck-- hung across the center, proclaiming “Department of Energy -- National Science Bowl -- Welcome, competitors!”

Everyone slowed down and stopped, looking up at the sign or around the clean, futuristic atrium full of people. Even Toph seemed to sense what a large space they’d entered.

Noticing the nerves settling back in over his team, Sokka spoke up. “Well, I think they probably need a bigger sign,” he said. “I almost thought we were in the wrong place.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You’re telling me there’s a sign?” said Toph. “Are these people made of money?”

“They’d better have Go Ba Sing Se Bears mugs for if we win, that’s all I’m saying,” said Aang.

Sokka grinned. He could always count on his team to run with a dumb joke.

Also, to run a little late. It was 8:50. Suki had already made a beeline for the captain’s table at the front of the room. They followed her there, where a scarily efficient woman with a nametag that read Joo Dee gave Suki a pamphlet with a schedule (like they hadn’t already printed their own) and a map of the conference center (okay, that one was useful).

Five games in six hours, an hour for lunch. It was going to be a bear of a day. “All right. Battle plans, everyone,” Sokka said as Suki led them toward the site of their first room. “The good news is, me and Suki have done all the legwork already. You don’t have to do a thing except show up and answer questions.”

“You already always do all the legwork,” Katara pointed out, not unreasonably.

Sokka sighed. They walked down one of the hallways, watching the numbers on the small conference rooms tick up. “But this time we did, like, a lot of legwork. Appreciate us.”

“We appreciate you, Sokka and Suki,” said Aang, arm in arm with Toph.

“We’ve done a little research on the other teams in our pool, but we don’t have much. All we can do is take notes during bonuses, mind your blurts, and stay level. It’s just another practice, right? Anything to add, co-captain?”

Suki pulled the heavy new fan out of her pocket. It wasn’t as good for snapping open and shut as the paper and bamboo fan had been, but it had heft and she had taken to slapping it across her hand when she wanted to punctuate a point. “Let’s fucking do this,” she said.

*

“Earth Science, tossup, multiple choice. What type of drainage is created inside a landslide where there is no discernible pattern to the drainage? W, annular, X radial, Y, deranged, Z-- Interrupt, A3.”

“Deranged,” said Toph, her face flushed with focus. Sokka couldn’t be more proud. She’d been pushing herself on interruptions at practice the last couple weeks, and it was paying off.

“Correct,” said the judge. “Bonus, short answer. What is the term for a spherically-shaped, dense group of up to a million stars that are thought to share a common origin?”

Aang and Suki looked toward Sokka by habit, the space nerd. “Uh, definitely some kind of cluster,” he said. “It’d be globular, association, or open.”

“He said spherical,” said Suki. “Probably globular, right?”

“Probably,” Sokka said. He wasn’t a hundred percent, but he rarely was. Ninety would do.

It was round four, and the team had been having a solid day. The fluorescent lights of the conference rooms were giving Sokka a slight headache, or maybe that was the altitude in Boulder, but he had been so focused all day he barely noticed. They had a close win over their second team-- Suki had nabbed a smooth interruption about ketones that had sealed the deal-- and they were up two tossups and a bonus on this team late in the second half.

“Globular cluster,” said Suki. Across the room, one of the other players groaned.

“Correct,” said the judge. Okay, two tossups and two bonuses. Two minutes left-- if this was regionals, the round would have been over already, but at nationals, halves were ten minutes. Their lead was solid, but they’d need to stay focused. “Biology, short answer. Mast cells are responsible for releasing what important signaling molecule that triggers vasodilation and inflammation?”

Sokka heard Katara sigh from the other side of the room at the bio question. She’d subbed out for Sokka at the half. They were trying to give Aang and Toph a big day, since as they got further in the bracket, Sokka and Katara probably wouldn’t sub out.

The other team’s captain buzzed. “Histamine,” he said, in a thick southern accent.

“Correct,” said the judge.

While the other team worked through their bonus, Sokka tore his eyes away from the clock and stretched, trying consciously to relax himself. No point waiting tensely for the end; it was important to stay loose but focused during a tight finish like this. He glanced back toward Katara, the only one who would have gotten that toss-up... and his eyes grew wide.

Zuko was there, in the back of the room, leaning against the wall. He caught Sokka’s eyes, gave him one of his quirked little smiles, and jerked his chin toward the front of the room.

Right. Pay attention. Unable to stop grinning, Sokka tried to refocus, especially when the other team got their bonus, narrowing Omashu’s lead. One minute left. “Physics, multiple choice.” Sokka readied his hand on the buzzer. They needed this one, and if Zuko saw him tackle a question with ease, well, all the better. “Which of the following is the unit of the product of resistance and capacitance? W, Farad, X-- Interrupt, A1.”

Sokka had buzzed without thinking. This was an easy one. The product of resistance and capacitance was just the RCM time constant. In seconds. Except--

It was multiple choice. His answer had to be exact. Shit, would they want “seconds” or “second”?

Suki sucked in her breath, looking at him.

“A1,” the judge said to him, again.

Sokka shook his head. “Second,” he said, crossing his fingers under the table.

“Correct,” said the judge.

Sokka heard Katara’s muffled “Yes!” in the background, but no time to celebrate. That was probably the match, but if they got this bonus it’d be more or less locked in. “Bonus, multiple choice. Which of the following is the approximate distance in kilometers covered by a photon in one year? W, 9 thousand, X, 9 million, Y, 9 billion, Z, 9 trillion.”

Sokka turned to his teammates. He was so sweaty with relief after that near miss-- this game might have gone the other way if he’d gotten it wrong and given up an interruption penalty-- that his whole body felt fuzzy. “Uh, let’s think this one through.”

“Gotta be trillions, right?” said Aang.

“You know how big a trillion is, Twinkle Toes?” said Toph.

“Yeah, but photons are like… the fastest thing in the universe. Right?” said Aang. “They’re like the cheetahs of elementary particles.”

Suki couldn’t fight back a smile. She turned to Sokka. “Whatcha think?”

Sokka nodded. “Go with the cheetahs.”

“Z,” Suki told the judge, who nodded and marked down their points. The other team got the final question-- bonus too, Sokka had to admire them for staying in it-- but it was too late to mount more of a comeback than that. The round ended, bringing Omashu to 4-0 on the day so far.

Sokka paused for high fives with his teammates, and then, abandoning all pretense of casualness, went to find Zuko at the back of the room. He ignored Katara watching. “Hi,” he said, barely stopping himself short of grabbing him in a kiss. He wasn’t sure if they were there yet.

“Hi,” Zuko said back. It was so good to see his face again, especially when he broke out into a smile. He held his Sozin blazer at his side, the cuffs of his crisp white shirt rolled neatly up. “Um, nice catch on the Tau constant there.”

“You know me, I’m all about capacitance.” Sokka said, playing it off like he hadn’t gotten lucky on the second vs. seconds moment.

“I’m more of a resistance guy myself,” Zuko said, grinning.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you so irresistible?” Sokka’s mouth asked while his brain was too busy watching the slight dimples that had appeared on Zuko’s face to issue a veto.

The dimples got bigger. Zuko’s face turned pink.

“Sokka,” said Katara. “That was the worst thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

“No one asked you, Katara!” Sokka said, turning back toward his sister.

By now, the rest of the team had made their way back to the group. “Hi Zuko,” Aang said, never one to fail to pick up a new friend along the way.

“Uh, hi.” Zuko shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nice match, you’re all looking solid as per usual.”

“Thanks,” Suki said. “How’s today going?”

Zuko’s face tightened a little, but he shrugged. “We’re 3 and 0, looking good to lock down the pool. We actually have our fourth round in like--” He glanced at his watch-- “In like five minutes, I should probably start heading back.”

Damn these offset schedules. “I’ll walk you,” said Sokka.

“Zuko, um…” Suki hesitated. Then she met his eyes, offered her hand to his in an oddly formal gesture. “Thanks for the fan, that was really nice.”

“Oh.” Zuko’s face softened a little, like he hadn’t expected to be thanked. He shook her hand. “Uh, you’re welcome.”

Seeing his best friend and his nemesis/crush/star-crossed lover/whatever, palm to palm as friends, settled something in Sokka. He smiled. “C’mon, let’s get you back to your team,” he said. “Suki, just text me whoever you end up scouting next.”

“Will do,” she said. She and Sokka had been using the breaks between rounds to watch teams they might meet in play-ins and pre-quarters, figure out their strengths and weaknesses.

Sokka and Zuko walked quickly through the atrium together. They really were cutting it close between rounds. It made Sokka glow a little inside that Zuko had come to see him anyway.

Teams streamed in and out of the hallways into the large space, hurrying to their next rounds. Some (like Sozin) wore coordinated outfits or even school uniforms. Others (like Omashu) wore their own outfits. Sokka stood out in his lucky Hawaiian shirt, but if it had worked at regionals, it would work at nationals.

Being in the disparate crowd made Sokka feel a little anonymous, enough that he took Zuko’s hand as they hurried through the atrium together. “It’s good to see you,” he said.

Zuko smiled. “You, too.”

It was funny that they were acting a little shy together, considering everything that had happened over the last few weeks. But it felt good just to be around each other, even just for a moment. Zuko led them down one of the hallways, radiating like a spoke from the atrium. “Where’s your next room?” Sokka asked.

“Down this hallway,” said Zuko. He appeared to be scanning the inside of the conference rooms that they passed. Finally, he stopped in front of an empty one, and pulled Sokka inside. Before Sokka even realized what was happening, Zuko had grabbed him, and yanked him close there in the dead space of the vacant conference room. He kissed him with an urgency that made Sokka smile at the same time that it made his belly flip. Sokka let himself tangle his hands in Zuko’s hair, relief sinking over him.

It had been hard to remember the last couple weeks that Zuko was real, felt the same, that he wasn’t just an absent and abstract person that Sokka had to add to his list of absent and abstract people to worry over. He was here, and they were together, even if just for a second.

Zuko stopped to take a breath, leaning his head against Sokka’s. "Hi," he said, resting his hands on Sokka's waist.

"Hi," Sokka said back, brushing Zuko's hair out of his face. He really needed a haircut, but Sokka kind of liked it this way.

Zuko glanced at his watch. “I should probably go,” he said softly.

“This is why your team needs an alternate,” Sokka whispered back.

Zuko chuckled, though his shoulders stiffened a little at the mention of his team.

“Everything okay?” Sokka asked, running his hands up and down Zuko’s arms.

“Yeah, just… everyone's a little tense,” said Zuko. He kissed Sokka one more time. “I can make it back from here, okay?”

Sokka nodded. So quick. “I’ll see you again soon, right?”

Zuko smiled. “For sure,” he said. “Keep in touch.” He squeezed Sokka’s hand and left.

Sokka stood there, alone, heart pounding, listening to the buzz of the fluorescent lights. There was so much he had meant to ask. What was the update with Ozai, with Azula? When would they be able to stop sneaking around, texting with fake names?

The fluorescent lights of the conference buzzed overhead, as if in unsatisfactory answer.

*

With round five under their belt by three PM, a perfect 5-0 record on the day, and a few hours to go explore Boulder (or splash in the indoor motel pool) with his friends, Sokka felt an exhausted contentment settle over him. “All right, time to go scout the last round,” he said. “Anyone else wanna come with me and Suki?”

“I’d rather scout out the dog park we passed on the way here,” Aang said.

Katara, Toph, and the chaperones all agreed that that was a better use of time. So it was just Sokka and Suki, deciding which of the final rounds of the day they wanted to catch the end of. They walked through the atrium, watching as teams, either shell-shocked by the day or celebrating a few wins, came in and out, or claimed sleek couches and futuristic looking pieces of seating as they waited on their captains to report results.

“Guess who’s on the showcase stage right now?” Suki said, her nose buried in the program. “Our favorite maroon-blazered sociopaths.”

“Oh, really?” Sokka asked, trying to appear at least somewhat casual. He was so preoccupied with nonchalantly glancing over Suki’s shoulder at the program that he almost walked into one of the columns randomly scattered throughout the fancy, futuristic atrium.

Suki grinned at him as he checked himself, avoiding the column. “Should we go watch?”

“I mean, I guess if you want to we can,” said Sokka. “If you’re gonna be all insistent like that. Twist my arm.”

“You jerk,” she said fondly, and led him into the larger auditorium that was acting as the showcase stage. This was where semis and finals would be held, but for now, they were just rotating pool play games through here, giving teams a chance to enjoy the spectacle.

Omashu hadn’t gotten any showcase time in pool play-- all their games for today had been in conference rooms-- but that was okay. Sokka intended for them to be there in semis and finals. Now that they were at nationals, all of the planning and work he and Suki had done since this summer-- all the work the whole team had done, studying and practicing all year-- it felt like enough. They had what it took.

They’d gotten to finals his sophomore year with Kyoshi at the helm. This year, they didn’t have a Kyoshi, sure, but they had a team. A really, really good one.

He and Suki walked into the brightly lit auditorium, sat somewhere in the middle in a sea of empty seats. Semis and finals would probably have a good number of spectators, mostly made of losing teams, but in these pool play games, it just seemed to be the active teams’ coaches and chaperones up near the front.

The Sozin students were on the A side of the stage. Sokka’s eyes went to Zuko first, of course. He was wearing his school uniform, like his teammates. He had his competition face on, the one where his eyes were so laser focused on the judge that it looked like he was trying to set her on fire with his mind.

Even from far away, it was pretty cute. Especially when Sokka wasn’t on the B side of the stage competing for the same questions.

The showcase stage had a scoreboard set up. The second half was just starting. Sozin was up, thirty-four to sixteen against-- Sokka checked his pamphlet-- Gaoling Regional High School, from the Midwest. Solid lead, but not insurmountable-- well, maybe against any other team. With Sozin up by more than two bonuses, Sokka didn’t like this Midwestern team’s chances.

“Toss-up, Physics, short answer,” read the judge. “In a totally inelastic collision, what happens to the two colliding objects?”

Zuko’s buzzer was lit by the time her lips had closed around the “s” in the last word. “They stick together,” he said after being acknowledged, nodded to himself when he was correct, and listened intently to the bonus.

They stick together. Sokka couldn’t help but wonder about the elasticity of his and Zuko’s collision. Would the force of it bounce them apart, equal and opposite directions, energy dissipating from the momentum of the crash? Or would they, too, stick together?

Christ. He had really spent too much time thinking about physics (and Zuko) lately.

Suki, meanwhile, seemed to be actually doing some scouting. “Hey, if this pool shakes out the way I think it will, we’ll see these guys in prequarters,” she said, nodding toward the Gaoling team, her phone open to the results website. “We should check out who their heavy hitters are.”

It was genuinely hard to tell. The Gaoling team got one Earth Science question (Sokka wrote that down on their program notes), but Sozin Academy got every other toss-up of the half: Mai sniped an interruption about linear correlation coefficients (Suki let out an appreciative “Damn,” on that one), and Ty Lee, after a long pause in which no one buzzed, managed to snare a multiple choice question about basophile granulocytes that Sokka wasn’t even sure Katara would have gotten.

And then there was Azula, who, despite the dark circles under her eyes visible even from the audience, got pretty much every other question regardless of category.

The clock was running out on the second half as the judge started reading what would be the final question. “Toss-up, Chemistry, multiple choice,” said the judge. “To identify the chemical compounds dissolved in a sample, a student dips a clean piece of nichrome wire into the sample and burns it in a flame. If the flame burns blue, which of the following chemicals might be present? W, Sodium. X, Selenium. Y-- interrupt, A Captain.”

Suki raised her eyebrows. Sokka wondered if she knew that one, if she would have buzzed that early.

“Selenium,” said Azula. She looked-- different than she had at the party. Her hair, formerly neat as a pin, had since been chopped messily, homemade bangs gone horribly wrong. Her hands drummed nervously on the table, whereas at regionals they had been still and composed, waiting to press on the button like a viper waiting to strike.

“Correct,” read the judge. “Bonus, short answer. The pressure of 2 moles of an ideal gas at 27° Celsius is 1.2 atmospheres. Providing your answer to the nearest tenth, if the temperature is increased by 100° Celsius and the volume of the gas doubles, what is the new pressure of the gas in atmospheres?”

When it came to bonuses, there was a specific look Sokka was very familiar with. He’d seen it on his own team, on other teams. Hell, he’d felt it on his own face more than he’d care to remember. It was the oh shit, this one’s a no-go look. The kind where your brain heard the question-- calculated everything you knew, everything you didn’t know, and what you needed to do to get to an answer-- and knew that this sure as hell wasn’t happening in twenty seconds.

He was pretty sure he’d never seen that look on Azula’s face before now. He had seen her tackle questions that involved the logic of a formula, the rearrangement of an equation, with an ease that was almost scary. But now that he was thinking back, he wasn’t sure he had ever seen her do straight up rapid-fire math.

The Sozin team looked to Azula. Sokka was reminded of regionals, how they never really discussed bonuses, just let whoever was the team expert tackle it.

Her brief, panicked expression disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “Mai,” Azula said, “It’s just PV = nRT, why don’t you take this one?”

Zuko’s gaze swung towards Mai, who had stiffened. Sokka and Suki exchanged glances. What was the point? Sozin had locked in a victory at this point, was Azula really going to refuse to admit this one wasn’t going to happen?

Here at nationals, where every judge’s table had a prominently displayed timer, it was hard to take your eyes off the clock during a bonus. A second went by. Another second. Another. Finally...

“What’s R?” said Mai tersely, picking up her pencil.

“The Ideal Gas Constant, obviously,” Azula said. “C’mon, quickly.”

Mai looked at her paper a moment, then put her pencil back down. “I don’t know this,” she said. “It’s Chemistry.”

“Initial P is 1.2 atmospheres, T is 27 Celsius, n is 2,” read Ty Lee off her paper, her gaze flickering anxiously back and forth between Mai and Azula when she was done. Apparently at least one of them wrote things down during bonuses. Poor Ty Lee, she was wasted on this team.

“I continue to not know what R is,” said Mai.

“Like 8.3,” supplied Zuko, whose shoulders had grown noticeably tense during this exchange.

“Five seconds,” said the judge.

Azula’s drumming fingers got faster. She looked at Mai. “Well?”

Mai’s face tightened. She just crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, looking away.

“What the fuck,” Suki breathed to Sokka.

Sokka nodded. It was dysfunction in motion.

“I’m sorry, that’s time,” said the judge. She made a note on her paper. “End of round, winner Sozin Academy.”

One person clapped, the woman in the audience who looked just like Mai. She stopped when she realized no one else was clapping. Next to her, the tall, moustached Sozin coach looked at the players with a troubled expression.

The Gaoling team looked vaguely dazed. Sokka felt for them-- your first time playing Sozin Academy was no fun. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little Schadenfreude about all the teams that came from across the country and had to face not one, but two Northern New England teams this year.

Back on stage, the winners made no celebration, despite the massive routing they’d achieved. “Well, a lot of help you were on that last question,” said Azula.

“It was Chemistry,” said Mai, words sharp as knives. “You can’t just spring things on me, Azula.”

“Forgive me, I was under the impression that that question was just simple multiplication and division,” snapped Azula. "I didn't realize that would be beyond our math prodigy."

Suki was practically vibrating with indignation next to Sokka. That question had not been simple multiplication.

Mai pushed her chair out with a sharp, scraping sound. She stood and walked off the stage, just like that. She didn’t notice Suki and Sokka sitting, watching her walk past, one of Suki’s hands fidgeting with the fan.

The auditorium door swung shut behind her.

Azula whipped her gaze back toward Ty Lee, who watched Mai disappear out of the auditorium doors with huge eyes, like she was unsure whether to call after her. “Well, this won’t work against better teams,” Azula said, the bobby pins in her hair giving up on holding back the few chopped bangs that weren’t already falling in her face.

Ty Lee hesitated for one long moment, like she was deciding between two tricky multiple choice options. Her face grew more resolute than Sokka had ever seen it. She stood and ran after Mai.

Azula sat there in the captain seat. For one moment, she looked so utterly startled and alone, unflanked by her science girl gang, that Sokka almost felt bad for her.

Then his eyes met Zuko’s, who had found him in the audience. And he remembered everything Azula had done. He felt sadness spread over him, for Zuko, for Mai, for the entire team, honestly. How did she not see how much pain she was bringing on everyone, on herself most of all?

Azula had already rearranged her face back into an air of superior nonchalance. “Well, thanks for all the help there, Zuzu,” Azula said to her brother as they started collecting their things to go.

“Azula, it’s okay if you don’t get a bonus,” Zuko said, standing up. “You don’t have to pin it on Mai if you’re not gonna get it.”

“What a winning mentality you have,” Azula told him, voice heated and tight. She led him off the stage, stumbling once on the stairs. She really did look like a mess. As she walked past, Sokka saw how wrinkled her blazer was, how exhausted she looked.

Zuko walked past them, too, pausing to wait for their coach and chaperone. He looked between Sokka and Azula, gave Sokka a tight, tense shrug, and followed his sister out of the auditorium.

“Bruh,” Suki whispered to him. “They’re falling apart.”

Sokka wished he could run after Zuko, smooth out the stress in his face with his hands and his lips. “Christ,” he said. “I wonder if they’ll make it out of prequarters.”

“I mean, clearly they don’t have to be getting along to win games,” Suki said, gesturing at the scoreboard.

Sokka wasn’t so sure. All the way back to his team, he thought about a Physics question he had answered just a round ago, about increasing the voltage rating of a parallel-plated capacitor. If you kept applying voltage beyond its capacity for too long, its dielectric strength would break down.

And then it would explode.

Chapter Text

“Pool play for pool play winners!” yelled Aang as he flipped into the motel pool, getting so much air that he nearly kicked the low ceiling, voice echoing in the tiled indoor space.

He splashed down, hitting Toph in the face with the displaced water. “Twinkle Toes, I’ll kill you,” she spluttered back as he resurfaced.

“Aang,” called Suki from where she and Sokka were sitting on the edge. “Please don’t break your neck, we’ve got bracket play tomorrow.”

Aang grinned. Sokka didn’t miss the casual glance over his shoulder to see if Katara had seen his flip. The blue light coming from the pool cast an odd glow over his tattoos. “I’d be more worried about Toph taking me out.”

“Damn straight,” Toph said. “Hey, then I’d get to play all of bracket play.”

Katara was doing some kind of yoga moves in the water, or maybe Tai Chi. Sokka wasn’t sure what new self-care habits she’d been accumulating lately in her self-prescribed post-breakup healing process. “We need both of you,” she said. “It’s gonna be a coin flip every game on if more Earth or Energy’s gonna come up in the first half.”

“I object to coin-flipping as subbing strategy,” Toph said. “I’d prefer trial by combat.”

“Ooh! Trial by cannonball!” Aang said, already clambering out of the pool to jump in again.

Sokka leaned back on his elbows, the tiles cold on his skin, the pool water warm around his ankles. He let out a long breath, taking in the sounds of his team letting off steam after the long day, the pungent chlorine smell wafting through the room.

He had texted Zuko to say congratulations on winning his pool (actually, he’d sent him a photo of the motel pool captioned congrats on winning this, which he had chuckled to himself about longer than he cared to admit.) But his phone was resolutely silent.

Suki saw him glancing at it. “You angstin’?” she asked.

Sokka shrugged.

Suki kicked her legs back and forth against the pool wall, creating little ripples in the water. “You’re not responsible for fixing their team dynamics, you know,” she said.

Sokka sighed. “Yeah.”

Neither of them said anything for a while.

“I used to really hate them, but the more I get to know them, it just makes me feel kind of sad,” Suki said finally, twisting one hand in her hair.

He nodded. They watched their friends playing together like they were ten. (Toph had recruited Katara in getting splash revenge on Aang. Huge puddles were forming on the tiles around the pool.)

Sokka wasn’t great when it came to talking about his own emotions, honesty without jokes. But with bracket play tomorrow-- in their final Science Bowl, ever-- he owed Suki this. “It-- it makes me appreciate our team,” he said. “It makes me appreciate you being captain.”

She looked down and smiled, a real one. He was worried for a second that she would demur, make some comment about Kyoshi being better-- but maybe after what they’d seen today, she was realizing that there was strength in what she, Suki, brought to the table. “You too, Sokka,” she said. “You too.”

His phone buzzed. He glanced at it, but it was just Hakoda, responding to Sokka’s earlier recap of the day. (Gran Gran had been proud to hear that in four out of their five games, Omashu had come out ahead on math.)

Sokka sighed. Enough moping and feelings. He was here, in the present, and the present was good. He pulled off his shirt, tucked his phone inside for protection, and tossed it over to one of the poolside chairs. “You got your phone on you?” he asked Suki.

She looked at him, confused. “No, why, do you need--”

Before she could finish, he had hauled off and dunked them both into the pool, the water rushing up to meet them with a splash.

Aang, Katara, and Toph all paused what they were doing to look up. Sokka couldn’t stop laughing as he emerged.

Suki spluttered out of the water, raking her wet hair out of her face. “Never mind, Toph, you now have permission to murder your teammates,” she called across the pool. “Just start with Sokka, okay?”

“Roger that, Fanwoman,” Toph said (Suki’s new nickname since the fan upgrade incident), and hurled a kickboard in Sokka’s general direction like a frisbee.

Sokka caught it, and the war was on.

*

“Biology, short answer. Cacti have adapted to dry environments by closing their stomata during the day and opening them at night to reduce water loss. What is the name of the photosynthesis adaptation that incorporates this strategy?”

Katara’s buzzer lit up. Sokka had no idea when she had had time to learn about cactus juice on top of all the other bio stuff. But her eyes were focused, steely. “Crassulacean acid metabolism,” she said, taking care to enunciate.

Everyone in the room stared at her, including the judge, who was grinning. “Correct,” he said, sounding like a proud teacher. “We’d also accept CAM. Bonus, short answer. How many molecules of ATP are needed to synthesize two glucose molecules in the Calvin cycle?”

Katara turned to Suki. “Thirty-six,” she said.

Suki held out her hand for a fist bump. She recognized when one of her teammates was playing a hot hand. “Thirty-six,” she repeated to the judge without bothering to consult anyone else.

“Correct,” said the judge, glancing at the clock. “And that’s game.”

It was day two of nationals, and they’d just wrapped up their play-in game. Thirty-two teams had started the day, sixteen remained. Pre-quarters next, quarters after. As long as they kept winning, they’d keep playing. At the end of the day, only four teams would remain, for semis and finals tomorrow.

Aang gave Katara a Top Gun style high five after they stood back up. “That was sick,” he said, keeping hold of her hand at the bottom of the high five.

Katara was grinning, flushed with victory. “We were up anyway,” she said.

“Every question matters,” Sokka said as they started leaving the table to regroup with Toph, Bumi, and Gyatso. “Hey, if you’re team plant expert now, I’ve always wondered. Can you drink the water that’s just chillin’ in a cactus?”

Katara wrinkled her nose. “I wouldn’t.”

Bumi raised his eyebrows. “I have... and I don’t recommend it.” He let out one of his signature cackles. On the other side of the room, one of the other team’s players jumped at the sound.

“All right, everyone,” said Suki, leafing through the tournament program. In the one day they’d had it (had the competition really only started yesterday? It felt like forever), it had already grown increasingly dog-eared and wrinkled from passing it back and forth from co-captain to co-captain. “We’ve got pre-quarters in half an hour. I vote that we turn in our scores, bathroom break, then Art of War this round and get to our next spot early.”

Sokka followed along behind everyone else, checking his phone. Zuko hadn’t gotten back to him last night. That wasn’t unusual, but the fact that there was still no text from him this morning was. He had seemed to figure out early on that Sokka got anxious when he went MIA, and tried to at least send a “Hi I’m still alive” text if it had been a while.

Sokka chewed his lip, then put the phone away. The championship bracket was all on the same morning schedule-- play-ins, pre-quarters, then quarters--with yesterday’s pool losers getting a few consolation rounds in the afternoon. Zuko was probably wrapping up play-ins now, and he’d hit Sokka with an overly involved recap of the match soon. Yeah.

They bopped around the atrium, waiting to turn their scores in to Joo Dee, who appeared to be having a very intense, stressed-looking conversation with one of the judges. It couldn’t be easy, wrangling scores for forty-eight teams.

At least that gave the team time for a quick round of shoe bocce, a game Aang invented on the spot. He took off one of his shoes and threw it into the center of the atrium, then turned to face his team. “All right, everyone tosses a shoe. Closest one wins. Furthest one has to lick one of the columns.”

“Why do these bets always have to involve licking?” Katara asked, throwing her hands in the air.

“I feel like I’m at a disadvantage here,” said Toph.

“Suki, can I borrow your phone?” Aang asked. He was the only person Sokka knew who still had a flip phone. Gyatso had none at all.

She handed it over, and he turned on the last playlist she’d been listening to (Sokka recognized it as “quiet pump-up”). Aang tucked the phone into his shoe, and the music drifted across the hall. Katara watched, smiling, as Aang told Toph, “It's echolocation time, baby.”

A few other teams waiting between rounds were starting to pay attention, grin along. A couple nice himbos from one of their pool play rounds even asked to join in. In the end, Aang won, and Suki ended up licking the column, which she did with good grace before going to turn their scores.

Joo Dee gave them a tight-lipped smile, either unamused by their antics or stressed by competition logistics. “There’s been an update to the schedule,” she told Suki, “Make sure to check your email.”

Aang gave Suki her phone back as they put on their shoes and headed toward their conference room. Once they'd arrived, Katara passed around walnuts from Suki’s bag. Sokka tested all the buzzers to figure out if either of the sides had better ones. The usual pre-game shuffle.

“Oh, hey, hey, this is actually important.” Suki said, pulling up her email as the team settled in, interrupting Toph and Aang playing verbal rock paper scissors to try to decide who’d play first. “The director just emailed all the captains. Some team is dropping out, they’re gonna have push quarters an hour.”

“Lemme see,” said Sokka. “That gonna affect this round?”

Suki scanned the email quickly, then tossed her phone to him. “Not us, the other side of the bracket is changing a bit though. They’ll send a new schedule in an hour, they said.”

Sokka read through it, too. Nothing informative, just a faintly stressed email from the competition director notifying the captains some anonymous team still in contention had had to drop. The affected corner of the bracket would pause for a round so that another team could be brought up from the lower bracket and play-ins could remain at 32 teams. The rest of the bracket would proceed as normal through pre-quarters.

Katara wrinkled her nose. “Who would drop out at this stage?”

“Maybe someone got sick or something,” said Aang.

“That’s why you gotta have an alternate,” Sokka said, tossing Suki’s phone back to her.

She caught the phone, then looked up at him, eyes wide like when she had just put together a chem equation.

He paused for a moment, actually listened to his words. “Oh, shit,” he said. “You think it’s Sozin?”

“No way,” said Katara. “They’d never give up another shot at beating us.”

“I don’t know…” Suki said. “They were in rough shape yesterday.”

Sokka glanced back at his phone. Why hadn’t Zuko texted him back?

Maybe he had some kind of latent psychic ability, because as he stared at his phone, willing Zuko to text him back, it started vibrating.

He was so startled he dropped it. Zuko was calling instead. He scrambled for the phone and picked it up. “What’s up?” he said, more brusquely than he meant to.

“Sokka?” Zuko’s breathless voice asked on the other end.

“What’s wrong?” Omashu's opponents started shuffling into the conference room.

“Something bad happened,” Zuko said, words coming in a panicked jumble. “Um, I know you’re probably busy, but I just… um…”

“What is it?” Sokka asked, walking to the other side of the conference room, pressing the phone to his ear to try to hear Zuko, ignoring the sudden silence and worried glances from his teammates, the curious stares from the other team.

“So my uncle finally moved on my dad, and uh… some bad things happened here with Azula.” Zuko said, his voice tight and constricted. He took a breath that sounded more like a sob. There was a weird echo on his end of the call. “I’m okay, I just, uh… did you mean it when you said to call if I needed you?”

The doubt and panic behind those words made Sokka’s chest ache. “Of course I did. I’m on my way. Just tell me where.”

Zuko gave him some garbled directions, Sokka barely able to hear him or understand him. He finally got that he was in a bathroom somewhere near where Sozin Academy’s last round had been. “Where was your round?” Sokka asked.

“Um…” Zuko’s voice wavered.

“That’s okay, that’s okay, I’ll find you.” Gesturing furiously with Suki, Sokka managed to convey that he wanted the competition brochure. He rifled back and forth between the tournament schedule and the conference center map, trying to figure out where Sozin’s last round had been. There-- clear on the other side of the gigantic building. Hopefully he was near there. “I’m on my way, okay? Just stay put. Do you-- do you need anything?” he added. “Are you safe?”

Zuko had already hung up.

Sokka put the phone down and looked up at his friends, all of whom were staring at him. Well, except Toph, who was staring at the ground, but Sokka was sure she was able to hear the pounding of his heart from across the room.

He looked at the time on his clock. Nine forty-one, with their round starting at ten, their opponents right here. Not enough time. But this was Zuko. His nemesis. His friend. His-- whatever he was, this was the kid who was trying to disentangle himself from an evil father, a conniving sister, and along the way had snared himself in Sokka’s heart.

He met Suki’s eyes. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it if she made him think too much about this choice.

“You gotta go?” she asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just... I think something bad happened, or is happening, and I just have to...“

Suki nodded. She was stressed, he could tell, but she gave him a pretty good approximation of a Suki smile. “I know you do. This is why we have five. We’ll be fine.”

He nodded shortly, squeezed Aang and Toph on the shoulders, and looked at Katara. “I’ll try and be back by the round, but if I’m not-- take the one seat, okay, Katara?”

“Get the hell out of here, Sokka,” Katara said.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He didn’t walk, he ran.

*

He was starting to get to know the conference center pretty well, but he hadn’t been down this particular hallway yet, and he was so flustered and urgent that he got all the way to the end of the spoke having missed the conference room where Sozin had been, nor any bathroom nearby.

He turned back around. There-- conference room 222. He glanced in the door as he passed. No one in there, just buzzers, and confusingly, one abandoned Sozin blazer. That didn’t seem good.

Where was the closest bathroom? He continued down the hallway, looking for restrooms, and-- there. A weird little alcove he had missed in his panic. He went into the men’s room, crossing his fingers he had interpreted Zuko’s confusing phone call correctly.

He had. There was Zuko, sitting against the wall next to the trash can. His knees were drawn up to his chest, his face pale around his scar, his hair plastered to the side of his face with sweat. He flinched violently at the sound of Sokka opening the bathroom door.

“Hi,” Sokka said, holding still in the doorway, some instinct telling him to keep his voice calm, keep his movements careful.

It seemed to take a long time for Zuko to register that the face was a familiar one. “You came,” he rasped back.

“Of course,” Sokka said, letting the door swing shut behind him. “You called.”

Zuko nodded, his movements jerky. Face tight, jaw set. For a moment he opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but it was like some kind of load-bearing beam in his brain finally splintered and collapsed. All that came out was a choked sob. He covered his face, breath coming erratically, shoulders shaking.

Sokka crossed the room before he was conscious of it. He sat down close beside Zuko on the cold tiles, pushing aside the Sozin blazer crumpled on the floor beside him. Tentatively, not sure what the other boy needed but knowing he wanted to give him whatever it was, he reached a hand out and placed it lightly in the tense space between his shoulder blades. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay.”

Zuko nodded, visibly trying to calm himself. They took a long moment to be quiet, the spotless bathroom of the conference center sterile and echoey around them, the white tiles and fluorescent lights harsh and strange. Sokka’s mind raced through everything that had happened this morning, and tried to figure out what had led Zuko to this moment, alone.

Finally, Zuko seemed to relax enough to at least breathe properly. “Sorry,” he said, his voice thick.

“Don’t be,” Sokka said. He was reluctant to leave the other boy too long, but he got up to grab up a fistful of paper towels from the dispenser and give him a moment to recover.

He handed the makeshift tissues to Zuko, who took them gratefully. “Thanks,” he said after blowing his nose.

“What’s going on?” Sokka said, sliding back down next to him, in the small space between Zuko and the garbage can. “What happened with Azula?”

Zuko twisted the paper towels up in his hands. He spoke in a breathless, halting voice. “My uncle called me last night. He gave the FBI everything they needed. Turns out he was waiting for this weekend, so me and Azula would be out of town.”

“Whoa,” Sokka said, hackles rising. Did it really have to be this weekend, Iroh?

“I guess it’s a good thing he did, because…” The paper towels ripped in his hands. “We were just about to start our first round this morning. My dad called Azula, I think right before the police came, I don’t know if he got tipped off or what. He wanted her to go wipe some hard drive or something he had given her for safekeeping at school-- I couldn’t really tell from her half-- and like… go off with his assistant to his safehouse. He flipped when he found out she wasn’t in town. Like I could hear him through the phone screaming at her.”

Zuko’s hand went to his scar, a reflex. Sokka put one arm around him, hoping to act as some kind of anchor in the tide of the anguished words pouring out.

“At that point the judge was like… telling us we had to start the round. Piandao was trying to get us some more time, because Azula was like… freaking out. My dad hung up on her, and she…” Zuko’s eyes were squeezed tight. “She lost it. She went off on me, saying everything was my fault… she smashed her buzzer… she ended up on this weird rant about our mom, it... It was-- everyone in the room was watching, and then she… just like… started smashing her head into the desk...”

“Just breathe, buddy, it’s okay,” said Sokka, even though it clearly wasn’t, because Zuko’s words were coming out like gasps.

Zuko stopped trying to talk. He curled himself into Sokka’s side instead, pressing his face into his shirt. Filled with an inexpressible relief that he was there at all, Sokka wrapped both arms around him, pulled him in close, just holding the shaking boy tight. He was no stranger to holding, protecting. This came by instinct.

Unbidden, the thought came of his mom, holding him when he was small and crying and scared. Maybe this only came to him as instinct because he knew what it was like to be held.

These feelings were too complicated and powerful to think through right now. He just focused on Zuko, whose breathing seemed to be slowing down a bit. Sokka didn’t say anything for a long time, just sat with him. His mind wandered for a moment back to his team, but he knew this was where he was needed right now.

Someone opened the bathroom door. “Occupied!” Sokka snapped, even though it definitely wasn’t that stranger’s fault. They backed out quickly. Maybe sitting and having this conversation in a bathroom was a little absurd, but if Zuko wanted to sit in this bathroom right now, Sokka was going to keep it as safe and comfortable as possible.

Somehow this interaction had brought a crooked smile to Zuko’s face, despite everything. “Thanks,” he said shakily.

“I always knew my calling was in bathroom security,” Sokka said, just wanting to make everything okay somehow. He wished he knew how.

The paper towels were a shredded mess in Zuko’s hands, but he seemed a little calmer now. He took a deep breath. “Anyway… so Piandao had to more or less hold Azula down, but he at least got her to stop hurting herself. He took her to the hospital. I think she’s mostly fine physically, but like… mentally… I don’t know.”

“That… Jesus,” Sokka said, trying to imagine it. He thought of the erstwhile party at Jet’s, at the brief moments where the Sozin team had gotten along, at the way they’d fractured. He remembered Azula, messing with Zuko’s head, and his face tightened.

“I think she had like… a psychotic break or something. I don’t know. She’s been such a mess. We had to forfeit, obviously. I feel terrible for Mai and Ty Lee, and like… I don’t know how to feel about Azula.” Zuko’s whole body got tense.

Sokka just held onto him a little tighter. Would he have been able to put these pieces together on his own? Would he have been able to find Zuko if he hadn't called?

But Zuko had called him, he reminded himself. Somehow, he’d gotten through to him. That he didn’t have to be in this alone.

But why was he alone in the first place? “Where is everyone?” he asked.

Zuko finally reached across Sokka and threw away the crumpled mess that had been the paper towels. “Ty Lee was really freaked out by it all, so Mai took her out to get some air. And Mai’s mom is off on the phone doing damage control, ‘cause my dad was such a huge contributor to her dad’s campaign.” Zuko laughed, utterly without joy. “So I just… told the judge we had to forfeit, and came in here to puke my guts out. And then after that I just felt like… scared to leave,” said Zuko. He flushed. “I know that’s dumb.”

“It’s chill,” Sokka said, trying to ease Zuko as much as possible. He let him have a little personal space (though he held onto his hand, because he sure as hell wasn’t ready to let him go yet.) “This bathroom’s a pretty nice place. I guess we live here now.”

Zuko let out another of those small, choked laughs. “It’s just... everything’s different now,” he said. “Like I believed Uncle that this could happen, but I think some part of me always thought my dad would keep getting away with everything, forever. I think Azula did too.”

Sokka stroked Zuko’s hand.

“I know this is weird, but… It feels like nothing’s real,” Zuko continued. “I think that was why I got so freaked out.”

Sokka nodded toward the sink. “That sink is real.” Why could he only think of dumb jokes at a time like this? He inclined his head toward the garbage can. “That trash is real.”

Zuko squeezed his hand, so tight it almost hurt. “You’re real,” he said softly.

Sokka almost kept on going with the joke, but that statement filled up his heart too much. “So are you,” he replied instead, and brushed a few strands of hair out of Zuko’s face with his free hand.

This seemed to soothe something in the other boy, so he kept doing it. Zuko let out a long, slow breath, then another. They sat like that for a long time, listening to the echoey footsteps of people walking down the hallway outside.

“And my dad getting arrested. That’s real, too,” Zuko said finally, like he was trying to convince himself. “Uncle said he’s in custody.”

Sokka shoved his own savage, vindictive satisfaction about that aside for the moment. “What happens now?”

“I have no idea,” said Zuko. He closed his eyes, leaned back against the wall. “Probably some kind of long drawn out legal garbage. I… I guess Uncle and I need to figure out Azula. Fuck, I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” He squeezed Sokka’s hand again. “Nothing I can do till he or Piandao call me back anyway. I just… um… can I stick with you for a little while?”

That question filled Sokka with emotion-- as if he'd even let Zuko out of his sight right now when he was in this state-- but he kept his voice level. “Yeah, of course.”

“I know you have rounds, but I can just hang out and watch while I wait for someone to call me back, I just… I don’t really want to be around my team right now. I don’t think they want to be around me either.” His face crumpled for a moment. “This is all such a fucking mess. I just want to think about something else for a while. How are you?” he asked, tacking it on at the end in a rush of politeness.

Sokka had to smile at the latent rich kid etiquette surfacing despite the massive stress Zuko was under. “I mean, I’m good,” said Sokka. “Just hanging in my favorite bathroom with my favorite nemesis, you know?”

Zuko smiled, a tiny bit. “I assume your team’s in better shape than mine?” he asked.

“Today’s looking good so far. Won in play-ins this morning, and...” Sokka glanced at his phone. 10:04. Shit. Well, worth it. “Hopefully we’re up in pre-quarters right now.”

“Wait.” Zuko looked at him, horrified. “It’s ten? You have a match?”

“Well, yeah, but… something came up,” said Sokka.

“I’m so sorry,” Zuko said, panic creeping back into his voice. “I didn’t-- I wouldn’t have called you if I thought about it, I was just so freaked out--”

This time, Sokka tried his best to cut it off at the source. He pulled him close, pressed quick soft kisses to the side of his temple, to his cheek, to his lips. “I’m so glad you did, okay?” he said, meaning it. “You shouldn’t be alone right now, and… it just means a lot.”

It did mean a lot. It meant that maybe, Sokka could try and protect people all he wanted. But maybe-- just maybe-- people would only accept the help they were ready for.

Zuko closed his eyes and let himself be hugged close another moment, then pushed himself to his feet. He steadied himself against a head rush, then offered his hand to Sokka. “I’m not alone. I’m with you. C’mon, let’s get you back to your team.”

They left the door swinging behind them on the way out, still holding on, hand in hand as they hurried back across the conference center.

*

It was 10:08 by the time they made it back to the conference room where Omashu was playing the tail end of their first half. Sokka and Zuko crept in as quietly as they could, sitting down next to Bumi and Gyatso, who glanced up but were deeply focused on the match. Sokka’s stomach flipped. That probably meant it was close so far.

His focus had been completely consumed by Zuko, but now that they were sitting here, hand in hand, the worries about abandoning his teammates were back full force.

The judge was a tall woman with thick glasses. “Toss-up, Physics, short answer. A uniform magnetic field is applied perpendicularly to the velocity vector of a moving charged particle. What shape will the path of the charged particle be?”

Sokka’s heart started pounding in his ears as soon as he heard the word “perpendicularly.” This was his domain, he knew this answer, and he wasn’t up there with his team. This was his job, and he wasn’t there. Maybe you could logic this one out with a little knowledge of polar functions, but--

Aang’s buzzer lit up. “B2?” The judge said.

“Circular?” Aang said, voice hesitant.

Zuko squeezed Sokka’s hand. He knew this one, too.

“Correct,” said the judge, and Toph slapped Aang across the back so hard Sokka heard it from across the room. “Bonus, Physics, short answer. Electric eels can generate a 500-volt potential difference that they use to stun their prey. If the potential difference is generated by a network of cells all connected in series, each of which can generate a 100-millivolt potential difference, how many cells are required to generate the total voltage?”

Sokka’s breath stopped. This was barely physics, mostly math. They could do it. Come on, y’all, he thought, hoping, praying.

Some teams were quiet when they discussed bonuses, whispering like they were keeping it a secret from the other team, or like they were scared to reveal they weren’t sure about something.

That had never been Omashu’s style, least of all with Toph on their team. “What did eels have to do with that?” she said.

Katara was already scribbling. “Ignore the eels. It’s just math. 500 volts. Aang, if they’re connected in series, is there any weird physics thing that happens there?”

“Nah, series is just one to one,” he said. “So… 500 cells?”

“No, no, each cell generates 100 millivolts,” said Suki, voice high and urgent. Sokka never knew how she took notes that fast, pared down the questions for everyone to understand. “So if the eel generates 500 volts total and each cell 100 millivolts, that’d be--”

“Five seconds,” said the judge.

“500 over ten to the negative 1,” said Toph, who was terrible with physics but great with units of measurement and scientific notation.

“Five thousand cells,” said Suki, translating to the judge, her pencil drumming on the desk nervously.

“Correct,” said the judge.

Sokka would have dabbed if his fingers weren’t still interlaced with Zuko’s. Instead he just pumped his other fist.

Zuko angled toward him. “You’ve got a good team,” he said.

Sokka smiled, leaned his head against Zuko’s. Maybe he was supposed to be sad that the team had just managed to string together a successful Physics toss-up and bonus without him, but he couldn’t feel anything but pride. This was what it was all about, right? A team that could roll with the punches, science things out together when they weren’t sure.

The judge got through one more question before the timer ticked down, a math toss-up about matrices that neither team was able to work through in time (Suki buzzed in with a valiant late guess, but it wasn’t right). No bonus for anyone.

As the clock ran out, Sokka met Zuko’s eyes. “You okay?” he asked.

Zuko looked weary, like the adrenaline of the past hour had completely drained out of him. But he managed a smile for Sokka. “Go get it,” he said.

Sokka clasped his shoulder for a moment, still reluctant to leave him. But at least they were in the room, one asshole dad down. So much that mattered to him, here in this weird little conference room in Colorado. He left Zuko with Bumi and Gyatso, and hurried to the front of the room.

“Sokka!” Aang said, looking up right away toward Sokka rushing toward the team, then turned his gaze toward Zuko sitting next to Bumi and Gyatso, who had mutually unfazed expressions about this new boy who had appeared out of nowhere with Sokka.

Suki’s head snapped up at Sokka’s name, her face visibly relaxing when she saw her co-captain. “Finally,” she said. “I did not have more solo captaining in me.”

“Never fear,” Sokka said. “Co-Captain Boomerang or whoever is here. What’s the score?”

“We’re up a toss-up,” Suki said. “Tight game, but we’re in this, Sokka. Aang, you wanna swap out? We hit two Energy that round, only one Earth.”

“Aye-aye, cap’n,” said Aang. “I’ll chill with Zuko.”

Sokka’s shoulders relaxed. He hadn’t ruined everything. His team had his back. Zuko was here, safe. Things were looking up.

Except… his stomach dropped when he remembered their pre-match ritual. “Wait… you guys need a battle plan?” Sokka asked. Aside from space and physics, his job was inspiring the troops-- and he hadn’t been here to do it.

Katara smiled. “Suki gave us one.”

Toph piped up. “Yeah, she just reminded us to take notes during bonuses and then just recited like fifteen vines in a row. Not very sciencey, but it tracked.”

“It was awesome, Sokka,” added Aang.

Sokka looked at Suki, who shrugged. “I may have panic-improvised slightly,” she said.

“That was a really good idea,” he said. “Damn, I’m sorry I missed it.”

Suki grinned. “Well, I intend for us to have a few more rounds to try it.”

The judge sat back down at the table, sipping a cup of water. “Thirty seconds,” she said.

“Anything to add, co-captain?” Suki asked, the way Sokka always did.

Sokka looked around, at his team-- his sister, stepping up as a leader, coming into her own as a Bio expert who could dabble in other categories with ease-- his Earth Science gremlin, continually pushing herself to a higher standard-- his co-captain, keeping everyone together as she strung results out of guesswork-- his Physics acolyte, willingly stepping aside to let him take the stage, ready to welcome a former enemy as a friend.

And at that former enemy-- who’d been through so much-- but was here, not alone, ready to move forward.

He felt his heart swell with pride and happiness. “I love you guys so much,” he said, unable to stop a smile breaking out across his face. “And let’s fucking do this.”

*

*

*

Chapter Text

One year later

“Aaaaaand… that, my friend, is a midterm,” Sokka said, snapping his linear algebra textbook shut with a satisfying thwap. He shoved it off of his bed, followed by his problem set, followed by his notes. Papers fluttered down to the ground.

Haru glanced up from his desk, where he was deep into paper writing mode. “You’re not going to be able to resell your textbook if you keep treating it like that,” he said mildly. He was thinking of majoring in lit, and had, as Sokka put it, a thing about books.

“How else am I supposed to experience that sweet, sweet catharsis of defeating linear algebra in combat?” Sokka said, sighing down at the pile of papers and books on the floor. Still, it was hard to feel anything except triumph and excitement in that moment. Midterm complete for his hardest class, just in time to pick up Zuko from the bus station.

He glanced at his phone. Shit, not quite on time. He rolled off the bed, picked up his papers (he wasn’t that inconsiderate of a roommate), and stuffed his feet into his boots.

“Zuko time?” asked Haru.

“Zuko time,” confirmed Sokka. “What’s your schedule like tonight?”

Haru grinned. “I assume I’ll be working on this paper until my death. But I could use a change of scene. You goina Chan’s party?”

“Probably not, ‘less Zuko wants to,” said Sokka, knowing he wouldn’t. Chan could be kind of a jerk anyway, although he did throw a good rager in his off-campus apartment.

“Aight, well, I’ll probably be back around midnight. I assume that’s late enough I won’t see anything I can’t unsee,” said Haru as Sokka shrugged into his jacket.

“Roger that,” Sokka said. He clapped a hand to Haru’s shoulder on his way out the door of their tiny, concrete freshman dorm at Ba Sing Se University. “Thanks, man, I appreciate it.”

“You don’t get to hog him all weekend!” Haru called after him. “I wanna talk to him about magical realism!”

Sokka smiled as he left the dorm, taking the stairs down to the exit two at a time. It was luck that he and his randomly assigned roommate had hit it off, but it felt like divine providence that he and Zuko had clicked, too. Haru was a good guy. Sokka knew full well that not every college freshman might be chill with his roommate’s boyfriend showing up periodically and sleeping in the same twin bed.

But the first time Zuko had visited, awkward, visibly nervous, he had noted the copy of One Hundred Years of Solitude on Haru’s nightstand with a bookmark halfway through. After that, they didn’t shut up about Marquez or Borges or any number of authors that Sokka hadn’t read any of for a good twenty minutes. It would have been annoying if it wasn’t so cute to see the levels of geekiness that Zuko exhibited beyond science, and how much he and his roommate wanted to get along.

He burst out of his dorm into the dry, frigid air, breath freezing in front of him. His dorm was way on the edge of campus, but at least it was close to the equally remote freshman parking lot. Ba Sing Se University was situated in the midst of the city’s sprawling, ringlike layout, and the campus itself had unexpected twists and turns that Sokka was still getting the hang of. But it was late February. By this point, he knew his way around the dorm, the engineering building, his favorite dining hall, the library, the student center.

And he had the drive from campus to the bus station in the center of the city on lock.

It was already four, and a good twenty minute drive to the station. He texted Zuko before he turned the car on.

sokka: runnin like 10 min late
sokka: it was worth it, i have conquered linear algebra for the weekend, now you wont have to share me with the alg demon
zuko <3: I guess you’ll have to find some way to make it up to me.
zuko <3: ;)

Sokka smiled, pulling out of the lot as the early winter pre-twilight settled over the campus. Still, every day now it was getting a little lighter. It was funny, thinking back to last February when all he had wanted was to beat Zuko at Science Bowl. So much had happened since then, but Zuko could still make his heart skip with a well-placed winky face.

He guessed that made this trip a little bit of an anniversary. When did anniversaries count, when you were with your former nemesis? First kiss? Final Science Bowl match? First love confession? First real date? Attending the final sentencing for that nemeses’ piece of shit father, who was thankfully, wholly, really in jail now for a minimum of twelve years?

Yeah, they had a few firsts and finals under their belt at this point. The year had brought its share of challenges and joys.

For one thing, there had been the rest of nationals. A year later, and Sokka faintly remembered the adrenaline-laced experience of winning finals. Of the last question of the round-- Energy, something about wind power that Aang snagged on an interruption-- of the team crushing together into a group hug, Toph screaming, Suki crying, all proud and startled, amazed with themselves, with each other. The vindication of all the work they’d done, and the promise of first prize (an all-expenses paid trip to the national park of their choice.)

But what he remembered, even more clearly than that, was the day before when his friends took Zuko under their wing. Played through a tight quarters match, then went off to a lengthy and celebratory diner lunch, accepting the shaky, nervous boy without question. Including him in their weird little games and debates, and letting him just sit quietly next to Sokka when he seemed overwhelmed or was checking his phone for updates.

Sokka was pretty sure he had never felt more grateful for the team.

Zuko’s uncle had shown up in the middle of the night, exhausted and careworn, to pick Zuko up from the motel where he’d been with the Omashu kids (they’d split by gender that night in an effort not to overwhelm Zuko with the megabed situation). Iroh and Zuko would go to the hospital to work on a plan for getting Azula safely home.

Still, they didn’t leave before Iroh shook Sokka’s hand, saying “Thank you for being there for my nephew.” Before Zuko looked at him, long and hard, then hugged him the same way.

Things had barely calmed down after nationals when shit came to a head in every other aspect of their lives. College admissions came in. Sokka got a half-scholarship to Ba Sing Se University, cementing that as his choice. Azula made it home and went into psychiatric care. And Ozai’s legal battles began. It turned out there were a lot of hoops to jump through: arraignments, hearings, trials, sentencing.

But somehow, through all that, Sokka and Zuko found time to be with one another. Zuko had, adorably nervously, asked him on “a real date where nothing bad happens and no one interrupts.” Shockingly, they managed that, both of them wondering out loud when the shoe would drop with a dramatic revelation. (The only dramatic revelation was that the waitress accidentally gave Sokka sweet potato fries instead of regular, but that was kind of a win.)

Graduation came, and with it all of the trials of figuring out what came next. Suki was headed West, Sokka was staying close by, Zuko was taking a year off to get his head straight and, as he put it, “figure out who I am independent of my family.”

The summer was the best of Sokka’s life. There was work at the lobster boats to be done, sure, but long evenings with his friends, or getting to know Zuko, or-- the best-- both at the same time. There were firsts, like Zuko meeting his family, or hanging out tentatively with Mai in tow, or Sokka spending more time with Iroh and losing to him at Pai Sho. Or, you know, finally being able to share a bed occasionally without needing to rescue Toph from a murderous English teacher.

Still, it was over too quickly, and when Suki left, a scary little hole of fear that he hadn’t been aware of opened up.

That fear got worse with going away to school. It wasn’t like he was going far: Ba Sing Se, depending where you were coming from, was two hours tops from Omashu. But it was new, and a little scary. What if he couldn’t hack it in the big city, away from his small Omashu pond?

But he got used to it, one step at a time. Haru being a bro helped. And making time for Zuko helped, too. Sometimes Zuko would take the bus up to Ba Sing Se for the weekend, and the two of them (sometimes with Haru along for the ride) would explore the city or the campus.

Other weekends, Sokka would go home, do laundry, and hang with his family. Zuko usually came along for that, too. At first he had been incredibly anxious about making a good impression, but Gran Gran had been so taken by him that he now sometimes came over to watch Family Feud with her and Katara when Sokka was away.

Sundays were often spent doing homework at the Jasmine Dragon with Zuko while he took shifts or worked on his own school applications.

It was one of those Sundays that, for the first time in years, Yue called Sokka.

Facetimed him, in fact. He had been deep into his problem set, doodling in his notebook to prevent himself from doodling in the margins so he could resell his used textbook at the end of the semester, when his phone lit up with her cross-eyed face with the tongue out, the silly photo he had set for her contact four years ago.

He had been so startled he knocked the phone to the floor. It rattled across the tiles.

Zuko was on his break and deep into a book about marshes (he was on a real kick to figure out what, exactly, he was interested in for when he went to school). At this sudden one-man chaos, he looked up at Sokka, then down at the phone on the floor.

“I’ll be right back,” Sokka said, grabbing his phone and more or less sprinting out of the tea shop into the cool fall air. The phone had already stopped ringing by the time he got outside, but he hit Call Back immediately, praying he hadn’t missed his opportunity.

She picked up right away. “Sokka, hi,” she said. She looked older and healthy and happy, and he could have died of surprise.

He just shook his head, recovering himself. “Uh, hi,” he said, shoving down the emotions that had risen up. “How've you been?”

They talked for an hour, first shy, nervous, about school and the pure logistics of where they were both living these days.

But eventually, she told him what had happened four years ago. What he’d been wondering about so long: the foster mom she’d stayed with for a month while the courts figured out what to do with her, the great uncle with a lawyer wife who had gotten involved, raised his hand to take her in, all the way across the country in Seattle.

“It was a really hard time,” she said. “Um, I was having a really hard time dealing with everything, and I just.. I couldn’t handle having you see how fucked up my life was. And then, I just didn’t want to think about my old life at all. I just… blocked it out. But Sokka, I’m sorry for blocking you out--”

“Don’t apologize, Yue, please,” he said in a rush. “I’m the one who needs to say sorry, I should have figured something else out--”

“Sokka,” she said firmly. “Let me talk. I’ve finally been thinking more about things lately, and… you did the right thing, okay? Yeah, you should have given me a heads up so I didn’t get, like, blindsided, but we were just young and stupid. I forgive you for that, okay?”

Sokka couldn’t breathe.

“Do--” She hesitated. “Do you forgive me for leaving you hanging?”

He nodded. It wasn’t a question. It had never even occurred to him that there might be anything he could forgive her for.

She had smiled at him, then, let out a long breath like she had been nervous about this, too. Neither of them said anything for a long time, before she asked about Katara, let the conversation go back toward easier topics.

Still, before they hung up, Sokka couldn’t hold himself back from asking. “But you’re-- you’re okay? You’re really okay?” Sokka asked one last time before they hung up.

She always had the best smiles, bright as the moon. “I’m really, really okay, Sokka. I’d even dare to say good.”

Shortly after they hung up, the glass doors of the Jasmine Dragon swung open and shut. Zuko must have been checking in on him periodically, because he was out here, apron and all, coming to sit next to Sokka on the curb. He knew about Yue a little from Sokka, but most specifics were from Katara and Suki. Still, he had never pressed Sokka about it, just let him be, and accepted Sokka’s occasional neuroses around wanting to know he was alive. “Was that--”

“Yeah,” Sokka said.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Sokka said again, before startling them both by dissolving into sobs.

For the past four years, had never let himself dream about the possibility that Yue might be fine, good even. That had felt like letting himself off the hook.

And it had never even occurred to him that he might someday be forgiven.

Zuko let him cry it out. He didn’t say anything, just sat close to him on the curb, one hand resting at the point where his back and neck met. Fallen leaves from the trees that lined the parking lot rustled past them in the breeze. Customers coming in and out of the Jasmine Dragon occasionally did a double take, but kept moving, especially when Zuko faced them with a fierce glare.

Sokka felt scared, almost. He was supposed to be the protector, make everything better. Not losing his shit like this.

He might have felt embarrassed about his display if he wasn’t also so relieved that Zuko was there.

He got control of himself pretty quickly and they moved on, Zuko seeming to sense to let the moment pass by unremarked upon, but still taking care to be extra kind for days after. But still, Sokka found himself remembering that moment in the coming months, at school when he felt alone, or when someone he cared about was suffering, or when Zuko was stressed or seemed distant. Sokka would try to remember: the feeling of being forgiven, of forgiving, and the feeling of someone sitting there beside him, no matter what.

He didn't know what the future held, but his past was starting to feel like something he could handle. And the present was pretty okay, too.

*

Zuko was waiting in the usual spot by the turnaround. He grinned when he saw Sokka’s truck, ran right over. “Ten minutes counts double when it’s February,” he said as he got in, mock crabby.

Sokka folded Zuko’s cold hands into his warm ones, lifted them to his mouth, and breathed hot air into them. “Poor little Zuko, all alone in the cold for ten whole minutes. Let the record show I got it down to nine.”

“Still counts as eighteen,” Zuko said, smiling at Sokka. He took his hands back to bring Sokka in close for a long kiss. They saw each other most weekends, but the reunions still felt like a fresh joy each time.

Sokka didn't pull away until someone behind them in the turnaround honked. He put the truck in gear, getting his breath back. “Is it technically our anniversary around nowish?” he asked Zuko once they were moving.

Zuko paused. “Huh,” he said. “What a concept.”

“Not totally sure how to calculate that, to tell you the truth,” Sokka said.

“Well, in that case I vote we just make an executive decision and say yes.” Zuko brushed a hair that had loosed from Sokka’s hair band back behind his ear.

They spent the ride catching up-- Sokka had been fairly MIA with midterms this week. They were nearly all the way back when Sokka’s phone rang, a Facetime from Katara. Zuko took the phone out of Sokka’s cupholder and answered. “Hey Katara,” he said.

“Zuko! This is perfect, we need Science Bowl advice,” said Katara.

“What?” said Sokka from the driver’s seat. Zuko turned the phone toward him. There were two video boxes on the screen-- one person hadn’t picked up yet, but the other showed Katara’s grinning face. “You’re asking Zuko for Science Bowl advice instead of me?”

“Well, we called you,” Katara said.

“Two for the price of one,” Aang added, crowding his face into the screen. Katara held the phone at arm’s length. Sokka could tell, even out of the corner of his eye, that they were in Bumi’s classroom.

He felt a pang of nostalgia. “You at practice? Who’s winning?”

“We won!” yelled Toph from her corner of the screen. “Me and On Ji crushed Katara and Teo!”

“I wouldn’t say crushed,” protested a shy-sounding voice. Katara had told Sokka about the new freshmen. On Ji, reportedly, read every book she could get her hand on, and was a true generalist in the making-- but was still nervous on the buzzer.

“On Ji, you gotta own your successes, girl,” said Toph.

“It was close,” said Katara. “Teo got that one about airfoils. Sokka, we found a new aerospace nerd.” She pointed the camera toward the team’s two new players. He’d heard about them from her over winter break, but he hadn’t ever laid eyes on them before.

Still, he remembered what Katara had told him. Teo, the other freshman who was a little raw, but knew a weird amount about physics and mechanics from his engineer dad. “Teo, right, Katara said I would have a bromance with your dad.”

Teo laughed offscreen. “Well, next time you’re back in town, I’ll introduce you.”

The other square lit up as the call recipient picked up. It was Suki, earbuds in, clearly walking somewhere. “Hi, hi!” she said, panting. “Just got out of class. Oh my God, are you guys in Bumi’s room? Hi Sokka! Hi Zuko!”

Sokka felt a pang, hearing her voice. He missed Suki more than anyone. The whole reason he had opted to stay in Ba Sing Se (other than the partial scholarship) was because he was still within an hour and a half’s drive from everyone he cared about, ready to come back to them if they needed him. (Or if he needed to be needed, some part of him that was growing up a little whispered.)

And then his best friend had gone and flung herself all the way across the country to Republic City. Wan Shi Tong University was the best in the country for Chemistry-- for sciences in general, really-- and Suki had gotten in.

She had found out on the way back from nationals, checked her email in the airport and let out a shriek of shock. But even as everyone group hugged her, already high on the excitement of coming back as champions, Sokka already felt a little core of sadness.

Still, as Suki pointed out, it was probably good for them to practice not being codependent with one another. And there were holiday breaks, and texts exchanged with every crush and midterm and party, and moments like these. “Hi Suki!” he said back.

“Wait, wait, Suki, I need to show you something,” Katara’s voice said as Sokka pulled into the freshman parking lot. Zuko handed him the phone back, and leaned close on his shoulder to watch Katara’s camera waver wildly through Bumi’s classroom. Finally, she got to the wall. There, next to the snakeskins pinned to the corkboard, was the old paper and bamboo fan. “Look, we’ve got the captain fan in a place of honor.”

Suki had passed it on to Katara-- maybe it had finally become purely the captain fan after all, Sokka finally conceded after two years-- and while Katara had no interest in carrying around a half-broken fan, she appreciated tradition as much as the next person. Sokka had no doubt she’d hand it off to Aang or Toph next year.

Or maybe they’d be co-captains. Sokka had to smile at that mental image. “So what kind of advice were you calling about?” he asked.

“We’ve got regionals this weekend. I just figured maybe y’all would have some advice for these peeps, since it’ll be their first time.” Katara flipped the camera back around. She and Aang were squeezed together, sitting on one desk. Toph was kicked back as per usual. The two freshmen were clustered around Katara’s Greek and Latin roots packets.

“Oh, gosh, advice,” said Suki. “Probably just don’t be scared to buzz. You know more than you think you do. And take notes on bonuses.”

“Don’t interrupt unless you’re sure,” Zuko said, then added with a smirk, “And don’t fall for anyone on the other team.”

“Okay, do interrupt if you’re pretty sure,” Sokka objected. “Just make sure you don’t blurt. And, you know what, do fall for someone on the other team. That worked out solid for me.”

Katara pretended to throw up. Aang, next to her, smiled. “I don’t know why we called you at all," Katara said. "Teo, On Gi, you’re gonna be fine. We should probably go, I owe everyone milkshakes.”

“Or bubble tea!” called Toph.

“Say hi to Bumi,” Suki said. “Love y’all.”

“Love y’all,” Sokka echoed, smiling. Then there was only the silence of the car, the sound of Zuko’s breathing, close to his ear from leaning in.

His ex-nemesis leaned his head on his shoulder. “You happy?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’m just… I’m really glad they’re having fun,” Sokka said.

Zuko gave him a soft smile. He reached down to release Sokka’s seatbelt, then pulled him in for a kiss. “Me too,” he said, words gentle against Sokka’s lips, before going back for more.

Eventually, it got cold enough that they decided they’d be better off in Sokka’s dorm. Still, Zuko’s hand in his, and the glow of happiness from seeing his friends all together back in Bumi’s classroom, kept Sokka warm the whole long cold slog back.

Because, he reflected, it was never about the science. Well, not just about the science. And it was never about the winning, either, not really, although winning sure was fun.

It was about the friends (and the enemies) that you made along the way.

*
*
the end
*
*

Chapter Text

*

Between Chapters 2 and 3 (after Sokka’s coffee incident at the Jasmine Dragon, before regionals)

“Physics, toss-up, short answer. Two charges, Q and -Q, are placed at x = -3 and x = +1 on the x-axis. Where on the x-axis between +Q and -Q can another charge be placed so that it experiences no net force?”

Zuko’s mind raced. He visualized two charges, one positive, one negative. He saw the force, applied directionally, pressing down. He ran through the calculations in Coulomb’s Law. That couldn’t be right. Force was always going to be applied.

He hesitated. Azula stared daggers at him from the captain’s seat. Now that was force.

“Time,” said Piandao. “The answer was nowhere, or, does not exist. That’s the end of the round. Good practice, everyone.”

Well, fuck.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the physics expert here, Zuzu?” Azula asked. “Or am I going to have to spend the rest of the week cramming more formulae into my brain?”

“Trick question,” he said. “I wasn’t sure.”

“Well, that’s no excuse,” she replied. “Get sure.”

Ty Lee gave Zuko a sympathetic look from Azula’s other side. He ignored it. If things got worse between him and Azula than they already were right now, he knew which side she’d land on. Better to just let this fizzle.

Piandao, the fencing coach who had gotten roped into running Science Bowl, watched all this. His normally impassive face was betrayed only by a furrowed brow. “All right, all right,” he said as he stood up. “No need to argue. You’ve really worked hard. I think you’ve got a great shot at nationals.”

Azula wrinkled her nose. “A shot? There are two bids. We’re making nationals. It’s not like any of the other schools are gonna beat us.”

“The Omashu kids played us pretty close last year,” Mai said, not looking up from the phone she’d taken out as soon as the round was over.

Zuko’s stomach clenched with guilt, as it always did whenever anyone brought up Omashu High. He crumpled up his notes from the round and shoved them into his blazer pocket.

“Ooh, Omashu?” Ty Lee said, eagerly grasping onto the new subject as she began putting away their buzzers. “That’s where Hot Physics Guy goes, right Zuko?”

The guilty feeling in Zuko’s stomach got worse. He remembered blinding pain in his face from the earliest days after his burn. He remembered anger boiling in his brain. He remembered a boy, reaching out to him. He remembered lashing back out with the most harmful words he could summon in that moment, and the startled look that had crossed his face.

Piando gave a loud harrumph. “See you kids this weekend,” he said pointedly, leaving before the discussion could get too scandalous.

“I remember that guy,” Azula said, gathering her books. “He’s not that hot.”

“Hard disagree,” Ty Lee replied as she packed away the last buzzer. Zuko didn’t miss the way her glance shifted to Azula for a moment, as though to check whether she’d gotten a reaction.

Azula frowned. Reaction achieved. “What’s his name? Soaka?” she said.

“Sokka,” said Zuko, a little more forcefully than he meant to.

All three girls stared at him now.

He cleared his throat. “I just saw him at the Jasmine Dragon yesterday,” he said.

It hadn’t been a great moment. For months, Uncle had been telling Zuko that there was always time for redemption, for restoring honor. That if he received an opportunity to do the right thing, he would know when the time came. And then there was the universe, presenting Zuko with a mid-shift opportunity to give a long-owed apology when Sokka, by providence, collided with the glass door and spilled coffee everywhere.

Instead, Zuko had chickened out of his once in a lifetime chance. All he’d done was be awkward and make the tension that existed between him and the Omashu Physics expert worse.

“You saw him?” Ty Lee asked.

“Was he still hot?” Mai asked, voice so dry Zuko couldn’t parse out just how many levels of irony she was layering on.

“Did he look like he was ready for the competition?” Azula asked. Eyes on the prize.

“What would that even look like?” Zuko asked his sister. He chose not to address the hotness question, because that answer was a resounding yes.

“Arm full of textbooks. New glasses to make up for the eye strain of poring over theorems late into the evening.” Azula swung her book bag over her shoulder. “Never mind. It’s not like those peasants have a chance against us.”

Zuko couldn’t help but cringe as the words left her mouth, casually, without thought. So that’s what they sounded like.

Fuck. He really, really had to apologize. No matter how nervous he felt. This weekend might be his last chance.

He jammed his hands into his pocket and followed his sister out of the classroom, Ty Lee and Mai lagging behind. They walked out into the hall. Their activities period was over. Now, Ty Lee would go off to ballet. Mai would go to her special college-level math classes. Zuko had fencing. And Azula…

Zuko had the sudden urge to rub his scar. Azula was going to go do whatever it was Azula was doing these days.

“Are you going to Iroh’s for dinner tonight? Azula asked him abruptly as they headed down the hall.

“Um, yeah,” Zuko said.

Azula’s phone dinged. She automatically took it out, scrolled through several notifications, barely reading them as she kept walking and talking. “Can I come?”

The urge to touch his face got stronger. “Uh, if you want,” he said.

“Great. Text me when you’re going. I have to go study.” She turned, and headed off toward the library.

Zuko let the other two girls head away as well. He stood there for several seconds, stomach twisting, before taking out his phone.

>> Zuko: Uncle, just a heads up that Azula wants to come to dinner.
>> Zuko: Sorry.

A pause for several seconds, dots displaying in their text thread as Iroh painstakingly typed out a response.

>> Uncle Iroh: Why are you sorry, nephew? Thank you for letting me know. I will buy some cherries for her. From, Your Uncle Iroh.

Zuko smiled, but he couldn’t shake the foreboding that had come up. The FBI investigation against Ozai had been open on for months, but Iroh had been quietly accumulating his own information to augment their case. Zuko was pretty sure Ozai and Azula were onto him, at least.

He tapped out another response.

>> Zuko: Just make sure you lock up anything that you don’t want her to see.
>> Uncle Iroh: So thoughtful of you to mention. Please do not worry, I keep all important documents safe. Be well, and see you and your sister tonight. All best, Your Uncle.

Zuko sighed, and put his phone away. He wasn’t in a good position to get onto Azula’s bad side right now– not with her scrounging out every piece of information about Iroh that she could get from Zuko (and Ty Lee– and Mai– which was the part that really sucked.) But it was too bad Azula was coming, he thought as he walked alone down the hallway. He really could have used a pep talk from his uncle on how to apologize to Sokka.

Still, he could call up any number of pep talks from Iroh in his mind. “It is usually best to admit mistakes when they occur, and seek to restore honor,” he had told Zuko once, using the opportunity of having dealt a customer the incorrect change at the Jasmine Dragon to impart meaningful life lessons.

Zuko smiled at the memory. He was going to apologize this weekend. He had to. It was the only way to restore honor. To make things right with a boy who deserved better.

*

During Chapter 6 (the party at Jet’s house)

The throb of the electronic bassline vibrated in Mai’s chest. Outwardly, she was still (“Be still, Mai,” the voice of her mother omnipresent in her mind), but inwardly, she was tapping her foot and nodding her head in rhythm as the music built and built in tempo and volume. She didn’t like it, per se, but it had a beat that was hard to ignore.

Suki, the Omashu Science Bowl captain who had gone toe-to-toe with Azula on all things chemistry today, plunked back down on the other side of the faded corduroy couch with a fresh beer in hand. She wasn’t still at all, jiggling her knee and fiddling with that little paper fan she seemed to always have nearby.

She grinned at Mai, saying something indistinguishable over the sound of the music and the Omashu high schoolers starting to crowd the house. “What?” said Mai.

The couch was so saggy that it was hard to move. Suki clambered over the beaten-up cushions with effort, cheap beer dangerously close to slopping out. “You like this music?” she asked, leaning in close toward Mai’s ear so she could speak without shouting.

Mai shrugged. The bass dropped. In the background, she caught the sound of Ty Lee’s shriek as she hit a cup in beer pong.

Suki smiled, the understuffed cushions pressing her hip-to-hip with Mai. “You hate it.”

Mai hated most things, but for some reason, she didn’t altogether hate this moment. “I liked what you were playing before they changed it,” she said.

“Dubstep has it’s place, but I’m fucking sick of it,” said Suki, settling back into the couch and setting her little papr fan down on the coffee table.

“What’s its place?” Mai asked. “Hell?”

Suki grinned, took a swig of her drink. It was nice when someone took her deadpan jokes as just that– jokes. “It’s more tolerable when you’re a little tipsy.”

Mai considered this for a moment, then held her hand out.

The other girl raised her eyebrows, then handed her the beer. “What happened to being a politician’s kid?”

“Not like anyone here knows me,” said Mai. She sipped the beer, and despite every ounce of social grace and emotional suppression she had learned over her life, she was unable to keep from making a disgusted face.

Suki laughed, but it wasn’t a mean laugh. Mai quite liked it, actually. It came easily, and frequently, from what she had observed throughout seasons of Science Bowl, and especially today.

They traded sips of the beer, further opinions on music, and Science Bowl stories, back and forth. Occasionally, Mai glanced over at the table where Ty Lee and Azula were deep in competition at the beer pong table. They had a good crowd of students surrounding them– Aang kept going for fancy trick shots to keep the playing field level, and as new kids walked into the party, they were drawn toward the crowd and the noise.

With Azula and Ty Lee otherwise engaged, Mai felt invisible. Like she could be no one, or anyone. She looked back at Suki. This couch situation was more interesting, anyway.

“What do you think Sokka and Zuko are getting up to?” Suki asked, kicking her legs up on the coffee table.

Mai let out a short huff of laughter. “If it’s up to Zuko, probably making out,” she said, finishing the beer. “He’s had a weird thing about Sokka forever.”

“Funny, I was gonna say the same thing about Sokka.” Suki raised her eyebrows at Mai.

It was funny, thinking about Zuko in this moment. Mai knew consciously that half a beer shouldn’t barely be enough to loosen her inhibitions too far beyond normal. But her inhibitions were so intense that noticing even this small crack felt strange. “He was my first boyfriend, actually.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Suki said, drawing her legs back in and turning her whole body to face Mai on the couch with gleeful incredulity. “Sokka was mine.”

Loud, the music was so loud. Mai found herself unable to resist returning Suki’s infectious smile, despite a spike of mixed jealousy and disappointment that coursed through her, as sudden and unexpected as a lightning strike. “When was that?” she asked.

Suki waved a hand, making a face. The jealousy eased off. “Oh, a million ago when we were lil babes. Turns out I’m more on the extremely gay side.”

Mai laughed, something in her startled and thrilled at the easy way the words left Suki’s mouth. The only person who she’d ever had a conversation with like this before was Zuko, and that had been stilted and nervous and honest and awkward, mid-breakup. Not loose and jokey and almost an afterthought.

So she let the ease of it pull her in. “Me, too,” she said, just like that. Like it was that easy.

“Oh, yeah?” Suki said, voice casual, but with an edge of– something that made Mai’s pulse quicken.

There was a cheer from behind them– something in the beer pong game apparently, but neither of them were paying attention. The air smelled like something heavy and vegetal that Mai assumed, but didn’t know for sure, was pot. Somehow, the music, the slams of the door open and shut as more teens from this side of the tracks came and went, the loud and increasingly drunk conversations– but this couch was a little bubble, and Mai was suspended inside, anonymous, free.

She shrugged at Suki. “I think so. I mean, I haven’t completed a– a– bivariate analysis on the situation yet.”

Suki looked at her for a long second, and then burst out laughing, one hand coming to Mai’s knee as she cracked up. “You absolute fucking nerd.”

Mai really liked making her laugh.

Suki leaned in, leaving her hand where it was. “Want me to help with your analysis?” she breathed into Mai’s ear, the words buzzing past the music and the conversation around them.

Mai’s breath caught. Her whole world filtered down to the feeling of Suki’s lips near her ear, her hand on her knee. “I mean…” she said, doing everything she could to keep her voice steady. “Adequate sample size is paramount.”

Suki let out another little chuckle, then leaned in close. With the hand not resting on Mai’s knee for balance as she leaned on the deep cushions, she pushed her hair out of her face and kissed her.

Mai closed her eyes. She leaned in, one hand awkwardly reaching until it found purchase on Suki’s shoulder. Suki smiled, and kissed her again. And for the first time in– days? Weeks?-- Mai’s thinking mind turned off completely.

At least, until a new song started. Mai remembered that they were in a crowded living room and pulled back.

Suki looked at her. “Hi,” she said, a warm grin breaking out over her face.

“Hi,” Mai replied, unable to keep from smiling back. She looked down, suddenly a little shy. She never showed this many emotions in public.

“Azula, what are you doing?” came Ty Lee’s voice.

Mai glanced over her shoulder, through the crowds of people dispersing after the beer pong match. She locked eyes with Azula, who was pointing the little rectangle of her phone in the direction of Mai and Suki.

Suki followed her gaze. “What? What is it?”

Shit. Shit. Mai struggled to find words. Stupid. So stupid.

Azula gave her a smirk, and put the phone away. Shit.

“All right, Mario Kart in the attic,” came the booming voice of the gigantic Omashu kid with a beard. “Dibs first round against Smellerbee.”

Suki grabbed Mai’s arm. “Did she– was Azula filming us?”

Mai wanted badly to lean into her grip, but she pulled away instead. Bad idea to pour gasoline on a fire. She ignored the stab of emotion that filled her when she saw guilt and hurt cross Suki’s face.

The giggling group of girls who had come in a few minutes ago followed the Omashu boys upstairs, along with the pot smokers and the guy who had changed the music to the dubstep. Aang was busy doing some kind of complicated victory handshake with Toph as a few other Omashu kids started setting up for a new game. Ty Lee’s eyes flickered back and forth between Mai and Azula, who was headed toward the couch with a smirk on her face. “What’s going on over here?” she said, voice fake-innocent.

One of the kids setting up the next beer pong knocked an empty can into the sink. It let out a little chime.

Mai knew never to display weakness in front of Azula. She rearranged her face into something dead and devoid of emotion. “Who won beer pong?”

“The Omashu kids, obviously. That game is stupid.”

Suki watched this conversation with an increasingly incredulous look on her face. Mai felt bad, but she needed to be doing damage control, assessing what Azula had or didn’t have. The degree to which Azula could make life hell for Mai if she got her parents involved.

Suki didn’t know how things were with Azula. “What the hell?” she said, standing up from the couch. “Were you fucking filming us?”

Azula just smirked.

More commotion, shouting from upstairs. Suki looked up sharply. Clattering footsteps– some kids were going upstairs, but the biology girl from Omashu– Katara?-- was coming down, mascara running down her face. She came toward Suki, who tore her gaze from Azula. “What? What happened?”

Katara heaved out a breath. “Jet broke up with me,” she said, voice wobbling, before another sob overtook her. Aang went to her other side, and Suki, somehow, was already in a different mode, a friend mode. It made Mai almost dizzy–and again, there was that stab of jealousy. This time, though, it was less romance and more just a small space of hurt inside her seeing a group of friends supporting one another without hesitation.

She felt sweaty and a little sick. It took something out of her to maintain her outward composure. Still, she turned to Azula. “Did you post it anywhere?” she asked in a low voice.

Azula gave a little shrug, but her eyes were sharp and deadly serious. “I would never do that to such a loyal friend.”

Mai sighed. The Omashu kids had one kind of friendship. This was a different kind. “What do you want?”

“I’m just worried about Zuko,” Azula said. “I think our uncle is using him to smear my father’s good name. He’s so easily manipulated.”

Sometimes Mai reached a point where her thoughts flew so fast and hard that they hit a wall, like a bird hitting against glass and sliding to the ground below. She felt herself reach that point now. She felt dull, dead inside. So Azula wanted her to help spy on Zuko, too, huh? Just like poor little Ty Lee.

She did the only thing she could do that kept her in any power. Her only option, so much of the time. She crept into herself and stayed still, staid, and silent, face without expression, neither confirming or denying what Azula said.

Azula gave her a long look. Mai stared back steadily, in that space somehow beyond emotion. She knew Azula wouldn’t act until Mai committed one way or another.

Azula broke her gaze first. “Just bear it in mind,” she said, tapping her phone meaningfully before putting it into her pocket.

Mai nodded. Then– mistake. She glanced at Suki. Azula didn’t miss it.

Suki’s arm was around Katara, who was blurting out some kind of breakup tale to her and Aang. But Suki’s eyes were on Azula and Mai. She met Azula’s gaze evenly. Fiercely. Mai would have admired her for it if she didn’t need so desperately to just make all this go away.

Azula didn’t look away. What she did do was aim a casual kick at the coffee table, knocking a couple rattling, empty beer cans to the floor– along with Suki’s fan. Then she took one deliberate step backward and ground the heel of her boot into the little paper and wood object.

Mai had no idea what the significance of that stupid thing was– only that every year she’d played against Omashu at Science Bowl, their captain had been flipping it open and shut. But when she looked up and saw the startled look of-- not anger, but sadness, on Suki's face-- all she knew was that Azula had broken something important.

And it was her fault.

The room was much quieter now that so many people had gone up to play video games. It got quieter still when Toph crossed the room toward the blasting speaker, felt around for the cord, and yanked it out of the wall. Mai's ears rang from the absence of the beat.

"Will somebody tell me what's going on?" Toph said to Aang, who had taken all this in with a worried expression.

He looked around at the crying Katara, the staredown between Azula and Suki, Ty Lee biting her fingernails, the broken fan on the floor. "I'm... gonna go find Sokka and Zuko," he said.

Mai sat back down on the couch while Ty Lee went to Azula’s side. She avoided Suki's eyes, already trying to forget the easy words and electric energy that had passed between them. She had a duty to her family. And if that meant squashing all this down– doing whatever Azula wanted until she could claw some leverage back– she'd do what she had to do.

*

During Chapter 7 (between the party and the boarding school break-in)

The hallway behind the gymnasium at Sozin Academy was less well-maintained and recently renovated than the rest of the campus. That almost made it feel a little comforting to Ty Lee. At least someplace in this school didn’t make her feel like an imposter, a faker, a pretender.

She followed Azula down the corridor, their uniform black patent leather loafers tip-tapping against the linoleum floors, hurrying to keep up with her friend’s power walk. “Where are we going?” Ty Lee asked.

Azula didn’t break her stride. “Boys’ locker room,” she said.

“Why?”

They were approaching the door to the locker room. Azula stopped short. Ty Lee’s stomach dropped under her friend’s intense gaze. “I have to do something for Zuko,” she said.

“What?”

“It’s for his own good,” Azula said. She reached out to the other girl, ran a hand down her arm, and met her eyes. Ty Lee shivered. “You’ll help me, won’t you?” she continued.

Ty Lee’s heart raced. Lately, conversations with Azula felt like a trip across a tightrope. She thought of Mai, her face startled and scared after the video incident in Omashu, and her stomach clenched. “Of course I will,” she said.

“Good.” Azula squeezed Ty Lee’s arm. “Then wait out here. If Zuko comes back from fencing, keep him distracted and let me know, okay?”

Before Ty Lee could protest, her friend was gone.

She waited in the hallway. She scrolled one-handed through her Instagram on her fancy iPhone (a hand-me-down from Azula), unable to keep from chewing on the fingernails of her other hand. A terrible habit– any of her sisters would smack her if they saw her– but one she’d picked back up lately.

Things had been really bad with Azula. Ty Lee never knew who was going to show up on a given day– her friend who helped her navigate the unfamiliar waters of Sozin Academy, who protected her from teachers that were unkind about some of the gaps that her spotty early childhood schooling had left in her education, who had kissed her, sometimes, in the woods behind the school– or the one who was cutting and cruel, who knew all her weak spots and could use them to shatter her confidence, who sometimes pretended that the kissing had never happened.

She didn’t know everything that went on with Azula– it wasn’t like her best friend was particularly forthcoming– but Ty Lee wasn’t stupid. Something was going on with Azula’s family. There had been phone calls, lately, ones Ty Lee only heard Azula’s half of, with sharp, short, obedient responses, fingernails tapping nervously on tables. She had been asking about Zuko, quite a lot– mostly about if he had said anything about his uncle. And she had been getting as much leverage as she could– over Zuko, over her friends– in service of that information.

Zuko had pretty much stopped telling her anything, either. Ty Lee had no idea what to do. And no one to ask. Mai would probably just tell her to stop talking to Azula altogether, like she pretty much had since the party. But Mai was from a rich family, too. If this all went to shit for her, she’d just switch schools and move on with her life. If Ty Lee messed things up for Azula, whose family name was on several of the buildings on campus, who was to say what would happen? She’d lose her scholarship– lose her fancy ballet lessons– lose every chance she had to break out of the mold of her sisters’ boring lives.

And she’d lose that friend, too, that one she knew still had to be in there somewhere. Right? She had to be. If Ty Lee was good enough and kind enough, she could get her back. Right?

“Ty Lee?”

There was Zuko, coming down the hallway, his fencing partner Hide alongside him. Their masks were in their hands, epees at their side.

“Hi, Zuko!” Ty Lee said, loudly as she dared toward the locker room door. “Hi, Hide. How was fencing?”

Hide grunted, went into the locker room. Ty Lee prayed Azula was out of sight.

Zuko scratched his head. “It was good. Uh, what are you doing here?”

Ty Lee’s mind raced. Keep him talking. “Waiting for you!” she said. “Um, I wanted to check if we had extra practice this week.”

“Friday, I assume, unless Azula said something different.” He eyed her. “You should probably just ask her.”

“Oh, yeah. Good call. I mean, what I really wanted to ask…” She let her voice get low and conspiratorial. “Did anything happen? You know, with Sokka?”

A small smile appeared on Zuko’s face, so soft Ty Lee wasn’t sure if it was making her jealous or just sad. Then he fought it back and shrugged. “I think we’re going to hang out sometime soon,” he said, hand going to the back of his neck.

Yeah, maybe it was sadness, that he didn’t even trust her with the basics of who he liked anymore. “Cool,” she said. “I hope it works out.”

“Um, yeah,” he said. “Anyway, I’m gonna go shower. See you at practice.”

He walked into the locker room before she could say anything else. She waited with bated breath, leaning against the door to see if she could hear the sounds of Azula.

Nothing except muffled conversation between Zuko and Hide, and then the echoey rush of showers. A minute later, Azula burst out of the door. Her hair was messy, her eyes wild. She shoved a phone– not her normal phone– into her bag. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

Ty Lee glanced at her bag with sudden misgiving. “What did you have to do?”

“Send some texts,” she said, setting off back down the hallway. “I finished in time. Thanks for the heads up, I hid behind some lockers.”

“What kind of texts?” Ty Lee said, pressing as hard as she dared.

Azula stopped short. “Zuko doesn’t know what’s good for him,” she said. “I just– I need to find out what my uncle is up to so he doesn’t blow up our family. And this should help. Okay? Are you happy?”

Ty Lee backed down. “Sure,” she said.

Azula started walking. “I’m going to go call my father, and then I’m going to go get dinner. Would you like to come?”

“I– I have ballet. I have to practice,” Ty Lee said, though she hadn’t planned on doing any such thing.

Azula nodded, looked down at her own phone. They walked down the hallway together, this time at a more leisurely pace. When they were about to part ways where the gymnasium gave way to the various dance studios and workout rooms, Azula paused. “Ty Lee,” she said.

Ty Lee’s stomach was really in knots now. “Yeah?”

“Do you think I’d look good with bangs?” Azula asked, twisting a lock of her hair around her fingers, so tight it looked like it might hurt.

Ty Lee had seen her friend Azula; she’d seen cruel Azula. But she wasn’t sure that she’d ever seen this particular Azula before. “I think you’d look great,” she said, and plastered a smile on her face.

*

Between Chapter 10 and the epilogue (after the Sozin kids’ team falls apart at nationals)

Iroh was desperate for a cup of tea. He was tired, bone-tired. Though the midnight air in Boulder was a little warmer than it was back home, he shivered, for he hadn’t thought to bring a coat when he got on the plane eight hours ago.

He waited at the taxi stand outside the hospital where Azula had been admitted to the psych ward. She wasn’t well enough to travel, they said. Risk of harm to herself and others, they said. Guilt, that old friend, flared inside him. He had been so preoccupied with weaving an elegant but sturdy web of evidence against Ozai, and with caring for his nephew, that he had neglected to consider the harm happening to his niece.

And now here he was, leaving her again.

Just while she sleeps, he told himself.

A taxi pulled up. Iroh got inside, and sighed in relief as he sat his old bones down on the leather seats. “Address?” the driver mumbled.

In a less stressful moment, Iroh would have made it his mission to get this tired-looking man chatting. There was nothing more refreshing than a conversation with a fascinating stranger. But tonight, he was a tired-looking man himself, and he was troubled by many things.

So he greeted the driver politely but briefly, and read him off the motel address Zuko had sent him. The place where he was staying with his new friends. It was well out of town.

As they drove in silence, Iroh’s cell phone dinged. How he hated the thing. Still, it was how business and communication were conducted these days. A text message appeared on his screen. One of his contacts in Hong Kong. Further information about Ozai. Iroh dismissed it without looking at it. He could follow up in the morning, sure. It was out of his hands, now. He had handed his startled contact in the FBI white collar crimes edition every shred of evidence he had been able to gather against his younger brother’s crimes against humanity. “Iroh,” the woman had told him. “Let me start with the racketeering and go from there.”

That had barely been half a week ago. The FBI had moved quickly. It wasn’t exactly clear what they were going to charge Ozai with– though Iroh was pretty sure everything was on the table from A to Z (or, Aggravated Assault to Wire Fraud– his contact at the bureau had liked that joke when he made it). But District Attorney Pakku was a cautious one– he’d start with what he knew he could push through. And that was the empty warehouses in Hong Kong that were a front for the nascent “green” energy wing of the company, the violation of maximum political campaign contributions… the crimes against the IRS and the shareholders.

Iroh had been enmeshed in that world, long long ago. He had left Azulon Energy at the top of his game– left it in Ozai’s hands– when dear Lu Ten passed away. Now, he was just an old man with a tea shop, trying his best to make amends. He had been so worried on his trip to Hong Kong that he was too old a dog to remember this particular trick.

But old habits die hard, and by the end Iroh had turned up far more evidence against his brother than he could have imagined. Turned up? Blackmailed, bartered, and threatened with fire-hot words might be better, he thought. It had been hard not to take pleasure in it– and more ego than he cared to witness in himself. To beat his brother one last time.

That savage joy had gone from him since the arrest. Now, he just felt tired, and more than a little dirty. Particularly that he had held onto this evidence until the moment that Zuko and Azula were away from home at their competition.

It was for their safety, or so he had intended. But it seemed that that plan had backfired, and hard. His heart hurt again when he thought about Azula, sedated in bed, hands restrained, talking nonsense about her mother. He had built the case against Ozai with care and deliberation, yes. But who had paid most dearly, in the end, for his cautions and success?

He took his phone back out and texted his nephew that he was nearly to the motel. Zuko responded right away. Iroh hated that his young nephew was awake right now, probably giving himself an ulcer with worry over everything that had happened with Ozai instead of having fun and doing the Science Game with his friends.

The parking lot was dark, orange sodium vapor lights illuminating a shabby motel. Standing face to face against the wall of the motel, close to each other’s space, were two young men. Yes, there was Zuko–his lanky, strong Zuko who needed a haircut, bag at his side. It made him smile to see them there, eyes fixed only on each other, making quiet conversation.

He asked the cab driver to wait around for another fare. The man grumbled but acquiesced when Iroh managed to dredge up the dregs of his charisma, and give a wink that at least implied a good tip.

Iroh left the cab running behind him, and approached the boys. The other one– so this must be Sokka?-- saw him first, and nudged Zuko, who turned. “Uncle,” he said, voice hoarse.

Iroh could have wept, as he had in the hospital while Azula slept beside him. Instead, he took in his nephew, and saw that though his face was drawn and tired, he was– here. He looked shaken but not broken. “Zuko,” he said, and pulled him in for a long, hard hug.

“It’s over?” Zuko said finally, when Iroh reluctantly released him. “He’s– he’s in jail?”

Iroh thought of Ozai’s political connections, his shark of a lawyer, his connection through the governor to prisons and the justice system. “It will be a long road,” he said. “But– it’s over for now.”

“How’s Azula?”

Iroh sighed. “Not very well, I’m afraid. I can take you to see her before your flight home tomorrow, if you like.”

Zuko shifted. He glanced back at Sokka, who nodded at him encouragingly. “I– maybe. I don’t know if she wants to see me right now. Or– I don’t know.”

Iroh nodded. It would be a long road for these siblings, too. Ozai had pitted the two of them against each other, like starving dogs forced to fight. And he knew Zuko had gotten the short end of it more often than not.

But maybe that had worked out for him better in the end, Iroh thought, remembering the sadness and terror in Azula’s eyes as she denied that Ozai could possibly be in police custody.

“Uncle?” Zuko said hesitantly. “Um, this is Sokka.”

The other boy, posture ramrod straight, held out his hand. “Hello, sir.”

Iroh looked him up and down. He remembered this one– he’d spilled a drink at the Jasmine Dragon the other day, and it wouldn’t have stuck out in Iroh’s memory so much if Zuko hadn’t mooned about so much afterward– but chose not to bring that moment up. “Sokka,” he said, grasping his hand firmly. “It’s good to meet you. Zuko speaks highly of you. Thank you for being there for him.”

Sokka’s urgency to create a positive impression appeared to relax for a moment. A bright smile stole across his face.

For the first time in what must have been several days, Iroh smiled back. This– this companionship and comfort and care his nephew had been building with another– this, at least, was something to take happiness in.