Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Zuko knows, rationally, that it's normal to be nervous about dropping your kid off for their first day of school – well, nursery, whatever – but rationality isn't making him feel any better right now. To be fair, he thinks most normal kids have spent more than a couple of hours outside their parents' company at some point in the last four years.

It's not like he'd tried to be clingy – but Uncle had given him all the time off he'd needed after Izumi was born, and then he'd gone back to work, waiting tables with a baby strapped to his front or back with a scarf. Once she'd got big enough and aware enough to grab at his tray or interrupt the tea ceremonies, she'd sat happily in the corner of the tea shop to play and be cooed over by the regulars, and then graduated to occasionally toddling around after Zuko and being given the honour of carrying napkins or collecting payment.

When Zuko had come out of surgery, Izumi and Uncle had been there when he'd woken up, and he'd spent his recovery living out of Iroh's spare room, with Mai and Ty Lee doing their coursework at the kitchen table and taking Izumi out so he could get some sleep. He'd felt bad for upending their lives for six weeks, but there had needed to be someone there to manhandle a wriggly toddler who was increasingly frustrated about her daddy's inability to carry her. These days, a couple of times a day, Jin or Song will take Izumi to the park on their break or lunch. But he knows his co-workers and friends. Agni above, Izumi calls them all her aunties, and not just as an honorific. This is leaving her with strangers.

He just doesn't cope well with uncertainty, okay?

Still, he does his damnedest not to let it show as he crouches down to snap a couple of photos of Izumi, bento clutched in one hand and the other wrapped tightly around one leg of her stuffed badgerfrog.

"You've got to smile for the picture, kiddo," he tells her, trying not to laugh at her overly-serious expression. Izumi's brow furrows, but before she can say anything, there's a voice behind him.

"Do you want me to get a photo of you guys together?"

Zuko almost topples as he turns too quickly, catching himself with one hand on the floor, then almost falls again when he sees the guy who asked. Tall, Water Tribe, blue t-shirt stretched tight across his shoulders as he holds his hand out, far too attractive for Zuko's sanity.

Right. His hand.

Zuko very carefully avoids taking it, in a desperate attempt to spare himself the blushing, and grabs his forearm in a more traditional Water Tribe gesture instead. On the downside – it is a downside, honest, and he's not going to let his libido convince him otherwise – doing that means feeling the man's muscles flex under his palm as he hauls Zuko to his feet.

He bites back an appreciative noise that he can already feel rising in his throat and smiles his thanks instead. This is okay. This is fine. This is fine.

"That'd be great, thanks," he says, quietly patting himself on the back at how his voice actually sounds mostly steady, and swings Izumi up onto his hip as she holds her arms up to him. "Oof. You're getting heavier, fireflake." 

"I'm not heavy, it's Druk!" Izumi brandishes her badgerfrog defensively, almost hitting him square in the face.

Hands full, Zuko avoids the blow and instead nudges his nose against her stuck-out lower lip. "What? You're saying you're not a big girl, all grown up and ready for school?"

Izumi folds her arms with a huff, then squeaks and scrambles to not drop her bento. Zuko balances her the best he can with one arm to hold his phone out to the stranger, and does not blush as their fingers brush.

Holy fuck, Zuko. He is twenty-three entire years of age. He has a kid. He is too damn old to be blushing like a teenager because a pretty guy smiled at him. He definitely doesn't have Jin's parting words still ringing in his ears – look on the bright side, Zuko, maybe you'll meet a cute single dad while you're there–

Hot Water Tribe Guy doesn't have a preschooler clinging to his leg, but there are plenty running around on the playground behind him. Zuko tries not to focus on wondering which one might be his, or if one of the other mingling parents is a partner, but at least it's a nice distraction from knowing he's having his picture taken–

Izumi's little hand pat-pats at his cheek just below his scar, badgerfrog knocking into his chin. "Smile for the picture, papa" she parrots, and Zuko turns to look at her properly, kissing her knuckles as she goes to poke him again.

"You think Uncle Iroh will want a picture?" She nods eagerly, like Iroh's apartment isn't already plastered with photos from the last four years. "He's gonna cry about you being all grown up, you know."

Izumi frowns at him, jumping to Iroh's defense with all the aplomb of an affronted small child. "You'll cry too!"

Zuko kisses her forehead and takes a moment to memorise the baby hairs tickling his cheek, the way she huffs out a little breath against his neck as she leans into the attention. "Of course I will, fireflake. I'm going to miss you being at the shop all day. Who am I going to talk to?"

"You're working, papa," Izumi says patiently and it sounds so much like Jin's chiding, every time he starts indulging his daughter's tea parties rather than taking care of actual customers, that he has to laugh.

Spirits, she's got so big.

If he doesn't laugh he swears he's going to tear up, and he has to go to work after this, he can't cry just because it's her first day, and besides, he needs at least one good photo to send to Iroh–

"Is this good?"

Zuko's head snaps back to the guy holding out his phone. "You already–"

He shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. "I always think candids are better, you know? I can take a more posed one if you like, but there's a couple there–"

Zuko hoists Izumi higher on his hip and steadies her with one arm as he takes his phone back – he really needs to stop picking her up every time she makes pathetic polar-puppy eyes at him. At this rate he's going to have wrecked his back before he's twenty-five, and that is not going to help his already-poor balance.

The pictures are– Spirits, they're good. One with Zuko kissing the top of Izumi's head, haloed by the early morning light. Another with his forehead pressed to hers, both laughing.

"Thank you–" he starts, looking up, but the man is gone. Probably disappeared to grab his own kid – the doors are being unlocked and opened. Zuko lowers Izumi back to the ground and takes her hand instead. "Got your lunch? Got Druk?" Of course she does, but he feels like he should at least check.

The woman waving kids in at the door, chatting to parents she clearly recognises, brightens when she sees them. "Oh, you must be the new student we're expecting!" She flashes a smile at Zuko then turns her attention back down. "Izumi, right? I'm Yue."

Zuko loosens his grip on Izumi's hand, and she blinks up at him for a second before sticking it out to Yue and letting the teacher clasp her tiny wrist in a Water Tribe handshake. Yue smiles and releases her after a moment to shape her hands into the sign of the flame, and Zuko takes a moment to be proud of how easily Izumi shapes the flame and bows, despite her usual clumsiness. He never insists that she be polite to her elders simply because they are, but there's still an instinctive pride in seeing how naturally she politely greets her new teacher, the same as when the elderly regulars at the tea shop coo over her manners.

"We've got a cubby here for your shoes and lunch," Yue tells her, leading Izumi over to a low shoe-rack. "Did you bring your slippers to change into?"

"Papa's got them," and an imperious little hand stretched in his direction, although she does happily say "Thank you!" as Zuko hands them to her and pulls a tiredly tolerant face at Yue's little smile. The slippers are new, red and gold, Iroh's gift to Izumi on starting school and costing far more than Zuko would ever countenance spending for something she'll grow out of at an alarming rate.

Izumi carefully slides her shoes into the cubby, tracing the characters of her name with one finger, then fits her bento into the slot above it with a little flourish that wouldn't be out of place in one of the plays she puts on for him. On that topic, Zuko makes a mental note to check in after a week or so to make sure that she's not monopolising the dress-up clothes and bossing the other kids around in her impromptu skits.

"We've got some last bits of paperwork for you to go over," Yue says as she leads them both out of the entryway and into the building proper. "If I finish showing Izumi around and talking her through how the day is going to go, do you want to finish off signing those?" She gestures to a low table through a half-open door, behind a child-gate. "Someone will be over in a moment to go through–" She laughs as her legs are suddenly swarmed by preschoolers, all raucously chorusing her name, and she crouches down to introduce Izumi to them.

Zuko lingers a moment longer to check that Izumi is actually interacting and not cowering behind Yue's legs – she's never normally shy, but this is a whole new setting – then unhooks the child-gate and fastens it behind him as he steps into the office. The cupboards and drawers are all locked, he notes approvingly. Better than one place he'd looked around, where he'd had to quickly avert his eyes to avoid seeing identifying details of every family in the place.

The gate clicks open and closed behind him, and Zuko turns–

"Oh," he says, slightly gobsmacked, then tries to get himself together. "I mean, uh. Hi again. I didn't realise you were staff." The man's wearing a lanyard now that he definitely didn't have earlier, and his hair has been scraped back more neatly, the braids at his temple pulled back into his wolftail rather than hanging loose. Probably a hazard around small children.

"That's fine," he says with a grin, unlocking a cabinet and grabbing some papers as Zuko folds neatly into seiza on a cushion. "And sorry about running off like that – Yue was about to unlock the doors and she was going to get swamped, I needed to go child-wrangle. And I haven't even introduced–" He laughs and shakes his head. "La, first days are always chaotic. Okay, let's try this again – hey, I'm Sokka, I work here, hope the photos turned out well!"

"It's okay." Zuko just about manages not to jolt away as Sokka drops cross-legged onto the cushion next to him, their knees almost bumping. On his bad side, damn. Zuko's own fault for not deliberately sitting at the edge of the table, he guesses – although he tries not to think about the fact that Sokka doesn't seem to be avoiding his scar, like so many people do. "And– The photos turned out really well. Thank you." He angles himself a bit better, turning enough to be able to see the paperwork.

"It's Zuko, right?" Sokka rifles through the papers. "Great, just checking I've got the right ones. Okay, so the detailed stuff is already out of the way, you went through that with On Ji when you registered." He sets a handful of papers aside, the ones where Zuko can see his own signature already attached. "Some quick contact stuff. I'll just copy your details over–"

Zuko glances down at the page and tries not to grimace, something churning deep in the pit of his stomach, and folds his hands in his lap rather than tap them nervously on the table or leave any sort of scorch marks. Sokka's filling out all of Zuko's details under the heading father, which, yes, good, but then he's going to ask about the other–

Sokka pauses, looking down at the page. "Okay, and then– Oh, Tui and La–" He sighs exasperatedly, flicking through the pages. "I swear, every time we get refills of this paperwork from the council we go have you updated the sheets yet and every time they say yes, we're just getting rid of the stock we've already printed, but that excuse is really wearing thin after more than a year–" He scribbles out the headings and changes them to Parent #1 and Parent #2. "Okay. So, are there any details for a second parent? Custodial, non-custodial, either?"

Zuko doesn't even realise he's staring at Sokka until there's a slightly questioning tap of the pen against the table. "Oh, um– No. No other parent. I mean, there is, but. Not involved. Nothing tragic or dramatic, just–" He vaguely waves a hand, and Sokka nods understandingly.

"Not close enough to have details going on Izumi's contact paperwork? Cool, that's fine, although I'm gonna need some sort of secondary contact." Zuko gives Uncle's details, then Jin's as a second back-up just in case, and focuses on keeping his chi centered rather than sparking nervously from his fingertips.

"Sorry if I was being really weird just then–" he blurts out before he can second-guess himself, staring at Sokka's hands as he puts the first sheet to one side to move onto the next. "It's just. That can get kind of awkward sometimes, but I didn't even need to ask and it was just– Surprising. I guess."

"Hey, it's okay." When he glances up, Sokka's smile is broad and warm. "The first time I managed to put down details for having three parents without someone throwing a fit, I swear I nearly bawled. You don't realise how often it happens until it stops happening, you know?"

Zuko finds himself smiling back almost without realising it. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. This was–" He glances down again, stilling his hand where it's playing nervously with the seam of his jeans. "This was the first place Izumi and I visited where someone didn't greet me and then immediately ask her where her mama was."

"Oh, man, that sucks. Like, why would you ask that? There could be all sorts of reasons." Sokka twirls his pen. "This is the only place in town with any male staff, too, as far as I know. Not going to say that we're just generally more progressive, but..." He raises an amused eyebrow, lips pursed, then glances back down at the next page. "Okay, so we've got measures in place for unexpected bending accidents, obviously, but just so we know – likelihood of bending ability, if you have any idea?"

"High," Zuko says dryly, then amends it. "Obviously a lot of benders in one family doesn't mean much one way or another, but there's a long line of firebenders there. Presentation anywhere from sparks at eighteen months and full-blown flames at three–" Thanks for that, Azula. He's been on edge about Izumi's potential bending spontaneously manifesting since she was barely capable of walking. "–to not showing a flame until seven. Fairly varied. All Fire-origin non-benders on the other side, as far as I know." He makes a mental note to check that there aren't any unexpected earthbenders on the other side of the family or anything. It had been in Ba Sing Se, after all.

Sokka scribbles down a few notes. "Just so you know, if she does suddenly start bending, you'll get called to pick her up right away and preferably keep her off for a week or so. We usually say they can start back once they're in some sort of training – you can get how dangerous it could be to have uncontrolled bending in here with this many kids."

Zuko murmurs something in agreement, scratching one wrist. The scar of Azula's tiny flaming hand, where she'd grabbed him after he'd stolen a toy mere weeks after she'd presented her first flame, has completely faded, but he can still remember the look on her face when she'd realised what she'd done.

"When you say training– She's been meditating with me since she was capable of sitting still for more than thirty seconds, although obviously not for very long, and she understands the importance of the breath. I think that if her bending manifests, you should be able to talk her down quite easily." He grimaces. "Well. I say that. Hopefully. My uncle has a lot of training experience–"

"That sort of works on an honour system," Sokka tells him, leaning over the table to grab a pamphlet from a pile. "Training with family will do, if you know what you're doing. We've got a list of various places here too, and there's a bunch that are good for parents with weird schedules, or that are low-cost or can work out a payment system, or that specialise in first-gen bender training – all sorts, really. If she trains with family and it seems to be working, we're not going to insist on her going to a specialist."

Zuko hums his thanks, tucking the pamphlet away in one pocket. Iroh knows his stuff, and he trusts him, and he himself is a master as well. He probably won't need to entrust Izumi's training to anyone else, but it's nice that they've got measures in place.

"Okay, what else?" Sokka shifts through the forms again. "Double-checking – we've got her down as lactose-intolerant, but not so bad we need to avoid cross-contamination. Okay, cool, we can do that. Uh, basic housekeeping stuff. If you haven't already got the office number in your phone, you should, in case you need to call us." He gestures at the phone on the wall. "We might not be able to get to it right away, but if you leave a message we'll always get back to you ASAP. Or, like, if it's urgent, call a couple of times in a row. Someone will be able to drop what they're doing and come get it."

Sokka slides the form across to Zuko, number circled, and he saves it in his phone before he forgets while Sokka is still running through the last few details. "Right, cool, what else... Lunches, you can bring her fresh stuff at lunch if you want, but we usually prefer you to pack lunch. Goes in the cubby you saw, or we do have a small fridge–" He jerks one thumb over his shoulder to the corner of the room. "–if you pack stuff that needs refrigerating. Just let us know. Oh, and the last big one – what languages do you use with her?"

Zuko frowns, hoping he looks puzzled and not angry – the scar fucks with that sometimes. "I thought you taught in Common here?" And wouldn't his father be outraged that someone of his blood was attending a common-tongue school, instead of the expensive Fire-language schools for the recent emigrants to Republic City who wanted their kids raised with homeland traditions.

"Oh, yeah, we do, but this age is really important for character recognition and learning to read, and it's good for them to get exposure to lots of scripts, so–" Sokka pushes himself to his feet and steps around the table, leaning around the half-open door to grab something. "So we do things like this."

Door at the top, in black and in the pidgin script of the common tongue, then below again in green, red, yellow, blue, purple, all different.

"Both Water Tribes?"

Sokka shrugs. "Yue's Northern, I'm Southern, so we do both. Same language, different scripts. My brother-in-law did the air translations, although he says some of them are Southern Temple dialect. And I don't know if you noticed, but we've also got–"

He flattens the label out on the table and slides it under Zuko's hand, their fingers brushing for a moment before Sokka abruptly pulls his hand back, and Zuko's face is flaming. He doesn't dare lift his head to see if Sokka is similarly affected – because let's face it, he absolutely isn't, this is just Zuko being a fucking disaster – and tries to focus on the paper under fingertips.

"Oh. Tenji?"

"Yup! We don't have any kids here who need it, but it's something some of them like learning, and I have a friend who uses it who did the translations for us."

Zuko idly traces one finger over the characters. If this age is the most important one for learning new scripts, no wonder his grasp on languages is so shit. Growing up in a home with anything bar Fire being off-limits didn't exactly make a conducive environment for picking up even the basics of any other tongue – leaving at thirteen had been a steep learning curve.

"At home we speak a combo of Common and Fire, generally. Although, uh, if you want different scripts–"

"If it's something you want her to learn to read, this is probably the best time to introduce it," Sokka points out and Zuko nods.

"It's another same language, different script thing. One of the archaic Fire scripts." Not exactly archaic. It had been his first language, and was still Uncle's usual writing style. But then, his family wasn't exactly normal. "We have some old books and things written in it, and my uncle uses it sometimes."

"Yeah, sure!" Sokka bounces back up onto his feet and goes to rummage through a drawer. "We don't use online translation for this stuff, it's pretty dodgy, but there's a list of all the words we label, and you can just...write down translations, I guess? Fill it out whenever you get the chance and we'll get it printed up."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's good." Another bit of paper folded and slid into his pocket. He'll probably have to get Uncle to help with that – he's put a lot of effort into avoiding the old imperial script and has probably forgotten half of it. Somewhere in his room are his mother's old play scrolls, though, and he wants Izumi to be able to read them when she's old enough.

"Okay," Sokka says, straightening up again and brushing off his jeans. "I think that's enough stalling for time."

"Stalling–?" Zuko stands and follows him to the door.

Izumi is kneeling next to a basket of dress-up clothes and talking animatedly to a boy who is staring, enraptured, as she holds up a mask and gestures wildly and then thrusts it into his hands and rummages for another.

"We like to give them a few minutes to settle in," Sokka says from just behind his shoulder, and Zuko just about manages to not jump out of his skin. "Or more to the point, a few minutes for you to see that they've settled. Kids are like platypus-bears, they can smell fear. They know if you're freaking out and then they start with the sympathy freak-out, you know?"

Zuko knows. The if you panic, so does she lesson had been a hard one to learn once Izumi had started toddling, and he thinks it'll only get worse if she ends up firebending.

"She does seem to be settling in," he murmurs, and glances across at Sokka. "So what should I–"

"Whatever you think would be best for Izumi. Probably don't just walk out, but don't make a big deal out of it. I'll give you a full rundown of how the day went this afternoon, yeah?"

Zuko takes a deep breath. "Yeah. I– Yeah. That's great. Thanks."

The kids stare as he heads past them, but at least here it's 50:50 on whether it's his scar or just the fact that he's an adult they don't know.

"Hi, papa," Izumi says distractedly as he crouches down next to her, digging through the box again, and Zuko lightly touches her arm and waits for her to glance up.

"I've got to go back to work now, Izumi," he says, trying to sound as casual as he can, watching for any widening of her eyes or wobble of her lip. "I'll come and pick you up at the end of the day. You're going to be good for everyone, right?"

"Mhm," Izumi says, nodding obediently, then brightens and holds up the mask in her lap. "Look, papa, I’m gonna be the Dragon Emperor!"

For a moment, Zuko expects her to thrust a Dark Water Spirit mask in his direction – he always ends up taking that role when he plays with her, just like he always had with Azula as a kid – but thankfully there isn’t one in sight. He’s not sure he could have torn himself away if she had.

"Have fun, ‘zumi." Zuko allows himself one last kiss dropped onto the top of her head. "You can tell me all about it when I pick you up later, fireflake."

He pauses on his way out the door to glance back at Izumi, brow furrowed in concentration and tongue sticking out the side of her mouth as she picks at the knots on the ties of the mask. Sokka, kneeling at a table with a couple of other kids and with his hands already covered in paint, flashes him a reassuring smile, and it's easier than Zuko would have expected to force one in response.

It's a brisk ten minute walk to the shop this morning, although he knows it'll take more than twice as long with a four-year-old in tow, and it's not until after he's already slipped behind the counter and is tying on his apron that he realises how damn quiet it is. Izumi isn't an incredibly loud kid – she never has been – but at this time in the morning the shop is eerily silent without her quiet chatter as she monologues to Druk about her drawings.

Song emerges from the back a moment later, tray of sponge cakes balanced precariously on one arm as she sets a drink down in front of Zuko. "Already miss that kid," she says wistfully, and Zuko rolls his eyes.

"Can you not? I'm thinking about it enough as it is."

"Drink your matcha," Song tells him. "She'll be fine."

"I know that," Zuko snaps, then softens at her raised eyebrow. "Sorry. But. I know she'll be fine. It's me I'm panicking about."

"If you revert back to angsty teenage Zuko the moment your daughter is out of your sight, I'm throwing cake at your head," Song warns, and gets a damp cleaning cloth thrown at her face for good measure.

Being a grown adult with a kid doesn't mean he has to act like one.

If Zuko thought the morning rush would take his mind off thinking about Izumi, he was wrong. The rush means the morning regulars, all of the commuters and students, and even the ones that he doesn't think he's ever seen interacting with Izumi, are all coming up to the counter with an apologetic smile and a I hope the little girl is okay–

"I didn't think people would worry about her," he complains in a brief moment of quiet, under the cover of the clatter of plates. "Should I have said something before today? Did I need to warn people that my kid was starting nursery?"

"I mean, looking at this lot? Yeah, probably. She's practically furniture here."

"Don't call my daughter furniture," Zuko says absently, and plasters a customer service smile back onto his face as he turns around to the next woman in the queue. Still, even if the flood of questions makes it impossible to ignore Izumi's absence, it at least makes him more casual about acknowledging it. He can't throw dishcloths at them all.

The morning rush has been over for long enough that Zuko has had chance to replenish the disposable cups, set the dishwasher going for the cups and plates, start wiping down tables– He tries not to think about this being the time that Izumi normally gets up from her corner to follow him around and tell him all about what she drew that morning. She's fine. He's fine.

The bell over the door rings as Jin gets in, later than usual, dumping her rucksack behind the counter before rummaging for her timesheet to sign in. She can bitch about her Monday morning 9am lectures all she likes, but at least they get her out of serving the hordes of sleep-deprived commuters and grumpy students. In the end she waits for Zuko to head back behind the counter before pulling a stack of papers out of her bag with a flourish.

"Ta-da!"

Zuko gives her a flat stare. "Is this why you were late?"

"I wasn't late, I don't even have a regular start time, and Uncle's gonna be pissed if he thinks you're trying to enforce one instead of letting me work the hours that fit around my schedule and are mentally healthy–"

Zuko pulls the papers out of her hand.

PSA

THE TEASHOP BABY HAS STARTED SCHOOL

NO SHE ISN'T ILL

NO SHE HASN'T LEFT

SHE'LL BE BACK AT THE WEEKEND

TELL HER PAPA YOU MISS HER, HE DEFINITELY HASN'T HEARD IT A HUNDRED TIMES YET

"The teashop baby? Really?"

"Well, I wasn't going to use her name or a photo, was I?"

Oh, yeah, photos. Zuko knew he had been forgetting something.

"I did it as a favour!" Jin hollers after him as he heads through to the kitchen – his phone is in his back pocket, obviously, but he tries to avoid having it out when he's front of house.

"How did you even know to do it?" he calls back, running down the list of people who will need copies of cute Izumi school photos and hitting send on all of them at once.

Song glances up from where she's piping cream into the buns that have been cooling all morning. "I asked if she could use some of her university print credits to make a flyer or something, just to stop everyone asking. I could see it was grating on you. Didn't think you'd be able to handle a lunch and afternoon rush like that."

"I would say thank you," Zuko notes. "But that would mean acknowledging that you were texting during a morning rush, which I'm sure you'd never do, because you're a responsible employee who wouldn't leave her supervisor in the lurch. Right?"

Song, as mature and responsible as ever, sticks her tongue out at him as Jin snorts.

He's pretty sure that Song is constantly texting her, honestly, with the number of times they seem to have a new in-joke between them each time an overlapping shift rolls around – not to mention how Jin has blatantly admitted to texting during her lectures – but so long as it never happens in front of customers and doesn't get in the way of her doing her work, he'll let it slide.

There's also the fact that last time he told Jin to put her phone away during a rush, during a day that happened to not give them overlapping shifts, Song had apparently moped for the entirety of the afternoon and had very much taken it out on Zuko the following day when she was working, so. Small sacrifices.

"How many of your print credits did you even spend on–" Zuko flips through the pages. "–on literally dozens of these?"

"Not as many as she did when her ex-girlfriend asked her to print her entire thesis," Song says, and grins at Jin's groan and the mumbled And it all had to be in colour because of those damn graphs–

"And you had to use your credits because she'd wasted hers on printing out full-colour photos instead of buying posters–"

Jin drops her forehead down against Song's shoulder with a dramatic sigh. "Don't remind me."

Zuko very carefully doesn't notice the way Song flushes pink at that, her hand hovering at the small of Jin's back and not quite making contact. He knows from experience that there's absolutely no use in bringing it up.

Brief gratitude at the sound of the bell is almost immediately dispelled by Jin bouncing past him to reach the counter first, dropping her pile of flyers next to the stack of loyalty cards.

"Hi!" she chirps, customer service smile firmly in place. "Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon, how can I help you today?"

"Uh–" The guy glances from Jin's blindingly fake smile to the pile of paper in front of her to finally shoot a slightly questioning look at Zuko, and he resists the urge to facepalm. It's going to be a long day.

---

Zuko manages to get a lunch break after the midday rush has finished, and automatically claims his favourite corner table before realising that he doesn't need the extra space or easy access to the box of children's books near the window. This is going to take some getting used to.

Mai's response to the messages is an apathetic Someone managed to get a good photo of you?, but he's perfectly capable of reading between the lines after so long of knowing her, and it's more than made up for with Ty Lee's scattershot texts of how big Izumi is getting, and how long it's been since they visited, and does she remember them, and is she old enough to start any sort of gymnastics, and is Zuko free to vid-chat this weekend–

"So," Jin says, sliding into the chair opposite, and Zuko glances up.

"So? Shouldn't you be working?"

"The place is dead. I'll get back to it once someone walks in." She sits forward, elbows on the table. "So."

Zuko doesn't stick his tongue out at her, because he's a grown man and also her boss, but it's a close thing. "What's this interrogation about?"

"See anyone you liked?"

"Really? That's what you're going to quiz me about?"

Jin shrugs, unrepentant. "Look, I said I hoped you found a cute guy now that Izumi is out and about in the world, and I meant it. So, any handsome single dads catch your eye?"

"I didn't have time to talk to any other parents anyway," Zuko says with a shrug, turning back to his phone, and Jin's hand darts out and flips it face-down.

"That wasn't a no," she says gleefully.

Zuko takes a moment to stare past her shoulder at the door in the vain hope that someone might walk in and save him, but apparently all his luck today is going towards Izumi's schooling. "The guy who offered to take mine and Izumi's photo this morning was cute," he allows at last, and ignores Jin's smirk. "But he's also very much off-limits, so. Someone nice to talk to and nice to look at, and that's the best you're getting for me."

Jin sighs. "Worth a try," she says wistfully. "Why's he off-limits?"

"He's staff."

They both work customer-facing jobs. They both know how this goes. Zuko's fairly sure the only thing that could possibly stop Jin from suggesting he flirt with any guy she deems worthy is the realisation that someone is working and therefore contractually obligated to be nice.

"Oh, come on. What is it with you and the unavailable ones, Zuko, I swear–"

He shrugs lopsidedly. "They're emotionally safe?"

She flicks the paper wrapper from his straw at him. "Still, I'm glad you've got some eye-candy to be getting on with. And nice, too. Maybe being forced to speak to this one means that at some point you'll finally be able to go from gazing longingly from a distance to actually approaching someone."

"Maybe me having a nice unavailable crush to enjoy means that you'll stop bothering me about dating every available guy in a twenty-mile radius," Zuko grumbles, then glares at the way she brightens.

"Oh, I didn't say anything about a crush. That one was all on you, buddy."

Zuko crinkles up the straw wrapper into a ball and flicks it back at her. "I spoke to the guy for half an hour. It's not a crush, I'm just saying that at some point it might be. And that if it is, I'm going to be even less receptive to your stupid blind date ploys than usual."

Jin makes a face at him. "Look, all I want is for you to find someone nice. It's all well and good having a crush on someone, but it's not exactly much compared to actually dating."

"Oh, yes, that's very true. You have a lot of experience with knowing how a crush feels versus dating someone?"

Jin flushes crimson and glares at him before whipping her head around to stare at the counter and the doors to the kitchen. On the edge of hearing, muffled by the whir of the fans set up to cool down the pastries she's just taken out of the oven, Song is humming along to the radio.

"Shut up," Jin hisses, and Zuko smiles contentedly, flipping his phone back over and smiling when he sees Uncle has replied.

"No idea what you're talking about," he says blandly, and Jin's quiet fuming gets him through most of the rest of his lunch break.

He's just about to head back to the counter when Jin straightens up from wiping down a table and catches his arm. "Look, Zuko– I know we joke about this sh– this stuff– Wait, the kid's not here, can I swear? Whatever. I know we joke. And I know that you want to focus on Izumi, and that's, like, super understandable. But I really don't think she's going to want you to throw away the whole of your twenties and thirties doing nothing but caring for her."

Zuko tugs his arm away, trying not to be too harsh. "Thanks for the thought, Jin, but I really don't have time to be thinking about dating."

"Once she's in school full-time–"

"Once she is, I'm going to be taking classes. The university already knows that my schedule will have to be around Izumi's school hours and my shifts for work – I'm not going to be gallivanting off with a pretty boy during the afternoons or anything."

"You know we'd watch her in the evenings, right? Or Uncle would?"

"Thanks, Jin, but–" But I'm not just going to bring someone into Izumi's life on a whim. But I'm not going to leave her with other people to go off on stupid selfish errands. But it's not the same. "–but it's not going to work."

He slips away from her hand with an apologetic smile, going back to the counter and back to his shift and back to watching the clock and counting down the hours.

Chapter Text

Hot parents, Sokka has learnt during his first couple of years at this job, are an occupational hazard when you're young, painfully single, and in any sort of teaching role.

There's been the flirty single parents that he's had to carefully fend off. There's been the flirty not-single parents that he's had to fend off with increased determination, because whether the spouse knows or not, the optics for him and his job would be even worse. There's been plenty of parents that have been nice to look at when they come to collect their kids, or who distract him a bit when he's trying to have meetings.

Literally none of them could have prepared him for how damn pretty this guy would be when he turned around and flashed a little smile up at Sokka, or how radiant he had been haloed by the sun, all laughing eyes and lopsided dimples as he kissed his daughter–

He had seen a portrait of Agni, once, or at least a representation of the spirit in human form, in an exhibition that Aang and Katara had dragged him to when they were in town. The artist had layered gold leaf across the wood and insisted on the room being lit by candles rather than electric light, and Sokka is very far from being a spiritual guy but sometimes he thinks he almost gets it.

Sokka tries very hard not to fall fast, these days. He's learnt his lesson. But people sometimes make it damn hard for him.

And he has a job to do, so he does it, and he's not even the slightest bit gleeful at the realisation that there's no partner – no partner significant enough to put on the paperwork, his brain helpfully reminds him, which is not the same as no partner at all – and he carries on a perfectly respectable conversation and gets through all of the paperwork without stumbling too many times or rambling off onto pointless tangents for too long.

He can do his job in the presence of pretty people, no problem. Tui and La, he works with Yue, who despite being his ex is still objectively one of the prettiest humans he's ever seen. It's been good practice.

There's been an almost indiscernible tension in Zuko's frame the whole time, in the tapping of his fingertips and the set of his shoulders, and it's almost magical how it seems to melt away as he crouches to talk to his daughter, to look at the mask she excitedly holds up, to kiss her on the head–

Spirits, he has a job to do.

He's helping Hidemi fingerpaint – there's definitely an attempt at characters there, he notes, and bumps him up his mental list of kids that he needs to sit down with and test properly – when movement catches his eye. Zuko, hovering in the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder. The smile comes almost without thinking as Zuko meets his eyes, and he takes a split second to relish in the tiny flash of dimples before he ducks his head and leaves, the door clicking closed behind him as the automatic lock triggers.

Okay. Now he can do his job.

For someone who needs a million lists just to remember to pay his bills, it's always kind of surprising to Sokka how easily he can keep track of the kids, but he's had a lot of practice by now. If he can't think on his feet when it comes to which tiny human needs what, he's not going to do great at this.

Spirits, it seems like some of his kids have grown up leaps and bounds over summer, and he can definitely tell which ones have graduated to dressing themselves rather than having clothes picked out. It is summer, Akane, are the three layers of tops and cardigans really necessary– Okay, yes, apparently they are. Right. Good to know. It's not worth arguing. Still, it seems like the rhinestone bedazzlement has been enough to catch Izumi's attention, now that Yisu has tired of playing dress-up, because she's cornering the other girl and thrusting a headdress at her and talking very seriously about something-or-other, and Sokka files away another little data point to bring up with Zuko this afternoon and goes to break up a spat at the water trough.

They're lucky as fuck not to have any waterbenders right now – a single time of seeing one of his kids' hands accidentally frozen in a block of ice is one time too many, despite knowing that Katara did the same thing to him dozens of times and he came away fine – and he's planning to have water-based toys on the menu every single day until their next waterbender presents themselves.

A familiar tune flicks on, On Ji turning up the volume on the speaker, and the kiddos that recognise it rush to grab the little carpet squares.

"Walking, please," Sokka calls, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the music. "Indoor feet, Yisu. We walk when we're inside." He and Yue circulate through the room, rounding up stragglers, both the new kids and the ones who know what they should be doing but would rather keep playing, and he ends up being the first one to reach the table where Izumi is sat drawing, apparently uncaring that Akane has gone to sit down in the centre of the room.

"Hi, Izumi," he says, crouching down and waiting for her attention to flick to him. "Can you hear the music? When we play this song, it means it's time for circle time. By the time it finishes playing, we need to finish what we're doing and go sit down over there, with everyone else." The little crease between Izumi's brows as she looks from her colouring pencils to the waiting circle is startlingly similar to how Zuko's had been when he was thinking. "Do you want to choose your own carpet to sit on, or do you want me to pick one?"

You have two choices, kiddo, and staying here isn't one of them.

The realisation that the carpet squares come in different colours is apparently the deciding factor. "I want to pick one," she declares, standing up, then stares down at her drawing.

"Put the crayons back in the box," Sokka tells her. "Then go put your picture in your cubby, with your lunch, and then we can go get a carpet."

Only child, the paperwork had told him. Spends almost all her time around adults. Doesn't have much experience with long-term relationships with other children, beyond a single play session. She seems to be settling in well enough, though – independent play without pushing other children away, decisive in what she wants without being a bully. That's good. It always sucks, having to tell a parent that despite their best intentions, they're raising their kids with debatable values.

Izumi picks a blue carpet square and an empty spot next to Akane, and since On Ji is the supervisor today, reading the story and leading the kids in a raucous song, Sokka finds himself next to Yue as they tidy some of the more chaotic aftermath of the water fight.

"You've got three new kids, right?"

"Yeah." Yue sighs wistfully. "Not that any of them could possibly compare to my precious little Amlliq, but–"

"Your precious little Amlliq froze Enji to a wall, Yue."

She'd been a cute kid, though. Utterly fixated on Yue and no-one else, so it had been lucky that she'd been assigned to be one of Yue's kids to begin with, and had spent her entire two years here running around after her and excitedly shouting various attempts at Yue's name. There's always a smaller batch in the first few weeks after summer, with people taking advantage of cheap holiday prices, but even without that it's startlingly quiet without a little voice shouting Yu! Yu! at all hours of the day.

Hardly any of Sokka's had left last year, so he's only been assigned one new kid in Izumi, and Yue fills him in on how her first half hour had gone while he'd been busy with paperwork. "Making a beeline for anything colourful or sparkly," Yue notes. "Although it might just be because things are new or interesting. She seems to have been pretty good in terms of sharing, too, so far. And no tears."

"No tears," Sokka agrees, relieved. That's not to say she won't start with them later, but no crying on the morning of day one is a solid start.

In the end, there's no crying at all on day one. Izumi seems to be a quiet kid but not an especially shy one. As the day goes on, she's willing enough to share toys or play equipment with the others, but it does seem to be more along the lines of deciding that another child is going to play with something and summarily presenting them with it. It's about as smooth a first day as a guy could ask for, honestly.

When the end of the day rolls around, Sokka glances out the window, and– He's not cliche enough to say that his eyes find Zuko immediately, but it isn't far off, and Zuko is already watching the windows. Sokka flashes him the most reassuring grin he can when he's rushing a gaggle of kids to the bathrooms to wash the paint off their hands, and manages to keep his eyes on the window for long enough to see the little smile in return.

Yue is the one to read one last story with the kids, all of them gathered back in the circle, so Sokka has a chance to slip out of the door and find Zuko. He wouldn't bother, normally, but he only has one new kid so it's worth the hassle. Zuko wears the subtle weariness of a long day at work plastered across his face, in the slump of his shoulders as he shoves his hands into his pockets and in the flyaway strands of hair that have slipped free from his neat topknot, but his smile as he spots Sokka is warm.

"How is she?"

"She did really well," Sokka tells him, trying not to grin at the way his whole frame visibly relaxes. "No tears all day, not even once, so she's already ahead of a lot of others her age." She hadn't kicked off when another newbie had been clinging to On Ji's leg and wailing at lunchtime, either, which is good. Some energies were contagious, and one child crying often kicked off a wave of others, but Izumi had just stared at him in mild bafflement then edged around him until she could reach her lunchbox.

"So she was okay?" Zuko rocks up onto his toes for a moment, glancing in through the window again.

"She really was, especially for someone who hasn't spent a lot of time around other kids for long stretches. She's been adjusting really well." Sokka follows his gaze to where Izumi is sat in the circle with her back to the window, topknot tragically askew by this point in the afternoon, watching Yue read. "I'll let her tell you how her day went, because that's something you should hear from her."

"That makes sense." Zuko brushes a strand of hair back out of his eyes distractedly, looking so much like Izumi for a moment that Sokka almost has to do a double-take. "Should I, I don't know, be doing anything special with her, for her first day? Or just treat it casually?"

"What were you planning?"

"I've still got to head back to work after this," he says with a tired smile, and Sokka makes a little noise of sympathy. "We close shop at six, although I usually leave that up to my coworkers so I can spend a bit more time with Izumi, since the shop is quiet. But I still have to be front-of-house until closing, and then I can head upstairs, get her fed, start getting her ready for bed." Thankfully Sokka doesn't have to be nosy and pry at the mention of upstairs?, because Zuko quickly adds, "My uncle owns the building, since it's his shop. It was pretty useful when she was younger, and I could have a monitor to listen to her upstairs napping while I was still working."

"Must've been weird," Sokka notes. "Not having her there when you were working if that's what you're used to." Explains why she's been reasonably independent today, though, if she's used to entertaining herself.

Zuko's smile is a little wan, taut around the edges. "Yeah. It's been pretty strange today. Quiet."

Sokka very carefully doesn't follow that up with his automatic next thought, which is along the lines of spirits, that sounds exhausting, because as much as Katara might disagree, he does have some tact.

"Looks like Yue is just wrapping up," he says instead. "I'll have to head back inside in a moment – but I wouldn't suggest taking her for ice-cream or anything. At this point she'll still be adjusting to the idea that this is going to be an everyday thing, and you don't want her to start thinking that a day at preschool means ice-cream after, or whatever."

Zuko hums, amused. "I won't let on that the mochi waiting at home are only there because it's today, then."

Sokka snorts at that. "Yeah, feel free to treat her if you want to – just don't say it's because she went to preschool today. I'll have a more detailed report by the end of the week, yeah? Give her time to settle in, then we can talk about it properly."

"Sounds good," and there are those damn dimples again, and Sokka flashes a broad smile that he hopes hides any stupid infatuation – damn all hot parents to the spirit world and back again – and ducks back inside, kicking off his outdoor shoes just in time to start helping kids into coats.

Yue's raised brow says that he's going to be getting an interrogation once everyone else is out of earshot, but he ignores her. Izumi is his only new kid, he can get away with it. Not that he's getting away with anything. He's just doing his job. He'd go talk to any parent on day one. The fact that doing his job today just happens to feel like he's getting away with something? It's just a coincidence.

The parents flood the room, and Sokka picks out his handful to offer quick reassurances on how their kids did on their first day back. He's lingering near Hidemi's aunt, waiting for her to finish making smalltalk so he can give her a message to pass onto his parents, and catches just a moment of Izumi rattling on about her drawings as they pass him, almost drowning out Zuko's indulgent little hums of acknowledgement. Sokka almost considers trying to catch his eye, but his whole focus is on his daughter's chatter, eyes warm and face soft, and Sokka just smiles to himself and refocuses on his damn job.

He's supervising tomorrow, so he settles for bribing Yue to help clean up and prep with the promise of playlist control. It inevitably ends up with them dancing around the room to the Water Tribe creole pop that has been Yue's genre of choice since she made it out of the North, but they do eventually get sorted. Mostly.

---

Suki must only just have got home from work, because when Sokka barges the door open with his shoulder and dumps his bags, she's wandering around the kitchen in a towel, hair dripping all over the tile.

"You'd better clean that up," he grumbles, making a beeline for the sofa and flopping down face-first. Gross. There's definitely some crumbs stuck to his cheek now.

"Hi, Suki, how was work?" she sings back. "Hope you had a good day, thank you for cooking!"

"Hi, Suki, how was work, you'd better mop up your hair-water soon because my workday has been spent clearing up after toddlers whose idea of fun is pouring cups of water all over the floor."

"Could just get a waterbender on staff," Suki points out, not for the first time, and Sokka sticks a middle finger up in her general direction. She knows full well that no adequate bender would consider working in any field as tragically underpaid as childcare– Well. They have Haru. But there's only one of him, and while having an earthbender does make it easier to deal with baby bending emergencies – they've only needed him to create a firebreak once, thankfully – it's nothing like the schools or expensive private nurseries with full staffs of benders trained to manage kids.

"What are you cooking, anyway?" he asks instead of complaining about it, because Suki's heard it all before, and peels his face off the couch enough to see her.

"Picked up some cheap pig-chicken on the way home, we've got enough leftover vegetables and shit for donburi." Suki waves a threatening wooden spoon at him. "There's gonna be enough for me to have for lunch tomorrow, so you'd better not eat it all."

Sokka rolls over, propping his head up on the arm of the couch. "You heading out tonight, huh?"

"Not like that. But I'm eating out."

Because Sokka is still, at heart, a thirteen-year-old boy, he cracks up laughing and the wooden spoon to the back of the skull isn't quite enough to dissuade him.

Suki is going out to a restaurant or maybe a food stand, she establishes, and then she is coming home and she expects Sokka to have eaten and actually planned what he's cooking when it's his turn next week.

"And call your sister or something," she adds, voice muffled for a second as she presumably pulls a shirt on, then clearer as she sticks her head back through the doorway to fix him with a glare. "Don't just dump all your papers out onto the floor then spend the entire night working."

"You're not my boss," Sokka grumbles, and Suki rolls her eyes, the effect slightly lessened by how she's hopping around on one foot while she ties the laces of her boots.

"Sure, whatever, but I'm the one who sees how fixated you get once you start working, and I'm the one that has to deal with how hangry you get once you realise it's been ten hours and you've forgotten to have anything besides coffee." She shoves a hat on over her wet hair and Sokka bites back the instinctive cringe – this is a mild city autumn, not the South Pole – and leaves him with one final instruction to leave enough food for lunches tomorrow.

Sokka pays attention to said instructions for exactly as long as it takes him to dish out a bowl and put the rest in the fridge, then spreads his paperwork out on the floor and settles down cross-legged, back against the couch.

He's glad that Suki has found someone, he really is. And he's glad that Yue has found someone. And he really is happy for them both, that an introduction between my ex-girlfriend aka my housemate and my ex-girlfriend aka my coworker had sparked something, even if that something was still mostly nebulous and casual and not a serious relationship.

He doesn't want to date Suki anymore, or Yue. They've all grown out of one another. It's a relic of another time, when they were all different people. Still, he can't say that it doesn't rankle at least a little, seeing them be so easy around one another.

Suki gets home earlier than he'd been expecting, while he's still sprawled out on the floor cutting shapes out of cardstock – the first term means it's time to trick some small children into educational content while they still just think they're playing, and he's decided to go with shape and colour-matching for now – and stands over him to glare, cheeks flushed red from the chill breeze.

"I ate," Sokka says without looking up. "You've got fridge leftovers."

"And yet you're still on the floor working."

"Yeah, that's sort of what I need to do when I have a job." A particularly aggressive snip of the scissors almost cuts a set of a dozen triangles in two, and Sokka very carefully realigns the blades and tries again. "This needs doing for tomorrow."

At one point, Suki had brought up that Yue never seemed to do this much work every evening, and yes, true, but until he can find a way to actually plan this shit weeks in advance, that's not going to happen. It works for him well enough, doing it this way, and it's not like it's ruining his life or anything. What's he going to do with his evenings instead, hop on a quick flight over to Katara's for a family dinner with her and Aang?

But. Well. It's Suki's house too. And he does tend to commandeer the floor every time he needs to do paperwork or go through his files.

"I'm being a bit of a dick, aren't I?" he asks, not looking up from what he's doing.

Suki nudges him in the ribs with one sock-clad foot. "Yeah, a bit. But so am I. You can manage your own work, I shouldn't bug you about it."

The bit Sokka really hates to admit is that, well, Suki is probably right. Sure, his life would be easier if he didn't do ten times the work he really needed to do, with all the weekly notes and files he keeps – but it gives him something to focus on, and he likes knowing that his kids have got the best care he can give them. Even if it gets a little excessive on occasion.

Still, it does mean he gets to be quietly smug in the last couple of weeks of term when he's the only one not scrambling to test his kids against their targets and goals.

The TV flickers on in his periphery, and Suki's feet settle at the small of his back where he's sprawled out on the floor on his front, and Sokka grumbles under his breath and flicks scraps of paper at her until she threatens to break his spine with her heel. Their little spat is quietly forgiven.

"So," Sokka says, tucking the triangles away in his folder and starting on the circles – fuck, he hates cutting out circles. "How was your date? Did you end up eating out?" This time the side of Suki's foot catches him square in the back of the neck, and he absolutely deserved that, and he tries to tune out the background chaos of Suki slaying demons in favour of an enthusiastic debate over which noodle stand is indisputably the best in the city and why Yue and Suki are both wrong.

---

Izumi's first few days at preschool are...okay. Better than okay. She's doing well. There's still something coiled deep in Zuko's chest, like a spring waiting to snap, but with every morning that she skips inside without tears, and with every afternoon that she comes out brimming with stories… Well. He's beginning to relax. Just a little.

Uncle picking this week to leave the city is...not helping. Really not helping. Zuko's mostly taken over everything to do with the shop by now, so that's not too bad, but Uncle has always been such a huge help with Izumi during the day - and sure, she's at school most days now, but that doesn't mean Zuko isn't missing having him around. To be fair to him, it's not like he'd chosen to leave this week – there's only one person qualified to manage the shop back in Ba Sing Se, and Pao had just ended up needing emergency surgery at a horribly inconvenient time. Uncle calls after the first day to let him know that Pao probably won't be cleared to work again by his doctors until the solstice, which is… Spirits, it feels like ages away, but Zuko knows full well that the time will probably fly. Izumi seems to be taking her uncle's absence as part and parcel of the same changes that led to her going to school now, so there's not any meltdowns – small mercies. Zuko doesn't think he'd cope.

Well. Not any meltdowns until the first day of her second week.

He collars Sokka in the playground, keeping one eye on Izumi as she dashes off to where a game of chase has already begun. Sokka has been an absolute lifesaver, he really has, when he isn't giving Zuko miniature heart attacks every time he smiles at him or ducks out of class early to give him – and only him, Zuko can't help but notice – an afternoon Izumi update before hometime.

Zuko has a lid on this. Zuko is capable of being professional when he's talking to his daughter's teacher, get a fucking grip, Zuko.

"Can you keep an eye on her today?" he asks, and he tries not to sound too pleading, but the look on Sokka's face makes it clear he hasn't succeeded.

"Bit of a backslide today, huh?" Sokka sounds sympathetic. "It happens."

"I don't know what happened! She's been fine, and then today she was just...refusing to get up, to get dressed, to leave the house. She just didn't seem to–" He waves his hands vaguely, "–to get why I wanted her to do any of it."

Sokka hums, glancing through the tangle of legs and clearly trying to spot Izumi. "I don't want to sound like I'm criticising you or anything. Because I'm not. But, uh, did you actually tell her last week that this was going to be happening every week? Because I'm presuming you work over the weekends–"

"–and she went back to being in the teashop, like she used to," Zuko realises. "Shit. Wait, no, I mean–"

"Careful around little ears," Sokka warns with a laugh. "But yeah, that'll do it. That sort of thing specifically isn't an issue for most kids, since a lot of them will have a fairly defined weekday-weekend difference just from parents working, but if you don't take weekends off, well. She's going to have presumed that this was a nice holiday camp for a few days before going back to the status quo."

"Ugh," Zuko says, and Sokka cuts him off before he can even say anything.

"Not your fault! Kids' brains are weird, and they jump to conclusions that adults would literally never expect. I'll have a chat with her today, yeah?"

Zuko opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by a tiny body slamming into his leg at full four-year-old velocity. Izumi, clinging to him, her shoulders shaking–

"Papa!" she shrieks, grinning up at him, and the tension seeps out of his shoulders. Laughing, not crying. Thank fuck. He could not deal with that right now.

"You getting chased, fireflake?"

"Uh-huh!" She nods enthusiastically, topknot already askew, and Zuko sighs and kneels down to unfasten the ribbon and tie it into a low ponytail instead.

"Be careful when you're running, Izumi," he tells her, "You're allowed to run outside, but you need to look where you're going. You could have really hurt me if you knocked me over."

Sokka crouches next to him to pick up Izumi's bento and hand it back to her, and Zuko very carefully does not hear the tiny voice in the back of his brain that's chanting something about Sokka's thighs.

"You should listen to your papa, 'zumi," he says with a grin. "He's a clever man, he knows what he's talking about. Outside feet are fine, but we need open eyes, okay?"

"Okay," Izumi echoes, eyes wide and serious, then frowns up at Zuko and says, in a tone of absolute disbelief, "Are you clever?"

Zuko is saved from having to answer that one with a straight face by the doors opening and On Ji calling everyone in. Izumi takes pride in being a big girl and knowing what to do, so Zuko lets her go ahead and find her cubby on her own. She probably needs it, after the morning they've had.

"I tried to stand up for you," Sokka says, barely disguised mirth in his voice. "But it seems like it's from the mouths of babes and all that. The kid has spoken."

Zuko rolls his eyes. "Yeah, well. I have the misfortune to be surrounded by overachievers, and Izumi knows it. Takes a lot to impress her."

"I'll have to try harder, then." Sokka is just about to slip away, smile still on his lips, when Zuko reaches out and catches his arm.

"Actually, wait–" Sokka's skin is soft and warm and Zuko absolutely should not be touching it– He yanks his hand back to his side, sure that his face is burning, and refuses to look up to see if Sokka has noticed anything amiss. "Speaking of, uh. Overachievers. My uncle got around to giving me this sheet back, the one from the first day–"

He lets Sokka take it from him rather than pushing it into his hand or anything more...potential-contact-filled. It's not worth it.

"Awesome! Cool, that's great, I'll get that sorted over the next week or so – On Ji has printer access, so I'll hand it off to her to scan and print and everything. Izumi will only really be learning by sight right now rather than trying to drill anything into her, but just having them around in view will help with her beginning to recognise characters, y'know? So, uh, if you have the time and access to a printer, it might be worth doing the same thing for objects around the place for you, since it's something she won't be seeing around every day like the other scripts. If that makes sense? Um. Anyway. See you this afternoon, I'll keep an eye on her!"

Sokka disappears inside with the last few words, and Zuko sighs and stretches and tries to put any worries about how he might have fucked up – with Izumi, with her teachers, with anything – out of his mind. If there's one thing he can say for having Izumi out of the shop on weekdays, it's that it's much easier to turn off his dad-brain and get into work mode.

Chapter Text

"Someone's got it bad," Yue says, singsong, under the cover of chaos as kids scramble for their favourite activities as though they'll somehow disappear in the next handful of seconds.

"Shut up," Sokka grumbles, quietly enough that he's not going to get a small child telling him that he's using bad words.

"Haven't heard you rambling that much since you were trying to ask me to do an activity with you."

Trying being the operative word. Spirits, how on earth had he ever managed to convince both Yue and Suki that he was worth a chance?

"So I get flustered around cute people sometimes. Whatever. It doesn't matter anyway – he's a parent. All we were doing was talking about his kid. He doesn't need some idiot mooning over him when I should be, y'know, doing my job."

"At least you've admitted it now," Yue says cheerfully. "Progress compared to last week."

"I'm not– Ugh, whatever. Sometimes people are just cute, Yue. It doesn't need to be a big thing."

"Whatever you say," she says sweetly, and Sokka does not stick his tongue out at her because he is a grown adult at work.

Instead he swings by the office to drop the paperwork from Zuko into On Ji's folder, then goes to check on Izumi like he'd promised.

"Hey, Izumi," he says cheerfully, folding himself to the floor next to her. "What are you making?"

She holds up the cord, already strung with chunky beads. "For Auntie Mai and Auntie Ty, 'cos Papa says he's sending things."

Sokka pulls the tray towards himself, picking up a length of pre-knotted cord and making a mental note to ask Haru to make some more of the earthbent clay beads sometime soon. He likes letting the kids take home the bracelets and necklaces they make, but it does mean they're constantly running low.

"Who is that one for? I'm going to make one for my sister, I think." He sorts through the beads to pick up a handful of blue ones, big enough for clumsy child hands to manipulate, and begins threading them onto the cord.

"Pink is for Auntie Ty," Izumi says decisively, picking up another bead and frowning down at it as she tries to thread the cord through the hole. "She really really likes pink."

Aha, colour recognition time. He's still getting a handle on where Izumi lines up compared to the normal milestones for her age, so he's not going to complain about a chance to sneakily test her. "If I hold your necklace so all the beads don't fall off, do you want to find the pink ones in the tray and put them in this box?"

As she does, Sokka figures it's probably time to raise the question Zuko had been fretting about that morning.

"Did your papa tell your aunties that you were going to send something you made at school?"

"Mhm," she says distractedly, squinting at a bead with clay that's a light enough red to pass for pink in the right light.

"Was there a bit of confusion this morning about coming to school?"

Izumi clearly decides that the bead in question is too red for her auntie's tastes and drops it back into the tray. "Uh-huh. I want Auntie Song to make breakfast because she does it best but Papa said no."

Song? Probably one of Zuko's coworkers. "I think there was a bit of a mix-up. Your papa says he thinks he didn't explain it very well." Sokka keeps her string of beads secured in one hand, then lays out the string of five blue beads that he'd started threading for Katara. "Can you look at what I'm doing, please? Thank you, 'zumi. See, these beads – one, two, three, four, five – that's five days of school. And then after five days–" He threads two yellow beads on one-handed. "–you spend two days with your papa. And then we do it all over again. Can you find me five blue beads?" He waits for her to carefully count them out, then threads them onto the string. "Like this. Another five days of school."

Izumi runs her finger along the string of beads, pausing at the weekend. "Papa didn't say that."

Sokka suppresses a smile. "He says he thinks he explained it badly and you didn't understand, but that's okay. You understand now, right? We're here–" He taps the first blue bead of the second 'week'. "–so you've just had your two days with your papa, and now we've got five days of school, and you can make all sorts of nice things for your aunties." He takes the two yellow beads she hands him with a smile and a thank you. "And then you have two days with your papa again. Is that when your auntie makes you breakfast?"

"Yeah! Auntie Jin says I choose the music, and Auntie Song gives me the very first dumpling, and Papa makes tea. But if Uncle visits, he makes tea." She leans conspiratorially close. "Uncle says Papa makes bad tea, but we're not 'sposed to tell him."

Ah, the mysterious uncle. Sokka adds tea? to the mental list of things he knows about him, alongside next of kin, evidently important to the family and knows rare languages.

"You sound like a lucky kid, all these aunties and uncles giving you nice breakfasts. I get why you wanted to have that this morning as well. But school is fun too, right?"

"School is okay," Izumi pronounces at last after a long pause. A glowing recommendation; he'll have to put it on all the posters. "But no dumplings."

"No, there's not any dumplings," Sokka agrees, handing her the pink necklace back and adding more blue beads to his own. Blue and yellow, water and air – maybe he will give it to Katara next time he sees her. "But maybe we can all learn how to make dumplings one day, and then we can eat them at lunch. Does that sound more fun?"

He'll have to ask Zuko if his coworker would be happy coming in to give a tutorial before he suggests that Izumi go and ask her, but it would be fun. Hands-on crafts like that are messy and chaotic but ultimately enjoyable, and the kids tend to respond well to instruction coming from someone like Izumi's Auntie Song.

Another kid has materialised at the beading table, one of Haru's newbies, who sidles up to Izumi and stares down at the necklace she's making before starting to poke through the tray of beads.

"Found pink ones, Zu!" she says happily, depositing a small handful into Izumi's box of collected beads – Sokka smiles a little at how Izumi's name seems to have dropped yet another syllable, but he glances up from stringing another yellow one to see Izumi scowling.

"Not square beads," she snaps, pudgy child fingers yanking the box away. "It's circle beads."

It's a tone of voice that says that if she knew any curses, they'd have been thrown in there liberally. It's a tone of voice that spells trouble.

"Izumi," Sokka says firmly, voice low and quiet, and she jolts and spins to face him. "Izumi, we don't shout at people, and we don't use a mean voice. Khiem didn't know that you were only collecting the circle beads, and she was trying to help. I know it's annoying to have the wrong beads in the box, but how would you say that nicely?"

Izumi stares down at her string of beads, suddenly subdued. Sokka hasn't had to correct her since she's started, not significantly, and he wonders if it's the first time she's been scolded by anyone besides her immediate family and numerous aunties.

"Sorry, Khiem," she mumbles. "Um. I want circle pink beads. Not square ones."

Khiem has been watching, dark hazel eyes wide, but she brightens up at Izumi's quiet apology. "Okay, 'zumi! I'll move them. Can I hug you?"

Izumi blinks, seemingly startled, then nods minutely and holds her arms out. Khiem practically bounces out of her seat to hug her, giggling as Izumi flounders for what to do with her half-finished necklace. Sokka's cord is just about long enough to be a bracelet or anklet for Katara if he gives it to her, so he ties off the end and slips it into his pocket.

"When you've finished with the beads," he says. "Come find a grown-up who can knot the end and stop everything falling off the string, yeah?"

He coaxes Hidemi back to the drawing table with the promise of fingerpainting – he's so close to being able to say that the kid is well ahead of schedule on writing, he just needs to make sure he actually understands what he's doing – but is close enough to see when Yisu joins the two girls at the beading table.

"What are you making?" he asks, leaning over, and they say "Necklace" almost in unison.

"Cool!" Yisu says enthusiastically. "I wanna make a necklace."

Izumi takes charge like she always seems to do, giving him a knotted cord and pushing the tray of beads closer and chattering on about and Sokka says you have to ask a grown-up when you're finished– "It's for Auntie Ty!" she says, holding up the almost-finished necklace.

Yisu grabs a handful of beads. "It's for my mama. We should all do a necklace for our mama!"

Khiem looks up from where she's stringing beads seemingly at random, no apparent pattern in the chaos of shapes and colours. "It's for me," she says, pouting, then adds almost immediately, "But I can make a necklace for my mama after." A people-pleaser, huh? "Are you gonna make a necklace for your mama, 'zumi?"

Izumi shrugs, not looking up from where she's still stringing beads. "Don't have a mama. But I wanna make one for my papa."

Oh. Oh no. Here goes. Yisu looks like someone has just shaken the very foundations of his existence.

"You don't have a mama?"

"Nuh-uh." Izumi shakes her head. "But I got a papa. And I got Uncle."

"Everyone's got a mama, Zu!" Khiem protests, loud enough to catch even Hidemi's attention when he's focusing on drawing painstaking lines with one finger.

Sokka hastily starts on the praise – Hidemi is a sensitive kid, he can't just drop him and run after he's asked him to demonstrate something unless someone is bleeding – and keeps half an ear on the beading situation in case of escalation.

"Why do I need a mama?" Izumi sounds genuinely confused. "I got Papa, and Uncle, and Auntie Song and Auntie Jin and Auntie 'zula and Auntie–" Spirits, that kid has a lot of aunties.

"But you have a papa and a mama and a baby–"

"I don't!"

Yisu sounds halfway to being distraught, Izumi looks like she's confused enough that it's gone straight through to the other side of anger, and Khiem is staring between the two of them on the verge of tears. Escalation has happened.

Sokka escapes the painting table before any beads go flying and slots himself into the middle of the conversation. On Ji had been on her way over, and he flashes her a thumbs-up behind his back and gestures at Hidemi's table for her to go handle that instead.

"Alright, what's going on here? Who said what?" He knows, but it's good to give them a chance to explain.

"Izumi is telling fibs!" Yisu protests, in a tone that brooks no disagreement, and Izumi jabs a finger in his direction.

"Am not!"

It takes a bit more back-and-forth before he actually gets a straight answer out of them, and Sokka takes a moment to think of how to word this.

"Izumi is telling the truth– No, Yisu, don't interrupt me when I'm talking, please. Izumi is not telling fibs. Not everybody has a papa and a mama – not everybody has two parents. Yisu, you have a big sister, don't you?" He nods. "But Khiem and Izumi don't have big sisters. I've got a little sister, and none of you have little sisters. You both have a mama, and Izumi doesn't."

"My cousin Chu has two mamas and two papas," Khiem volunteers, and Yisu stares wide-eyed at the concept of four parents. Sokka is at least sixty percent sure that the kid is going to go home and demand an increase in household adults.

"That's right, Khiem, sometimes people have more than two parents! I have a mama, and I've got two papas as well. My friend grew up in the Air Temples and he doesn't have any parents – lots of Air Nomad babies grow up in big groups, with lots of monks as the grown-ups looking after them. Families come in lots of different shapes and sizes."

It takes a while, but Sokka finally manages to disentangle himself from the conversation and goes to hide in a hidden corner of the playground under the pretence of setting out activities for when the kids head outside after lunch, doing his best to hit his forehead against the wall as quietly as possible. Yue finds him after barely a minute, mostly to laugh at him.

"What was that chaos about?"

"The inability of small children to understand the concept of a single dad, mostly. They weren't picking on her, but Yisu did jump straight to calling her a liar. Maybe get Haru on that tomorrow when he's in, make sure it's not turning into a habit."

In the end, Sokka spends most of the afternoon fretting over what he's going to tell Zuko. He has to tell him, obviously – not least because Izumi is likely to go home and talk about it – but how is he supposed to bring that up when he knows that Zuko is going to freak out about it? He's been trying not to think about it, but sometimes he catches himself remembering the way Zuko had looked at him when he hadn't immediately presumed that there was a spouse or partner involved, all wide eyes and lips slightly parted on the beginnings of a smile and nope nope absolutely not, he's not going there. But. It was clearly an existing concern. That's his point here.

On Ji collars him just as the first couple of parents are starting to arrive outside, catching him near the window where he's watching for Zuko. "That paperwork you dropped off for me to print. Is that for Izumi's family?"

"Yup. Why?" For a second he thinks he sees the back of Zuko's head, but no. The topknot is far too neat for the end of the day. He's pretty sure that neither father nor daughter are capable of keeping their hair neat and smoothed down for more than a couple of hours.

"Sokka, do you know what's on this sheet?" She waves it at him. "Seriously. Do you know anything about that kid's family?"

"Her uncle owns a teashop and her dad works there, single parent with the other one unspecified 'not in the picture', apparently has a bunch of aunties but a lot are probably honorary. That's about it."

"Sokka, this writing–" He tears his eyes away from the window; On Ji is waving the sheet at him, frowning. She looks actually kind of concerned. "This is the old Imperial script, from the days of the royal court. It's what they all learnt instead of the normal Fire Nation script, and it's what all the old official documents used. It is not something I expected to randomly show up at our affordable neighborhood preschool."

"Huh," Sokka says after a moment for lack of anything better, and glances over at where Izumi is happily bossing around a couple of kids in some sort of play she's directing. Some sort of old Fire nobility? Yeah, he can see that. "He said it was because there's a few old family heirlooms written in that script?"

"Fair enough. It's just kind of weird." On Ji glances past him out the window. "Can you, I don't know… Ask? Surreptitiously?"

"Not with the conversation I'm about to have. One chaotic unwanted family discussion is going to be more than enough."

He catches Zuko's attention as he heads in to collect Izumi, just so they're not doing this outside in front of anyone. "Hey, can I just– Nothing bad! Nothing serious. Just, uh–"

He ushers Zuko into the office, hating how he already looks stressed.

"It's nothing bad," Sokka reiterates. "Really. It's not anything to be concerned about. But something came up today about– Well. About Izumi's mother. Or the lack of one."

Zuko scrubs a hand across his face, looking suddenly exhausted. "Fuck. Sorry–"

"Door's closed, it's fine."

"Fuck," Zuko says again, but quieter. "I just– I knew this was going to come up at some point, being picked on for her family situation. I just didn't expect it to be so soon."

"It wasn't bullying," Sokka hastens to add. "She wasn't being picked on, it was just a whole lot of confusion." He runs through the conversation, and manages to crack the slightest hint of a smile out of Zuko at his recounting of Izumi's indignant litany of aunties. "Kids are just like that sometimes, at this age," he says. "The idea of someone having a life outside of them is kind of foreign – they see their own life and family, their own likes and dislikes, and just presume that they're universal. Most of them still think all the staff live in the store cupboards, y'know?"

He gets another smile at that one. "Yeah. Makes sense. I just… I don't know. I always knew that she was going to be told her situation was weird eventually. Before this, I don't even think she realised that most people had two parents. It was too much to hope, I think, that it was going to last much longer."

Sokka hums in sympathy. "Like I said, she wasn't being picked on or anything, but she'll probably bring it up, even if it's just to complain about Yisu telling everyone she's telling fibs. Hope you've got an answer planned."

"I've had one planned for years, believe me." Zuko pushes loose hair out of his face and sighs, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Thanks for letting me know, Sokka. Not sure what I'd have done if she'd just dropped that on me before bed tonight."

"No problem. It's what I– what we're here for, y'know?" Spirits, he needs to get a hold of himself. "Just so you know – we have themes, like centering activities and books around specific topics. I'll see about moving the couple of weeks about family up in the term, maybe start it next week. Reinforce the lesson before this sort of thing kicks off again."

Zuko's eyes are soft when he drops his hands again, shifting from foot to foot like he doesn't quite know what to do with himself. "You don't have to do that."

"Nope!" Sokka agrees. "Probably don't. But why would I make Izumi sit through that conversation again – and make you sit through it – when I could head it off at the pass and help the kids get their acts together next week?"

"Oh. That's–" Zuko hesitates, lips parted, like he's not quite sure what to say, then settles on, "Thank you."

"I know this can't be easy," Sokka says after a moment. "But thank you for trusting us to look after Izumi like this. We're always going to try to do what's best for her, y'know?"

Shit, he almost said trusting me. No. That's...no. He's barely had a single conversation with the man, and none of them about anything other than his kid daughter. Stop it.

This whole professionalism thing would be so much easier if Zuko wouldn't keep fucking blushing at him.

---

Zuko frets the whole way back to the teashop, even though Izumi doesn't bring up The Incident even once, not even when she's showing him the necklace she made for Ty Lee or solemnly informing him of her plan to bribe Song into coming to school to make dumplings for her.

Song herself corners him once he's taken an order at the counter, Izumi cheerfully sequestered away in her corner and drawing pictures to go along with her gifts for Mai and Ty Lee. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine."

"You are not fine."

Song wedges herself in next to him behind the counter, and Zuko glowers at the teapot between his hands, trying not to boil it. He'll burn the leaves, and he doesn't have the energy to deal with customers right now.

"Izumi is going to ask you to come make dumplings at school," he says instead. "She's probably going to frame it as a daily thing, but they actually just want to know if you can come in one morning and teach the kids how to make them as a group activity."

"That's great, that's really lovely–" Song breaks off, whisks the teapot off to the relevant table, then returns with, "–but that doesn't explain why you look like someone just kicked a cat-owl." She pokes him in the ribs on the way past to grab another teacup, and grins as Zuko swats at her hand. "C'mon, you know the rules. If you don't want to talk about it, say so, but don't pretend it's all fine."

Zuko glares at her, but waits until the customers standing at the counter are gone. "Some kid was interrogating Izumi over why she didn't have a mother."

"...ah."

"Yeah." Zuko's clattering of plates is possibly a little more violent than it needs to be. "So. That happened. It sounds like they handled it, and they're going to be keeping an eye on it, but…" He glances over at Izumi, sat cross-legged in her alcove, chattering away to her plush badgerfrog on the cushion beside her. "She seems like she's fine, but it's like I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"At least they told you," Song offers, and Zuko hums in agreement.

There's another rush of customers at that point, the earlier batch of afternoon commuters, and a couple of regulars swing by Izumi's corner to chat with her while they wait for their drinks. He doesn't even realise he's watching her like an eagle-hawk in between serving until Song, leaning past him to grab a plate, jabs him in the side.

"Hey. Zuko. Cool it. I can feel the stress radiating off you, and it's already too warm back here with the ovens going. Stop it."

"Sorry," he mutters. "I just–"

"Look at her. She's fine."

...she does look fine. Song's not wrong. But–

"No buts, Zuko."

"What's he done this time?" Jin asks, sotto voce and with an eye roll in Zuko's direction as she sidles past them on her way to refill a tray.

Song plucks a pastry off the tray as she passes and breaks it in half. "He's fretting again."

"Ooh, about his boyfriend?" 

"I don't have a boyfriend," Zuko hisses at her, but takes note of the way she flushes and glances bashfully away as she takes the other half of the pastry offered by Song. She certainly makes it easy for him to give as good as he gets when it comes to teasing about crushes.

And if nothing else, the familiar taunting is taking his mind off Izumi – who is, yes, sat perfectly happily in her corner, no signs of distress or concern.

"Unfortunately it's about the kid, so it's not so mockable. Although, actually, Zuko – who exactly was it who said they'd handle everything and you didn't have to worry?"

"I hate you both," Zuko informs them, shouldering his way past with a tea-tray. "And I'm going to fire you."

"Like Uncle would ever let you."

---

The other shoe drops, it turns out, as Izumi is getting ready for bed. They're winding down for the evening, Izumi already eaten and bathed and in pyjamas, tucked up under Zuko's arm in bed as he reads.

He should have known, really. Stories from school – usually of the scandalous Papa, someone did something naughty today sort – are her favourite evening time-wasters when she's putting off Zuko leaving for the night.

"Papa?"

"Yeah, 'zumi?" Zuko leans over to tuck her third and last book of the evening back onto its shelf, and as he sits back upright Izumi latches onto his arm.

"Yisu told Sokka I was telling fibs today!"

Zuko's heart plummets. "Sokka did tell me you and Yisu had a bit of a disagreement about something today. Do you want to tell me about it?"

Izumi rattles off the story with a dozen tangents and a great deal of smugness over Sokka's intervention on her behalf, and Zuko hums and nods his way through it.

"And, and, Sokka said lots of people have two parents, but I don't."

"No, fireflake. You don't."

Izumi snuggles further into his side, clinging to him again. "Why?"

Zuko presses his face into her soft hair for a moment, hoping desperately that this is mostly a time-waster on her part and not a genuine interrogation. He has an answer, but he's not sure how well it'll hold up if she pushes.

"Lots of people find someone they love very much, who they want to live with, and then they decide to have a baby together. But when I found out that I was going to have a little baby fireflake arriving soon–" He nuzzles her neck, grinning at the quiet shriek of giggles as he blows a raspberry. "–I didn't have someone to live with. But I looked at all of your aunties and your uncle, and I thought that my baby 'zumi was going to have lots of people to love her and look after her. So I decided I didn't need another person."

"If you got a person, would I have a mama?" Izumi blinks up at him, eyes heavy with sleep.

"Maybe," Zuko says. "Or you might have two papas." He hesitates. Is she just parroting what she'd heard earlier that day, or–? "Do you want a mama?"

"Mm." Izumi tucks herself further into his side, yawning. "No. Yisu says a mama gives you baths and makes noodles and gives good kisses, but I told him I got Papa for that. Don't need a mama."

Just when Zuko thinks he can't possibly be any more in love with this kid–

"That's good, fireflake. I'm glad you're happy." Zuko presses kisses into her hair, then carefully extricates himself from her tangle of limbs. "Do you want to make noodles with me and your aunties after school tomorrow?"

Izumi nods into her pillow with something that sounds like a muffled Yisu says he's only got one auntie, and Zuko gives her one last kiss goodnight and slips out of the room, pulling the door almost closed and leaving the light on in the hallway.

He collapses back against the wall a moment later, once he's sure that she's not going to slip out of bed and come padding after him, and scrubs both hands across his face. That was...fine, right? That went fine. She accepted the explanation, there weren't any tears or pestering–

Spirits, when did she ever grow up so big?

Zuko slips silently into the kitchen with bare feet, pushing the door closed behind him, and pours himself a fortifying soju before going to call the one person that he knows for a fact isn't going to pander to his anxieties.

"You look horrendous, Zuzu," Azula's voice crackles through the headphones – he doesn't want to risk Izumi waking up at the sound of her auntie's voice – and he pulls a face at her and tucks his feet up more securely on the couch.

"Hello to you too, Lala."

"You're a decade too old to call me that."

"Says you." He makes a mental note to prompt Izumi to resurrect the old nickname in time for Azula's next visit, instead of the carefully enunciated Auntie Azula that had been taught to her last time.

"Anyway." Azula takes a sip of her wine and arches a brow at him. "You look like shit."

"Thanks, Azula." Zuko pulls his hair free from its pin, massaging his scalp, and glances back at the laptop. "There was a whole situation with Izumi today. It was kind of a mess."

"What did you do to my favourite niece?"

"I haven't done anything. It all went down at school–"

Azula narrows her eyes at the screen. "Don't tell me I need to fly over there and deal with a toddler. Izumi is too good for any of them."

"Don't you dare," Zuko snaps. "Spirits, calm down. You're going all–"

He wriggles his fingers vaguely near his face, and Azula glares at him and rakes her fingers through her hair, trying to flatten it again. Now that she has conscious and deliberate control over her lightning-bending, her habit of generating static every time she gets worked up is more amusing than anything else.

"Listen, 'zula, Izumi is fine. She enjoys school, she has something like three new best friends per day, she literally only brought it up so she could be smug about being told she was right."

Azula, giving up on controlling her fly-aways, gestures expansively at the screen with her wine. "If it's all fine and nothing to worry about, dearest brother, explain why you were such a mess when you called."

Zuko spells out the situation. "–so no, it's not actually anything to worry about. Doesn't mean it wasn't stressful."

To be honest, looking back, it was much less stressful than it had felt at the time. There's nothing better for putting something in perspective than trying to de-escalate and de-emphasise it for the one person who is even more highly-strung than he is.

Azula hums, not looking entirely convinced.

"Azula. It was stressful for me because it's something I'm already uncomfortable thinking about. Izumi really couldn't care less, by the sounds of it." He drains the last of his soju, weighing up going to fetch another glass. "I'll update her school on how it all went tomorrow, and they've already said that they're going to be addressing it in a more– Y'know. A more general sense."

"They did, did they?" She drums her nails on the bottle of wine as she pours another glass; there's a single diamanté on the ring finger, catching the light against the burgundy. Probably Ty Lee's work. "When you say they, are you talking about that boy of yours?"

Spirits, Zuko regrets that drunken rambling call to Azula on the evening of Izumi's third day of school, where he'd apparently spoken a little too much about how unfairly nice her new teacher was. He hadn't even said a single thing about Sokka's frankly rude habit of wearing tight t-shirts, or about how stupidly attractive his smile was.

"Don't you start," he says tiredly. "He's Izumi's key worker, he's in charge of maintaining her records and making sure she's doing okay, so he talks to me. Wow. Shocking. He's doing his job."

Azula looks far from convinced, but she shrugs. "I'll get the truth out of you when I'm over in a few weeks. You said she made Ty Lee a necklace?"

"She's going to make you one too, 'zula. No ifs or buts. And she's going to expect you to wear it."

Azula had been...sceptical, to say the least, of the tiny bundle of wrinkled skin and damp curls that Zuko had presented her with four years ago. She'd not been a big fan of the baby-stage at all, really. But somewhere along the line – somewhere between Izumi starting to turn her nose up at food offerings, babbling loudly at Iroh when he'd started to sing what she'd clearly decided was the wrong song, grinning up at Azula after her first tooth had come in – Azula had evidently decided that small children were acceptable once they had things like opinions and personalities. If Izumi was going to be here to stay, then Azula was going to be the best auntie this kid was ever going to have.

At least, that was how it had started out, even though her decision to move to Caldera City for university meant that she was automatically behind the local aunties in terms of immediacy and frequency of contact. Now, though, Zuko's pretty sure that if Izumi said jump, Azula would say how high? After attempting to educate her on prepositions, probably.

"Well," Azula says, once she's apparently been assured that Izumi won't forget to make her a necklace when she's made one for the other two, and that she'll have to wear it for the entire trip. "You had better tell me if she's ever being bullied, Zuzu. Don't just conveniently forget to tell me, like you did last time she got sick and you didn't want to worry me."

"She had a cold, Azula. You can't fight germs."

Azula sniffs, clearly not taking that fact for granted. "Well, that's not true of her being picked on. So tell me in the future."

"I am not going to tell you about bullying if it means condoning you fighting small children–!" Zuko whisper-shouts, conscious of Izumi across the hall, and Azula hums, unimpressed.

"We'll see. Now stop talking about yourself and tell me about my niece, brother."

---

In the end, Sokka thinks he can wrangle the start of the let's talk about families! topic up to midweek without too much disruption, if he promises to handle all the activities and planning that'll have to be done night-before or day-of.

"Look alive," he sings out to On Ji bright and early Tuesday morning. "Bossman's here!"

"I'm not your boss," Haru grumbles, dumping his bag in the office.

"You own the building–"

"My dad owns the building, we lease it from him."

"–and you pay us!"

"I manage your paycheques. It's not like I actually do much to keep you lot in line."

There's something muttered as he passes Sokka again that’s along the lines of Impossible to pay me enough to do that, which, rude but fair. They mostly all work along co-operative lines anyway, although Haru is responsible for handling all of the paperwork, which is why he only works three days actually on-site. Impossible to pay Sokka enough for all of that shit, honestly. The paperwork for his own kids is a very different thing to handling finances for the whole place.

Still, they're all here today, so he runs through his idea for getting the awkward families talk out of the way nice and early, and gets the go-ahead. Sokka sends a mental apology to Suki for commandeering the entire floorspace of their apartment every night for the next week, and starts planning.

It's a couple of days later that he's handing out the info flyers – he works fast, okay – and pulls Zuko aside. They'd talked about it all briefly, Zuko vaguely recounting the conversation and reassuring him that Izumi didn't seem to have internalised any of it, but Sokka had let him know that, well, since everything was already planned…

As part of our family theme at the moment, we're encouraging the kids to talk about who is in our families and what the concept of family means to them. For an activity on Monday, please help your child choose a photo that represents family to them – this could be biological or non-biological, friends, pets, stuffed animals, anything at all! Make sure they know to be prepared to talk about their photo at circle time on Monday morning – we're not forcing anything, but it'll be encouraged. Hanging around late on Monday morning to provide moral support is also encouraged, if you think it'll be needed!

"You really didn't have to go to all of this hassle," Zuko murmurs, staring down at the paper.

"It's not a hassle," Sokka insists. "Seriously. These are all activities and themes we already had planned – we just moved the schedule around a bit. On Ji even already had these typed out, besides the date. Besides, the kids love family week – they love getting to talk about themselves, y'know?"

That gets a smile out of Zuko despite all his fretting, and Sokka absolutely does not congratulate himself.

---

It really isn’t a hassle, in the end – he wasn’t just saying that for Zuko’s benefit. He even has time for family dinner! Well, sort of. He’s doing work in the middle of it once he's finished eating, mostly out of sight of the screen until Toph calls him out for the rustling papers.

“I can fold origami and talk at the same time!" Sokka protests, gathering up a handful of the little paper figures and showing the camera. "I got through a bunch – and anyway, either I do this or I just click my pen next to the mic for the next three hours. This is productive and quiet!"

"Sokka, why do you even need–" Katara squints at the screen. "Literally hundreds of origami people?"

"I'm mostly done with the people, I'm doing pets now." It's been a while since he's tried to fold anything more complicated than a crane; Sokka ends up sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he tries to remember how to do literally any other animal. "Work stuff."

"Work stuff, he says," Suki mocks, making Yue stifle a giggle into her shoulder. They're both at Yue's place tonight, because it's the only way to keep Sokka and Suki from getting into all-out warfare halfway through the call for some imagined slight. "He means he's doing a favour for his new beau."

"I don't have a beau," Sokka grumbles. "Who the fuck even says that anymore?"

"I think it's cute!" Aang protests, and Sokka flaps a hand at the screen.

"Who even says that anymore, besides grandpa over there? No offense, Aang–"

"It doesn't stop being rude just because you say no offense, Sokka–"

Sokka ignores his sister, as is his spirit-given right as a big brother. "No offense, Aang, but you talk like you're a hundred sometimes, not twenty-one."

"No offense taken!" Aang says cheerfully. "Loads of the monks were that old, and they were still pretty cool."

"Bad comparison," Toph tells him. "You're not cool now, so no way you're gonna be old and cool."

"Is it a being mean to Aang kinda night?" He mock-pouts and sprawls back against Katara again, very carefully not going anywhere near her stomach. She's barely even showing yet, but Aang has been alternately elated and terrified for the last few months – as has Katara, honestly, although Sokka doesn't think that she's talking about it to anyone besides him and Aang – and he seems to be conscious of where he is in relation to the baby bump at all times.

"Only because someone is clearly trying to distract us from the fact that actually it's a being mean to Sokka night," Suki says cheerfully.

"I'm just doing my job," Sokka says, squinting down at another attempt at an origami ostrich-horse. "And yes, okay, right now that also involves helping a guy who needs a bit more help with his kid."

"A guy you're into?" Katara sits forward again; everyone in the extended family is going to know about this by the morning. Thanks, Suki.

"I'm not into him. He's nice and, sure, he's pretty cute, and his kid is sweet. Big deal."

He gets enough ribbing from Yue at work and Suki at home about this – he doesn't need Gran-gran calling him up and asking if he's going to settle down with that nice boy she's heard about. He's getting a look from Katara that says she's going to pester him about it during their next secret sibling-only call, but at least they have a mutual agreement during these group calls that they don't completely derail them with petty fighting. La knows everyone put up with it enough back when they all travelled and lived together 24/7.

"Hey, Toph–" He waits until she's acknowledged him, mid-toe-picking. "You said your parents were coming to your next Rumble, right? They still planning that?"

It's a surefire distraction technique, as Toph starts off on another passionate rant about how her parents seem to think that the Earth Rumble organisers need to take special measures to protect her – apparently they've now decided to bring her old and ineffective teacher along to help her, which is the most blatantly ridiculous thing Sokka thinks he's heard in a while.

The nice thing about the origami for work, he decides, is that not only does it keep his hands occupied while they talk, but it also gives him the perfect excuse to ignore his phone repeatedly buzzing and lighting up as Suki texts furiously about how this isn't over yet you bastard, I will make you talk about your dilf or die trying.

Chapter Text

In the end, the picture Izumi had picked out is one that had hung behind the counter at the Jasmine Dragon for as long as it had been open.

Iroh is in the middle, beaming proudly with his arms around his niece and nephew – Zuko balancing a toddler Izumi on his hip, caught midway through saying something to her, and Azula on the other side, still eighteen and taking a weekend trip to Republic City to be there for the opening of the new branch. Mai and Ty Lee are next to her, Azula rolling her eyes at how she's being grabbed from both sides by excitable friend and proud uncle. Jin and Song are next to Zuko, having followed them from Ba Sing Se when Iroh had turned that branch into a franchise and moved the flagship store to Republic City. The photo has caught the exact moment a stray breeze had sent Zuko's loose hair flying into Jin's face and Song giggling behind her hand.

It's certainly not the perfectly posed photograph that had ended up on the Dragon's website, but Zuko prefers it.

When he gets to school that morning, he sends Izumi ahead of him with instructions to make sure she keeps hold of the photo and doesn't lose it. Sokka, standing in the doorway, catches his eye with a quick grin that fades slightly when he sees Zuko glance down.

"Just an old injury," he reassures Zuko when he reaches him, not even needing the question to be asked. "Aggravated it a bit at the gym over the weekend, I think – my housemate teaches self-defence classes, and she ropes me into being the villain sometimes, but people can get over-enthusiastic. Just a bit swollen now, is all. I've just got to keep it supported for a few days."

It's not as serious a heavy-duty brace as Zuko had thought at first glance – mostly just a visual cue for the kids so they know not to knock his leg, Sokka explains.

"You hanging around for the show-and-tell this morning?"

"'zumi wants the moral support," Zuko says with a shrug. "She'll talk your ear off if you give her half a chance, but I guess talking about a specific topic is different."

"It's good practice for when she actually starts school," Sokka reassures him. "Talking on command can be a struggle, and so can taking turns while talking. This sort of thing works well."

The parents who are able to hang around and provide support mill around outside for a while, Zuko finding a quiet corner to field texts from Jin and Song as they pester him about how on earth he manages his part of opening. He really should take sick days more often, just to get them some practice. There's a brief moment of slightly awkward eye-contact with Khiem's mother as they're waved inside by Yue – the two parents present who know exactly why this activity is being done.

Sokka is in a chair rather than sat on the floor like he's always seen him before, and Zuko amusedly notes how the braced leg stretched out in front of him has even given its own carpet square. He doesn't pay particularly close attention to most of the other kids giving their little talks, trying to tune out the buzzing of his phone in his pocket and mentally placing bets on how many are bitching about his incredibly specific arrangement of teapots versus Jin taunting him about the mere existence of Sokka.

Izumi edges towards Sokka when he tells her that she's next, casting anxious glances at Zuko for support, photo in one hand and her stuffed badgerfrog in the other. You can't jump in and solve every problem for them, Sokka had told him, and You have to let her struggle sometimes, even if it's difficult to watch. Zuko stuffs his hands into his pockets to quell the urge to reach out to her and just offers his best attempt at a reassuring smile.

"Is this your photo, Izumi? Do you want to show people?" She's mute, glancing between Sokka and Zuko. "Can I see the picture? Thank you, 'zumi. Can you show me where you are?"

She's clutching her badgerfrog in two hands now, and Zuko's heart aches. He knows he shouldn't, but he needs to step forward, to make sure she knows he's here, to make sure she's okay–

"Is this you?" Sokka asks, pointing at the photo, and Izumi's brow furrows as she stares down at it.

A minute headshake. "'s my Auntie Song," Izumi says, almost inaudible.

"Hmm, okay… What about this? Is that you?"

Another little shake of her head. "That's Auntie 'zula," she says, but there's a little bit of a giggle behind the words.

"Oh no," Sokka says dramatically. "Is this you, Izumi?"

"That's my papa!"

"Oh, so it is!" For a split second, Sokka glances up and meets his eyes and grins at him, and Zuko flashes a tiny smile in response. "I should have realised that was your papa. Are you...this one?"

"That's Uncle!" Izumi exclaims with a giggle. "That's me!"

She points at the photo, and Sokka gives an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Oh, there you are! You're such a big girl now I didn't even recognise you!"

Zuko is melting. Zuko is a damn puddle, right here in the corner of a small neighbourhood preschool, and he realises he's got one hand pressed to his mouth to hide the sappiness of his smile as Izumi excitedly chatters on about the photo, all nerves gone.

"–an' that's my Auntie Mai and Auntie Ty and Auntie Azula–" Careful enunciation of every syllable of Azula's name, now, like Azula had painstakingly taught her. "–and they live in the Caldera but they come and visit and bring me presents, and Auntie Ty says she's gonna teach me cartwheels! And my other aunties work with my papa–"

In the end, when Izumi comes bouncing up to him for her good-bye hug before he has to leave for work, all she does is hand him the photo and run off again – no comforting necessary. From across the room, he catches Sokka's eye and mouths a silent Thank you before slipping out the door.

---

"She did really well," is the first thing Sokka says when Zuko gets there that afternoon.

"Bit of a wobbly start," Zuko notes, but Sokka just waves a dismissive hand.

"That's normal. She's been here less than a month! The fact that she's comfortable standing up there at all was really good. Seriously, Zuko. She's doing great. You're doing a really good job with her."

"I'm not," Zuko insists. "She– I messed up on her sixth day, if she's doing well it's all down to you and the others–" He cuts off Sokka's flustered protests by staring fixedly at a point just past his shoulder and thrusting the cup of tea in his hand in Sokka's general direction. "Anyway. I brought this."

"You shouldn't have–" Sokka starts, taking it carefully and folding his hands around the lidded mug.

Zuko shifts awkwardly, curling his fingers around his own cup. He's glad he'd concluded that giving Sokka a drink and not having one for himself would feel weird, because at least it gives him something to do with his hands, and he can repeatedly adjust the lid instead of looking up and meeting Sokka's unexpectedly soft expression.

"It's one of my uncle's custom blends. Anti-inflammatory. It helped me a lot when I was recovering from surgery. If it helps, just, uh– Just let me know. And I'll make some more of the blend up for you to take home."

"Make up– Wait, Zuko, did you custom-make this?"

"It's not a complicated blend," Zuko mumbles. "It's not– It wasn't a hassle. I just… I know how annoying chronic pain can get, sometimes. And it works for me, so." He shrugs awkwardly, still not quite meeting Sokka's eyes. "And as thanks for helping with Izumi earlier, and for everything you've done these last couple of weeks, I guess. If you want."

"Thanks," Sokka murmurs, and when Zuko glances up he's fidgeting with the lid of the cup. "That's– That really means a lot, actually. Thank you." He flashes a lopsided smile up at Zuko. "It's a good photo, the one Izumi brought in. How old was she there? Two?"

"About that sort of age, yeah." Izumi is tugging at his sleeve, returned from the cloakroom, and he kneels down to button up her coat. "It's from the day the Republic City branch opened – my sister and our friends made it across from university for the occasion. My uncle has it framed behind the counter."

"It's a good one of the four of you, if I was right when I spotted your sister out of the line-up," Sokka says, as Zuko realises he's missed a button and sighs and starts redoing them. "Didn't realise your hair was that long, though."

"You'd never have seen it down," Zuko says absently, trying to keep Izumi from turning around to talk to another kid as he struggles with fiddly buttons. It's pretty and nice quality, but he really needs to remind Ty Lee of sensible preschooler-wear before her next batch of gifts. "I have to wear it up for work."

Apparently Izumi had been paying more attention than he'd thought.

"Papa's hair is really long," Izumi exclaims, twisting back around energetically and making Zuko scramble to stop her from popping all the buttons open again. "It's really, really–"

He doesn't realise what she's doing before a little hand is scrabbling for the hairpin shoved haphazardly through the twist of hair to keep it in place.

"Izumi, don't you dare–"

The thick coil of hair tumbles loose across his shoulders, not fully unravelling. Zuko sighs and pushes himself up to standing, running his hands through it until it hangs in a silky sheet down past the small of his back, trying to fluff some life back into it after a long day at work.

When he glances up again, Sokka's eyes have followed the motion.

"Your hair," he blurts out suddenly. "It's pretty– Uh. Pretty long. It's, I mean– It's. Longer than in the photo. Y'know?"

Zuko is not going to consider, not for one second, not with a single braincell, whether the dark flush across Sokka's cheeks is because he's blushing.

"I– Yeah." He has no such defense. Damn Fire Nation heritage and its irritatingly pale skin. "I've been growing it out for a while. Um. Since I was about sixteen?"

"Yeah. That'd. That would do it."

Zuko's eyes fall to where Sokka is white-knuckling his mug of tea, and then his hairpin is being shoved back into his hand and Izumi is towing him out of the door, impatiently telling him that Song is going to be making bao and they need to get home–

Spirits. He is a mess. Jin is going to have a field day.

---

Sokka tries not to stare dumbfounded after Zuko (and Zuko's back and Zuko's very nice shoulders and Zuko's fucking hair), and absolutely fails as he looks down at Izumi and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and almost, for a second, looks like he's sneaking a glance behind him at Sokka.

He certainly hopes Zuko isn't doing that, because he must be making one hell of a terrible sight right now. Sokka does not have a thing for hair. He really doesn't. He never has before. But Zuko's is unexpectedly… Well. Pretty.

"That," Yue says from behind him. "Was the most disastrous thing I have ever seen. And you asked me out."

"Shut up," Sokka grumbles, and gets on with actually doing his job instead of ogling the fucking parents, what the fuck, Sokka.

Yue waves him out after the kids have left instead of making him stay behind and help tidy up toys.

"Absolutely not. I'm going out with Suki tonight, go take your disaster bi energy somewhere else so it doesn't corrupt my vibes."

"I'm going home to Suki," he points out.

"She knows how to deal with your shit. Now, shoo."

---

Sokka throws himself face-first onto Suki's bed, narrowly avoiding a crash landing on freshly painted toenails.

"What now?"

"Suki," he says, muffled. "Suki, tell me to stop crushing on the hot single dad at work."

Suki doesn't look up from painting her nails. "Go out and bag yourself a DILF, babe."

"No. No, wrong instruction. I gotta stop."

"Says who?"

"Says everyone!"

"Yue doesn't," Suki points out.

He squints suspiciously up at her. "Do you two talk about me?"

"I mean, sure." Suki pats him on the head. "You live with me, you work with her. You come up in conversation."

That's not exactly what Sokka was asking, but…

"She can be the one to regale you with tales of my latest humiliation, then," Sokka grumbles, flopping over onto his back, and Suki pokes his cheek conciliatorily.

"You say that like you don't want to vent to me in the–" She checks the clock. "–the twenty-five minutes I have before I need to leave. Your time starts now."

"Why does Yue say I shouldn't try to cut off this whole crush thing?" he demands. "Has she– I mean, does she think–"

"I have no idea if she thinks your DILF likes you back," Suki says with a shrug. "I'm pretty sure she just thinks it's funny."

"You're both mean and I hate you," Sokka grumbles, rolling back onto his front, then back over again a second later. "Suki, he's just so nice, he brought me tea that's the special family custom blend just because I was having a bad leg day, and he always looks so surprised whenever I do anything thoughtful even if I'm just doing my job, and he's just so fucking good with his kid–"

"Is that part of the whole thing you like?" Suki looks slightly baffled.

"I don't know? I don't know! It's just–" Sokka screams quietly into his hands for a moment as Suki laughs at him. "He's just a good person, okay? Dudes being good with kids and pets immediately makes them, like, ten times hotter. That's just science, Suki."

She steps over him to sit on the other end of the bed to reach her vanity. "So what's today's crisis? Besides the tea?"

He's been trying to avoid talking too much about his stupid crush, in the vain hopes that not talking about it will make it even marginally easier to manage, so he's got most of the story of the last couple of weeks to spill out once he's fudged any identifying details.

"And," he finishes, as Suki makes supportive noises from her closet and rummages through shoes. "And then his daughter, the absolute enabler, pulls out his fucking hairpin. And I call him pretty."

Suki's head re-appears, gleeful. "Is he pretty?"

"Very. Insanely. I can cope with that normally, it was just his damn hair– Is that weird? I feel like it should be weird."

"Nah. People have nice features – so his might be his hair. Is it nice hair?"

"Suki. Suki. It's–" He waves vaguely, although it's closer to flailing at this point. "It's so nice. It's so long, like I swear he could literally sit on it? And it just looks so soft and silky and– Argh."

"You want to run your hands through it? Want to braid it?"

"Yes and yes," Sokka says into his hands, muffled.

"Maybe want to pull it a little bit?"

Sokka glares at her through his fingers. "Stop making my wholesome workplace crush into something dirty."

"That wasn't a no."

"Fuck off."

"Absolutely not. Tell me more about your disaster moment."

"Panicked. Said it was pretty. Caught myself and backtracked and said his hair was pretty long. Died a little bit. Was thoroughly mocked by Yue. Came here to complain about it to you."

"Sounds like a fun time!" Suki says cheerfully, lacing up her platforms and grabbing a coat. "You think he believed you when you backtracked and changed your story?"

"Spirits, I hope so," Sokka groans, and tries not to think about how horrendously awkward the next entire year will be. "I really, really hope he didn't realise that I just called him pretty to his face."

---

"–and then he just looked me dead in the eye and called me pretty."

"Holy shit," Jin says, sitting forward, eyes wide. "That's… Wow. Zuko."

"I mean. He corrected himself. He was just saying it was pretty long–"

"Zuko, c'mon. You don't really believe that. He thinks you're cute."

Zuko glances back at the kitchen, where Song is busy entertaining Izumi while he sits through an interrogation.

"...maybe."

Jin takes a long, self-satisfied slurp of her boba. "He absolutely thinks you're cute. And you don't, y'know…" She gestures vaguely with the drink. "You don't mind that he ended up using pretty as his compliment of choice?"

Zuko considers it for a moment, but his mind's eye just keeps returning to that glance he snuck over his shoulder as he left, Sokka staring after him, biting his lip and blushing dark and, yes, pretty damn pretty.

"I don't think I mind," he says at last. "I mean, if that is what he was saying–"

"It was," Jin insists.

"–if it was, then it was a genuine compliment. Not anything...pointed or snide or weird. So. I don't mind."

Jin sighs wistfully. "He sounds so sweet."

"He is," Zuko mumbles. "But, I mean. Nothing's going to come of it, so stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Jin asks indignantly, then immediately follows up with, "And you can't just announce that nothing's going to happen. That's not how this works."

"He's staff, Jin," Zuko says tiredly. "Off-limits."

"Okay, no. Listen." She sits forward again. "This isn't like service work where you might flirt with a customer for tips. He has literally no reason to be calling you cute unless he actually thinks it. And you said he's not a creep, right?"

"No," he says reluctantly. "Not a creep."

"There you go! He's saying you're cute because he thinks you are, and because he wants you to know about it. C'mon, Zuko. This is your chance!"

"I can't ask out my daughter's teacher! There'll be...I don't know, fraternisation policies or rules or something. You can't just do that!"

"Sure you can!"

She fishes in her pocket for her phone, and Zuko watches with a growing sense of dread.

"Jin. What did you do?"

"Did you know there's a load of teachers' forums out there?"

"Jin, did you post on a fu–" He cuts off, glancing back through to the kitchen, Izumi stood on a stepstool to reach the counter. "–on a public forum about this?"

"So! In response to a teacher asking about attraction to a single parent–"

"People are going to think he posted that!"

"No they won't, I fudged the details. You're the single dad of a five-year-old boy in Omashu. So, people's advice–"

Zuko gives up and snatches the phone out of her hands, scrolling back up to the question. "Look, a solid third of these people voted no. That's a lot–"

"Read the answers!" Jin seems to realise their voices are getting raised – thankfully it's terrible weather and there isn't a single customer in the place. "Just look at their reasons for voting no, Zuko, seriously. No, because you might give them preferential grades. No, because it would be awkward for the kid if you broke up. No, not while the kid is your student."

"Those are some pretty convincing reasons," Zuko murmurs.

"And they're all basically irrelevant to your situation! Izumi doesn't get graded. I mean, sure, she'll get reports and stuff, but they're not the same as actual graded tests. And, c'mon, you can hide a few casual dates from your kid if you keep it professional at school. None of those no answers are dealbreakers, right?"

He clearly doesn't look convinced, because Jin just sighs.

"At the very least, you could just wait a few months and ask at the end of the school year. If it's a no, he never has to see you again. If it's a yes, there's no awkwardness because Izumi isn't his student anymore."

Zuko rolls his eyes, pushing the phone back across the table. "What if I told you that was my plan all along?"

"If that was your plan, Zuko, you wouldn't be sat here less than a month into Izumi's first term, panicking about him complimenting you."

"Touché," he mumbles. "So you think I should just… What? Flirt with him for the rest of the year?"

Jin hums, clearly strategising. "Who's been escalating the flirting so far?"

"There hasn't been any flirting, Jin. I've been trying to, you know, be professional. Like a responsible adult."

"Eh. Sounds overrated to me. So." She opens the notes app, and Zuko quietly groans. "In calling you pretty, he is the one who escalated. Yes? Shh, Zuko, I don't need you to answer. I think you should let him take the lead, right? Flirt back a bit, show him you're interested, see if he keeps escalating." She slurps up the last of her boba and flicks the straw at Zuko. "How escalated do you think you can get by summer?"

"I will tip this teapot over your head, do not test me." Zuko tilts his chair back, staring at the ceiling, listening to Izumi singing loudly along with the radio in the kitchen. "I can't believe you're actually suggesting this. I haven't flirted in years, Jin. Not since Izumi – since longer. I'm going to look like such an idiot, I'm going to make a complete fool out of myself–"

"He clearly sees something that he likes, and you have literal months to perfect it before summer, if that's your deadline for asking him on a date. It's just practice!"

The only person he'd really dated was Mai, and that had formed fairly naturally out of a friendship, even if it had been fairly short and most of it had ended up being long-distance while he was in Ba Sing Se. He'd gone on a single solitary terrible date with Jin, before Uncle had offered her a job. Nothing else he'd done had really counted as a date – it certainly wasn't a method of flirting that was safe for work, let alone safe for Sokka's work.

"Don't make me get out my colour-coded calendar and plan weekly goals for you, Zuko!" a cheerful voice at his ear announces, and he bites back a curse and spins in his seat, glaring at Song.

"Can you not sneak– Were you listening to that?"

"Obviously. Don't worry, the kid wasn't listening." Izumi is still in the kitchen, singing tunelessly.

"Fine," Zuko says through gritted teeth. "I'll think about it."

Even if he's still pretty sure that their read of the situation is completely off, since it's all being filtered through Zuko's stupid crush, he guesses that… Well, if Sokka does end up flirting with him, there's no harm in reciprocating, right?

The conversation breaks off there, with an alarm in the kitchen and Izumi shouting that the cakes are done, but after they've all eaten at least one and Song has roped Izumi into helping her carry the rest to the fridge to chill, Zuko nudges Jin and nods down at her phone.

"So you made notes on how to improve my love life?"

"Obviously."

"Do you plan on taking your own advice any time soon?"

Jin's ineffectual glare is a thing of beauty.

Chapter Text

As the leaves fall and autumn turns to winter, it is, Zuko discovers, actually fairly difficult to tentatively flirt when you're trying not to give the impression of favouritism. He's taken to bringing tea for all of the staff, maybe once every couple of weeks, sometimes with the excuse of testing new blends on them – and if he brews the anti-inflammatory blend for Sokka whenever he notices that he's favouring his right leg in the morning, after he'd admitted that first time that it had helped, then he never brings it up. They still chat in the morning and afternoon, at drop-off and pick-up, branching out into topics other than Izumi with increasing regularity, although always with plausible deniability. Zuko is trying to get less shy with smiling at him, and not immediately jolting away from any accidental contact.

Sokka hasn't called him pretty again since.

Which, yeah, that had been a bit too much to expect, he supposes, although Jin and Song seem to have different ideas of what too much means.

Zuko, Song had insisted, whipping out her phone to gesture at the colour-coded schedule she'd made against his protests. The autumn term is nearly over. Once we're back after the solstice, that's one third of your time gone – to stay on track, by that point you need to have returned at least one compliment.

I do compliment him!

Compliments on his ability to look after your kid don't count, Zuko!

Izumi, thank the spirits, is none the wiser. He wishes he could say the same for Sokka's coworkers; Yue in particular seems to take inordinate glee in redirecting even the easiest and most innocent of Zuko's questions back to the Water Tribe man almost immediately, calling him away from whatever he's doing with a Sokka, Zuko had a question–

All that to say, Zuko is doing fine. He is. He really is! Jin keeps threatening to steal his pins and hairties before pick-up just so he can check out Sokka's reaction for a second time, but he's managed to fend her off so far. Besides, he doesn't need compliments and attention and flirting to be able to enjoy the little flutter that comes along with a crush and the warmth of Sokka's smile, and there's something fun about spending an extra five minutes to make sure he looks nice because he wants to impress someone. He hasn't cared about that sort of stuff in a while – it's difficult to, when you've got a kid.

Which naturally means that at the next possible opportunity to have any sort of moment, as Song keeps calling it, is at a time that Zuko looks like absolute shit.

---

"What are the rules?" Zuko asks, crouching to tuck the ends of Izumi's scarf into her coat.

"Gotta keep near houses, not the road," she rattles off. "Only one lamppost. No hiding from papa."

"Alright, fireflake." He tugs her hat down over her ears and drops a kiss on the tip of her nose, grinning as she returns the favour. "Off you go, then."

Izumi takes off down the street like she's been shot out of a cannon, making a beeline for the lamppost on the corner of the street, and Zuko follows at a more sedate pace. They've done this often enough that he knows she's not a runner, and the sight of a cute dog triggers excited squealing and shouts for her papa to catch up, not sprints across the road.

When he catches up she's bouncing on her toes, still restless, and Zuko leans down to pull her into a hug and kiss her forehead before sending her off to the next one, the ends of her scarf already flapping loose behind her. Cuddles and kisses are the tribute Izumi demands in exchange for not running off, apparently, and stopping at every lamppost means that she gets plenty. As the colder weather means spending less time outdoors at preschool, she has a lot of excess energy to burn off before Zuko makes her sit quietly and colour in the shop for a couple of hours.

They make their way towards home, with Zuko wondering how long she's going to need to keep this up before deciding she'd rather just hold his hand and talk. They're about ten minutes into the half-hour walk, Izumi spinning in circles around the post before turning her face up for a kiss and running off again. There are patches of snow along the very edge of the path, where they've drifted up against houses and are shaded from the sun, and Zuko idly scuffs his boot through one as he walks, hearing the clocks chime a quarter to the hour, then glances back up to check if Izumi has reached the next post yet.

Which means he sees the exact moment that she falls.

Izumi falls all the time, she's kind of a clumsy kid, and Zuko has trained himself to not immediately jump to comforting her – it just triggers sobbing when she'd otherwise bounce right back up.

This time, there's a moment of deathly silence, then Izumi wails.

He's reached her in barely a second, and– The snow is already stained red. Shit. Shit.

There are words somewhere in Izumi's sobs now. "I know it hurts, 'zumi, but I need you to sit up for me– C'mon, fireflake, sit up so papa can see where it hurts–"

It's a nosebleed, not a head-bleed, thank Agni, but there's blood on her face, all down her coat, all over the snow–

"You're okay," Zuko murmurs, wiping at her face with the end of her scarf. The part of him that's screaming is somewhere at the back of his brain now, just barely dissociated enough that he can keep it together for Izumi's sake. "You're alright, sweetie, I've got you. You're okay."

Even at his fastest pace, taking care on the snow and ice, it's going to be another ten minutes to reach the shop. Or–

Zuko lets go of her for the moment it takes to unzip his own coat and bundle her up against his front, then he stands and almost slips on the same patch of ice that took Izumi out not a moment earlier. The snow at his feet looks like someone has been massacred.

"We're gonna go back to school and patch you up, fireflake," he says, only half to Izumi. "Someone's gonna be there, and they've got a first-aid kit so they can clean you up and make sure you're okay."

Izumi's sobs are quieting, but she's snuffling into his neck and still shaking in his arms. Sokka had definitely said something about staff stopping behind for an hour or so, right? He's not making that up?

His feet carry him back to the building, still whispering reassurances into his daughter's hair, and almost before he realises that he's reached it, he's bumping his elbow against the intercom over and over in the desperate hope of someone being there to buzz him in–

Zuko stumbles through the gate into the playground as soon as it unclicks, and Sokka flings the door open and dashes out of it, hands hovering as though he almost wants to grab Zuko but is thinking better of it.

Spirits, Zuko wishes he would grab him, just for the grounding touch of someone other than Izumi, still whimpering quietly in his arms. He feels like he's about to shake apart.

"She tripped, or slipped on the ice, or something, and she's bleeding–"

"Shit, right, okay–" Sokka scrambles to get him into the building, shoving a bucket of cleaning equipment to one side. "Do you wanna sit down and– Yeah, okay, like that–"

Zuko sinks into the chair, stroking Izumi's hair. "You gotta turn around so Sokka can see, fireflake. C'mon, I know it hurts, just look at me–" In the end he has to bodily turn her around in his lap, hugging her from behind, just as Sokka gets back from grabbing a first-aid kit.

"I promise I'll be as quick as possible," he says, probably to both of them, and Zuko presses kisses into Izumi's hair as Sokka carefully wipes at the blood on her face and then gingerly feels around her hairline and up across her scalp. "Did you trip and fall over, 'zumi?" he asks sympathetically, probing at the side of her head.

Izumi hiccups, still shaking a little, and minutely shakes her head.

"She was running on ahead," Zuko says quietly. "I think she slipped on the ice. It was only– Spirits. Just a couple of minutes ago."

"You saw her fall?"

Zuko tries to still his shaking hands, for Izumi's sake, and tries to ignore the way the images flash behind his lids. "Yeah. I– Yeah. I did."

The smile Sokka flashes up at him is strained and sympathetic. "Hate to make you revisit it, but did you see if she hit her head?"

Zuko closes his eyes for a moment. The flash of sun off ice, Izumi flailing for a moment–

"Face-first. Hands-first, really."

Sokka reaches for Izumi's hands and carefully pulls off her gloves – there's a hole abraded straight through the base of the palm on the left glove, and her hand is a little scuffed and bloodied.

"Hurts," Izumi complains, trying to pull her hand back, and Sokka hums sympathetically.

"I'm sure it does, kiddo. You took a bit of a tumble, huh?" He rips open an alcohol wipe. "This is gonna hurt a little bit, too, but we've got to make sure all the dirt and nasties are out of there, alright?"

He glances up at Zuko, who nods and takes Izumi's wrist more firmly, but just at that moment another drop of blood lands on her blue leggings and that's enough of a distraction for Sokka to wipe her hands down.

"Is your nose still bleeding, fireflake?" Zuko leans around to get a better look and almost bumps heads with Sokka doing the same thing.

"Feels weird," she mumbles, squirming around a bit and trying to bury her head back in Zuko's chest.

Sokka squints at her. "Yeah, definitely slowed down, but still bleeding a bit. If you pinch her nose, just under the bridge–"

Izumi makes a concerted effort to bat his hand away, but Zuko whispers reassurances into her hair and holds firm. "C'mon, 'zumi, you gotta keep your head down so the bleeding can stop–"

"Do you want to read a book while your papa does all the boring first-aid stuff, Izumi?" Sokka winks up at him as he reaches for a stack of books, and Zuko just about musters a tired smile. "What do you want to read? You can pick anything."

"Otter-penguins," Izumi mumbles, giving up on gingerly prying at Zuko's fingers and instead wrapping her arms around his forearm as a sort of makeshift hug.

"Here it is! I remember you enjoyed that one."

"We have it at home, too," Zuko says, resting his chin on the top of Izumi's head. "Don't we, fireflake? You liked it so much after Sokka read it at school that you asked me to buy it."

"Yeah?" Sokka shifts around awkwardly until he settles for sitting cross-legged near Zuko's feet, holding the book high enough that Izumi can see it while still forcing her to keep her head tilted downwards, then flashes a smile up at Zuko.

"Yeah. It's one of her favourites. Gets pulled out most nights."

It was one of the books that had come out of the school's time to talk about families weeks, the true story of a couple of male otter-penguins in Ba Sing Se Zoo who had adopted an abandoned egg. Zuko remembers it being in the local news, back when he was sixteen and living in Ba Sing Se and an emotional wreck, and it's kind of fitting that it's the one she picks most often now.

It's unexpectedly domestic, Sokka leaning more and more into the side of Zuko's leg as his arms get tired holding up the book, and Izumi leaning her whole weight forwards against Zuko's arms to read out loud, or at least to ad-lib along with the plot and narrate the illustrations – because spirits, she knows it by heart by now. Zuko rests his cheek against her soft hair, trying not to smile at Sokka's encouraging hums and the way he asks questions about her half-invented storylines.

This is normal. This is fine. Just two guys and a kid, reading a book about two gay otter-penguins and their chick, as Sokka's shoulder leans comfortably into Zuko's thigh. He's pretty damn glad right now that he's too emotionally strung-out, still on edge about Izumi, to think about it too much. He can look back on it and have stupid warm fluttery feelings later.

Or, more realistically, he can look back and feel horrendously embarrassed about the entire situation. Either. Likely both.

Sokka closes the book and sets it to one side as Izumi wraps up the story – or at least her version of it. "You think your nose is all better now, kiddo?"

Izumi makes a petulant little noise of complaint at the reminder, tugging at Zuko's hand again, and he obediently lets go of her nose.

"I think it's stopped?"

"Mm, looks like. How long has it been?"

The clock had been striking the quarter-hour, so– "Somewhere between ten and fifteen minutes since she fell? And her nose stopped bleeding somewhere in the middle of reading."

"Right. That's good, but she did still fall–" Sokka chews his lip, and Zuko lets Izumi wriggle around in his lap to face him.

"You sleepy, fireflake? It's been a stressful little while, huh?"

"Adrenaline crash," Sokka notes as Izumi nods against Zuko's neck. "Okay. I know this is awkward, but, uh, holder of a paediatric first aid qualification speaking, so – even though the bleeding has stopped and she's likely okay, it's still best practice for her to get checked out by a professional, since she bled after she fell and might have hit her head. The urgent care centre isn't too far away–"

"Sounds good," Zuko says, poking Izumi in the back so she doesn't try to fall asleep. "What's the address for getting a taxi called?"

"What? No!" Sokka laughs. "That was me offering you a lift if you wanted one. Seriously."

"You don't have to–"

"Zuko. Come on. I'm not going to strand you and the kid here when I'm the one who said you should go see a doctor."

"You shouldn't–"

"I've gotta go to the doctor?" Izumi stares up at him, honey-brown eyes wide, and Zuko hushes her and pulls her back down against his chest.

"They've just got to make sure that your nose isn't going to start bleeding again, 'zumi," he reassures her. "Nothing big or scary. It's going to be really boring if we have to sit here holding your nose again, isn't it? So we've just got to ask a doctor to look at it and make sure it's okay."

Sokka walks them out back to the private parking, and Zuko doesn't let go of Izumi's hand once.

"It really is just a precaution," Sokka says quietly, leaning closer so Izumi doesn't pick it up. "The nosebleed stopped in, what, ten minutes or so? No sign of a bump on her head, and I checked her pupils while I was cleaning up her face and there doesn't seem to be any sign of a concussion. Seriously. But I think having that confirmed by someone who knows what they're talking about is going to help you sleep better at night."

"I hate the fact that you're right," Zuko mumbles, instinctively grabbing Izumi's hand tighter as he feels ice underfoot.

Sokka scrambles to gather up a handful of fast-food cartons and shove them out of sight – I really need to get out of the habit of grabbing food on my way home, my housemate always calls me out on it – and then pauses.

"Oh. Huh. I don't have a car-seat."

"I think it's fine for short distances and necessary travel, at her age? Like, legally. The speed limit between here and urgent care is pretty low anyway."

He ends up in the back next to Izumi, meeting Sokka's eyes in the rearview mirror as he flashes a smile. "So, Princess Izumi, where are we going? Your chauffeur awaits!"

"Papa says I gotta go see a doctor," she grumbles, and Sokka laughs, meeting Zuko's eyes again.

"Yeah, you do have to. That's not a bad thing! Doctors are very clever, they know how to look after you. My sister is going to be a doctor!"

Zuko lets the conversation drift around him a little as he glances around the car, trying not to look like he's snooping. Strings of lights, presumably battery-powered, are strung up all around the edges of the roof, and Sokka has a handful of photos and scraps tucked into the mirror in the front – some indistinct figures that he can't see from back here, a couple of crowd scenes against a white background that he presumes is the Southern Water Tribe. A more close-up photo of Sokka and a couple of others, shot with flash in a dark room, the light catching off the glitter along his cheekbones and the gold-and-enamel of the pins in his leather jacket. Huh. Zuko knows that flag. When he's not utterly emotionally exhausted, he's probably going to be having a lot of feelings about that later.

Next to him, Izumi brightens up a little. "Is your sister gonna look at my nose?"

"She doesn't live in the city, 'zumi, sorry. But maybe she can visit school and talk to everyone about healing at some point?"

"Oh, is she a water-healer?" Zuko's only had any experience with one water-healer, speeding up the very first stages of healing after his surgery when he was twenty, but he's spent a whole lot of time wondering what they might have been able to do with his burns if he'd been able to see one right away. And this gets his mind off the photos, too, so that's useful.

Sokka takes his eyes off the road for a moment to glance up at the mirror again. "Yeah, a year younger than me. At the moment she's on track to be a qualified healer within the year – although she was a master by her late teens, honestly. She's not sure whether it's her calling long-term, but she's good at it, y'know? And she was always the one who checked the village kids over when they bumped their heads on the ice." He flashes a thumbs-up at Izumi, already pulling into the entrance for the urgent care centre. "You think we'll find you a water-healer today, princess? It feels really funny when they put the water on you and it glows."

"Is a healer gonna read otter-penguins with me?" she asks hopefully, and Zuko shares a briefly helpless smile with Sokka in the mirror. Yeah, she sounds like she's back to normal. Unlike Zuko's heartrate and adrenaline spike, which he suspects won't settle down until she's safely in bed tonight.

---

Zuko checks her in at the desk – four years old, slipped on the ice and had a nosebleed, bleeding stopped between ten and fifteen minutes after the accident, no sign of any head trauma but he wanted to get her checked over since she did likely hit her head–

"And are we checking you in today as well, sir?"

Zuko blinks at her, nonplussed, then focuses his gaze on the reflection of the perspex screen between them – blood streaked across his cheeks and chin and neck from carrying Izumi, soaking down into the neck of his shirt and across his chest, hair an absolute mess. Oh. Oh.

"Sorry," he says after a moment. "Um. I think my daughter bled on me."

"They do that, sometimes, don't they?" the woman at the counter agrees cheerfully. "There's a bathroom just there behind you if you want to wash up, and your partner can take little miss Izumi through to find a seat in the waiting room."

Zuko's in the bathroom, staring at his bloodied reflection, before he realises that the receptionist had called Sokka his partner. Oh. That's something to keep him awake at 3am for the next week, huh?

Still, he has more pressing matters at hand. Like wiping his daughter's blood off his hands and arms, holy shit. Scrubbing at the sleeves of his coat the best he can, pulling off his t-shirt to run the stained front under the cold tap in a vain attempt to stop the blood from setting into the fabric, splashing water onto his face and wiping it off with toilet paper. He can't think too hard about it being Izumi's. She's fine now. She's fine.

Urgent care isn't too busy in a mid-week late afternoon, so it's not too hard to find Sokka and Izumi, sat in a corner near a collection of toys with Izumi already on the floor playing.

"About what she said–" Zuko starts awkwardly, and Sokka waves a hand at him.

"No stress, really. It's all good."

It absolutely is not all good, but. Whatever.

"Oh, and–" Sokka starts, interrupting his slight spiral. "Have you let your coworkers know that you're running late?"

"Oh, shit. No, I haven't." There are a dozen missed texts and calls from Jin and Song, and Zuko hastens to reassure them. So sorry that he's running late, not sure how long he'll be, Izumi fell and he's having to get her checked over at urgent care– The expected panic kicks off, and Zuko snaps a photo of Izumi sat on the floor playing, angling it to avoid a photo of the boy she's playing with and ending up with Sokka's legs and hands in frame – dress a little bloody and leggings muddied at the knees, but perfectly alright.

Immediate relief from Song.

Immediate Wait, is that guy next to you who I think it is? from Jin.

Zuko promptly ignores his phone and tucks it back into his pocket. He'll pay the price for that later.

"Thanks for stepping up like this," he murmurs, looking down at his hands instead of glancing up at Sokka. "You didn't have to, but–"

"No, I didn't have to, but Izumi doesn't stop being one of my kids just because it's outside my hours. Of course I'm going to step in and help when something like this happens." He laughs, shoulder knocking briefly against Zuko's. "Give me some credit, Tui and La. I do actually care about the kid – I'll always help handle things like this if you need it. Seriously. Just ask."

"You did good at calming her down." At calming me down, he doesn't say, but he suspects Sokka hears it anyway. "I just– Sometimes I just feel so helpless."

"I think that's pretty normal," Sokka murmurs. "Feeling that way, I mean. You can't control everything she ever comes into contact with, you can't set the world up so she never has to struggle–"

"Not just that." Zuko tucks one foot up onto the edge of the seat and hugs his leg, chin resting on his knee as he watches Izumi. "All of this happened because I wasn't being careful enough. I don't know what I'd have done if you weren't there."

"You would have been fine. Really. You would." Sokka nudges him with his shoulder, more deliberately. "You didn't do anything wrong by letting her run ahead, if you trust her not to run off. It's, y'know, developmentally appropriate and all that jazz. This is the right age for her to start getting a bit of independence like that – and you're not going to be there to hold her hand every time she falls. You just need to make sure she knows you'll be there to help when she gets back up again."

Zuko shifts in his seat, resting his unscarred cheek against his knee to look sideways at Sokka. "Have I ever told you how much I hate that you always seem to know the right thing to say?" Sokka glances up from where he's watching Izumi, startled, and his gaze softens as he meets Zuko's eyes. "Seriously. You'd get on well with my uncle, I think. You say a lot of the same stuff, just less...cryptic."

"Bring him to pick up Izumi some time," Sokka suggests. "I'd like to thank him in person for that tea. That stuff is a miracle. And–" He hesitates, and Zuko notices once again the way he worries the corner of his lower lip between his teeth. "And thanks, for saying all that. It means a lot. It's– I've not exactly been doing this for long, you know. I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing, most of the time."

"Well, whatever you're doing is working. Izumi adores you. Comes home and it's all Sokka said this, Sokka did that–"

"All good stuff, I hope?"

Agni, they're sat shoulder-to-shoulder, knee-to-knee, and Sokka is grinning at him–

"Mm, mostly. Although that first week or so, it was lots of Papa, isn't Yue really really pretty, so maybe you have to step up your game." Is he... tentatively attempting to flirt? No, bad idea, he's still kind of covered in blood. He can feel it under his nails, dried and flaking.

"That's fair enough," Sokka says with a laugh. "Can't fault her for that one. But honestly, if you ever have any sort of feedback, just come and tell me. I'll always be listening."

Zuko hums, leaning forward to pull Izumi's hand away from her face as she complains that her nose itches. "I know, fireflake, but you gotta see a doctor first– It'll stop being itchy soon, I promise, try to think about your games instead– How did you decide to get into this line of work anyway? You've never mentioned kids."

"Nah, I've not got any." Sokka scrunches up on the chair to sit cross-legged, seemingly not caring if it means his knee overlaps Zuko's thigh. "Used to want a whole gaggle of kids, an army of mini-mes, but teaching kind of takes that out of you. I'd go for one or two now, I think. Although I am gonna be an uncle."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! My sister – the one I mentioned, doing her healer training – she's due in late spring." Sokka pulls his phone out of his pocket, pulling up an ultrasound photo. "Her husband is the Air Nomad I've talked about, doing all the air-related stuff for school. They technically live over on the island, but, well– He's mostly moved away from the whole monk lifestyle thing since he's settled down with Katara, but he still does the nomadic thing, at least until she gets too close to her due date. They're in Omashu, last I heard."

"You both ended up moving away from the South?"

"Yeah. Ties in with the other thing you asked, I guess – why I chose to go into this line of work. It's not exactly common for guys. Short story–"

"You can tell me the long story."

"Oh, no, I–" Sokka glances up at him again. "I don't want to bore you."

Zuko flashes him a crooked little smile, settling his cheek more comfortably on his knee. "You listen to Izumi ramble on about her aunties all the time. You can tell me the long story. I can listen."

"The long version of why I ended up going into teaching?" Sokka snorts. "Spirits. Okay. Do you know how things are in terms of jobs, in a lot of the South? We've still mostly held onto living properly – traditionally, I guess – living off the land, never taking more than you can give. My village is coastal, fishing, but we still move seasonally. Others are fully nomadic. The permanent ice cities have always been more of a Northern thing. But all of that means that if you want to spend money abroad that isn't just for trading – like sending your kid overseas for higher ed – you need to earn the kind of money you can't get from regional trade." He grins at Zuko. "I did say I was telling you the long story, didn't I?"

"Tell it anyway," Zuko urges. "I've never been to the South. I like hearing–" –you talk about it– "–about places I want to visit."

"You should go, take Izumi. There's a colony of otter-penguins right near my village – me and Katara used to ride them, growing up. They don't let you do that at Ba Sing Se Zoo." He glances over at her, clearly checking if she's heard. "Anyway. Because of the whole work situation, most families will have at least one parent working abroad or out on the big fishing trawlers, at least seasonally. No-one likes it, it's not ideal, but it's a way to build up savings. Although a lot of our generation is being encouraged to live abroad for a couple of decades and send money home, I guess, but mine and Katara's parents aren't really pushing that side of things very much." He hesitates. "Did I tell you about–?"

"You said you have three parents," Zuko remembers. At the time he'd presumed separation and remarriage, or maybe remarriage after a death.

"Yeah. When we were kids, me and Katara – there's only the two of us – our mother got sick. Like, really sick. Our dad asked his childhood best friend to help out, while he handled– Well, at the time, everything thought it was end-of-life care. Bato was basically a second dad to us, and after a while apparently everyone figured out what they probably should have done while they were all kids–"

He sounds amused, so Zuko tries to remind himself that this probably doesn't end with a dead mother and focuses on uncoiling the tight knot of dread in the pit of his stomach.

"–and she gave our dad her blessing to go after Bato, because she knew he'd feel guilty about doing it after she was gone. Except she didn't. Go, that is. She recovered. Mostly, I mean, she's still not well most days, but– But she's here. And in the end, with a lot of prodding and poking from me and Katara… Yeah. We have three parents now! For a while one of our dads stopped home while the other one went out and worked, usually, but she's doing a lot better these days." He pauses, tapping his fingers on his knee. "Oh, yeah, that's why we brought this up. Working. Sorry, I get off topic sometimes, my brain just– Whoosh."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Zuko laughs. "Your family sounds lovely. You can talk about them all afternoon, if you want."

"Don't try me. I will. I have so many ridiculous stories, you have no idea. But. The point. Is about working. Right, so – most of the villages don't have enough kids to warrant a proper school. Ours didn't, anyway. Thank La for online schools, they've been a lifesaver for the smaller communities in the South, honestly, but you still need kids to sit down and do the work. And add in the fact that most of us had one parent away from home for huge chunks of the year, and the other parent still had work to do? Getting kids to actually sit down and work was hard. And everything lined up so that by the time I was thirteen, I was the oldest kid in the village – the older ones were off at academies and universities outside the South – and actually the oldest guy, too, except for the elderly men. All the others were off working."

"That's a lot for a kid to deal with," Zuko says, sitting up for a moment to work his hairtie free and rub at the crown of his head where his smart work-appropriate topknot has been tight and pulling at his scalp all day.

He's halfway through finger-combing the tangles when he realises that Sokka hasn't picked the thread of the story back up, and– Oh. Yeah. He remembers why he's kind of been avoiding having his hair down around Sokka, now. He doesn't dare glance across to see if he's watching – doesn't know which would be worse.

"Can your mother work much?" he asks in a vain attempt to cut off the silence, throwing his hair back up into a messy bun at the nape of his neck instead of bothering to braid it.

When he does look back, Sokka is glancing away, fingers tap-tapping at his knee, although he looks back over after a second.

"Yeah, but not really outside the home much. That's the thing with living in the South – it takes time and effort to layer up if you want to spend more than a few minutes outside, and she just doesn't have the energy to do that regularly on top of working, you know? She does a lot of crafting and beadwork. My phone's lockscreen is actually–"

Zuko's seen Water Tribe beadwork before, for sale and occasionally worn around the place, but the piece Sokka is showing him – photographed close-up enough that it fills the screen, like some sort of abstract artwork – is unbelievably intricate, and he tells him so.

"Yeah, she's incredible." Sokka grins down at his phone again and shoves it back in his pocket. "That piece is lots of symbolic sh–" He glances sharply at Izumi, still messing around with the box of toys. "Lots of symbolic stuff. Home and family and all that. It's one of the ones we haven't sold." He frowns down at his hands for a moment. "Wait, no– I can't believe you let me go on another tangent, Zuko, c'mon–"

Zuko hides a smile, knocking their shoulders together again. "What if I like your tangents?"

This is dangerous. This is so, so dangerous. He absolutely should not be sat in the waiting room of a damn urgent care centre, still a horrendous mess, trying (and failing) to flirt with Sokka. But. Sokka's not telling him to stop.

Jin would be proud. Azula, less so.

"My sister would tell you to stop encouraging me," Sokka says cheerfully. "But she's not here! But in the interests of actually answering your question before Izumi gets called in for her appointment – so, I was the oldest kid. That meant a lot of child-wrangling, especially since Katara was usually off doing her waterbending training, and the next oldest kid wouldn't even count as a pre-teen. And they looked up to me, a lot of them, as… As some sort of father-figure, I guess. I never planned that, it just happened. And most of them refused to actually sit still and do their work, so usually I'd try and combine all their curriculums so I could teach them all similar stuff but for their own age bracket. And then the school day would end, and I'd go home and do my own work." He laughs at Zuko's incredulous stare. "I know, I know. But I liked the kids! I liked knowing that I was the one who was teaching them this stuff. Seeing them understand something for the first time? It's kind of crazy how good it feels."

Zuko remembers Izumi's first smile, first words, first steps – and even beyond that, the first time she begged him to help her do a play, the first time her clumsy little fingers folded a passable dumpling, the first time she helped him pour tea.

"Yeah. I get that."

"I was going to go to university for astrophysics," Sokka says, and grins at Zuko's sheer bafflement. "Yeah, I know, that's what everyone does. But I really do enjoy it! I'd have loved doing that as a degree. But when I was explaining why my grades weren't quite as high as predicted, and got off onto a ridiculous tangent about the kids – terrible interview tactics, let me tell you that – the professor stopped me and asked if I'd ever considered teaching. And now here we are."

"And here we are," Zuko echoes. "Wait, how old are you?"

"Twenty-two. This is my second year being fully qualified, so I basically have no idea what I'm doing and require obscene amounts of reassurance at all times. How old– No, I shouldn't ask, that's a terrible–"

"I'm twenty-three," Zuko interrupts, and tips his head towards Izumi. "Don't think about the numbers too hard. But yeah, I get the whole–" He gestures vaguely. "The whole being young and having no idea what you're doing thing. I've spent her whole life feeling like that, and getting– Well, I want to say well-intentioned advice from old ladies at the tea shop, but I'm pretty sure it was meant to be insulting." He grimaces. "And lots of trying to set me up with their granddaughters, because clearly one young guy is an inadequate parent and a little girl needs a mama or I'll damage her irreparably." Zuko glances across at Izumi – dress bloodied, leggings muddied, the abrasions on her hands from falling, the streak of blood on her chin that Sokka had missed while wiping her face. "Maybe they had a point."

"Hey, no. No. They absolutely did not have a point. You're doing a fantastic job with Izumi. Really." Sokka has turned in his seat to face Zuko. "She's a great kid, and you're an amazing dad. The fact that you're doing this well with her when you're a young parent and doing it pretty much on your own? It's incredible, Zuko. Seriously."

Zuko can't meet his eyes. "Doesn't often feel like that," he mumbles. "And I'm not really doing it alone – I've always had Uncle, and you've heard Izumi talk about all of her aunties–"

"None of that means anything if you're doing a bad job. But you're not. You want a sneak preview of her end-of-term report? It's all about how she's a smart kid, listens well, on track for meeting all of her milestones on time or ahead of time. That she's socialised incredibly well for a kid who hasn't spent a lot of time around other children, does really well independently or in groups, knows how to make space for herself but always tries to include any kids that are being left out. That you've done an amazing job with her, and you clearly care about her so much."

When Zuko can bring himself to glance up from watching Izumi, on the floor across the room as she shows a younger boy how to stack the bricks together, Sokka's gaze is so soft it hurts.

"I don't know how to say it in a way that'll make you believe me," Sokka says, and just for a moment his hand brushes Zuko's knee. "But really. You're doing better than okay."

"Well," Zuko manages. "You've got the rest of the year to convince me. But only if you let me convince you that you're an incredible teacher, and that whatever kid gets you as an uncle is going to be so lucky."

Sokka's smile is blinding. "Oh, I'll convince you, don't you worry about that. I have the greatest means of persuasion possible at my disposal–" Zuko very nearly says What, that smile? Those dimples? and is very glad he doesn't when Sokka follows up with "–your own kid. If anyone can convince you, it's gotta be her, right?"

Zuko opens his mouth to respond – with what, he doesn't know – when a nurse sticks her head out of one of the consultation rooms and calls for Izumi.

---

Sokka is such an idiot. He is a damn fool. He's been trying so hard to keep it professional, all through the tea and the increasingly not-about-Izumi chats and the way Zuko is starting to open up to him, and apparently all it takes is him being vulnerable for Sokka to drop every last defence.

Spirits, Sokka is weak for long rambling conversations and vulnerabilities and the way life is always just a little bit messy around the edges. Sitting in the corner of a sterile clinic waiting room isn't exactly on the same level as talking about masculinity and misogyny with Suki, sprawled out across the mats in her old training centre, or standing on an ice-bridge in the North under a midnight sun as Yue sobs into his shoulder about how she doesn't think her father will ever accept her wanting to leave and see the world–

But those relationships were then. Sokka has worked out most of his masculinity shit since then, and his on-again-off-again relationship with Suki, through long-distance and university, is now and will remain forever off. Yue's little white lies about how experiences outside of the North will make her a better wife for when Arnook chooses his successor – which had gradually turned into Yue becoming a better chief in and of herself, as the old hierarchy of the North started to see sense – has become Yue building an entire life for herself in a world she never thought she'd get to see.

That was then, and this is now, and Zuko is here.

And Sokka is going to have to try really, really, hard to keep a hold on anything soft and sappy and emotional, because this man is making it damn difficult.

Although, you know what? It's been a good long three months, nearly four, since Sokka's initial Oh no, he's cute, and it's taken him this long to fall hard beyond just panicking about Zuko being pretty. That's not too bad, at least for Sokka's track record.

He's doing much better than before, as his whirlwind courtship of Yue could tell you. All the way from adoration at first sight to talking about elopement, all during the one brief summer of Katara's northern training. Spirits, teenage Sokka had been a mess. Four months to admit that this maybe has the potential to be more than just a distracting crush on a pretty boy? Actually not all that bad.

"You're Izumi's father, correct?" the nurse asks, clicking through records as Zuko scoops her up and drops her onto the examination table. "Can you or your–" He gaze flicks between them for a moment. "–or your partner explain what happened?"

Partner. Teenage Sokka may have been a mess, but he doesn’t think grown adult Sokka is much better.

And Zuko had looked ridiculously embarrassed when that had come up last time – hopefully not because it's a concept that horrifies him – so Sokka jumps in. "Oh, no, I'm actually her teacher–"

"We were just leaving school when it happened," Zuko adds. "Sokka handled the preliminary first-aid before we came here." He runs through what he'd told Sokka about the fall.

"The nosebleed stopped after around ten minutes," Sokka says, trying to sound business-like and not like he's getting distracted by Zuko's arms as he shrugs off his jacket and sits down next to Izumi. "A few small abrasions on her hands and knees from falling, but I couldn't see or feel any bumps on her head. Couldn't see any signs of a concussion, either, and she hasn't started bleeding again since it stopped – have you, kiddo?" He hooks Izumi's wrist with one finger to tug her hand down away from her nose again. The dried blood must be itching, but the longer she can leave it the better it'll heal.

"You did the right thing in getting her checked out," the nurse says, leaning over to shine a light in her eyes. "Did the ice sneak up on you, honey? Make you go splat?"

"Splat!" Izumi agrees, holding out her scuffed hands for inspection, then, wide-eyed, "There was loads of blood."

Zuko grimaces. "It looked worse than it was, fireflake. The snow soaked it all up, made it look like there was lots, but there wasn't. Promise."

The examination concludes with the result that no, Izumi appears completely fine, the nosebleed coming more easily than it normally would with how cold and dry it's been, with the usual caveats about vomiting, dizziness, and so on. On the walk back out to the car, Zuko – seemingly with a great deal of trepidation – lets Izumi skip ahead without a deathgrip on her hand the entire time.

"Sorry about everyone just...presuming stuff," he says in a low voice. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable – you could have waited out in the car."

"It's not a problem," Sokka insists. "And it didn't make me uncomfortable. I only corrected her because I could tell it bothered you at the front desk."

"I just didn't want you to feel–" Zuko exhales, almost laughing. "Well. Whatever. Did you see her checking if I was wearing a necklace under my coat?"

Sokka hadn't, and he's damn glad of it, because he's not sure he would have coped if he thought the nurse had been weighing up whether to say husband.

"More fool her on that one," he says instead of any of that. "Necklaces are a Northern thing. We do courtship gifts instead."

The car-ride is mostly spent in conversation with Izumi, Zuko trying to explain how the blood soaking into the snow made it look like there was more of it – concluding in a promise to do experiments and demonstrations with tissues and water back at the teashop – and interspersing it with directions for Sokka driving. It's a good thing he has to keep his eyes on the road.

Once they've pulled up outside the shop, Izumi running inside without a single glance back, Zuko lingers outside by the car.

"Thank you," he says. "For everything. For helping, and for driving us, and– I don't know what I'd have done without you."

"You'd have been fine," Sokka insists. "I helped, sure, and you'd have been out of pocket for a taxi, but you would have been fine. You're a good dad. You're not going to mess this up. I swear."

It's really not fair, the ease with which Zuko flushes when he's self-conscious. It does stupid things to Sokka's insides.

"Maybe I would have been fine with handling Izumi," he says. "But. You helped me keep it together, I suppose. Keep me calm. I… I guess I spiral sometimes. It means a lot to have someone who can help with that."

"That's good," Sokka manages, because oh, hello emotion, punching him right in the gut. Not the time, thanks. "And… Okay. So you remember I mentioned my sister?" He doesn't even realise what he's about to say until he's saying it. "She's younger than me by a year, and she's kind of been freaking out about being a young mother. It was her decision to do this, because it fits with what she and Aang want from their lives, but she's still been really anxious about it."

"Should you be telling me about your sister?"

"She won't mind," Sokka says. "But– Listen, Zuko. When she was pestering me for reassurance, because that's what big brothers are for, I had to tell her that of all the reasons to be stressing out over a kid being on the way, her age shouldn't be one of them – because I know a guy at my school, the youngest parent there, and he's one of the best parents I've seen." Zuko is staring at him, eyes wide, and Sokka manages a shrug. "I wasn't lying just to reassure her, before you accuse me of that. You're an amazing dad, and you're absolutely killing it at this parenting thing, and I will spend the rest of the school year trying to convince you of it. Okay?"

"Okay," Zuko murmurs with a small embarrassed smile, blushing dark, and Sokka revels in his tiny victory before Zuko looks off to one side, towards the shop. "Ah, shit, I've got to– I need to get going." He glances back up at Sokka, eyes bright, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet like he sometimes does when he's waiting for Izumi. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Sokka manages. "Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow. Looking forward to it."

Zuko flashes another smile up at him then turns on his heel and heads into the shop, and Sokka stares after him for a moment before turning on his heel and almost walking straight into his car.

Looking forward to it. Tui and La, he's a disaster. Suki is going to revel in this.

And he absolutely does not imagine, not for one moment, Zuko rocking just a little bit further forward, leaning up just slightly, and pressing his lips to Sokka's cheek.

---

"Why didn't you kiss him?!" Jin almost shrieks as he steps through the door, and Zuko grimaces and side-eyes where Izumi had disappeared through the back door to the stairs with Song, presumably to go get changed. "You were having a moment! You were so close!"

"Any moment we might have been having was absolutely ruined by you pulling faces at me through the window," Zuko snaps back. "And also by, oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that I look an absolute mess. If I'm going to make any sort of first move, it's not going to be when I'm looking like this."

"Like what?" Jin looks him over. "Okay, the blood on the shirt is a bit much, but you mostly just look...rugged. Your hair looks good like that, you should do it more often."

"I have never looked rugged in my life," Zuko says tiredly. "And also, no."

"No to what?"

"To all of it. To the general concept of… No."

Jin hums. "Fine. At least you admitted you were having a moment, though. Spirits, you should have turned around and seen the way he was looking at you as you left – didn't even notice me standing here. You don't need any more confirmation that he's into you."

"Not yet," Zuko reminds her, heading for the back stairs. "I told you. If I'm doing this, it's at the end of the school year."

"If you last that long," Jin says from behind him. "And I have two weeks of dish-washing on the line that says you won't."

Azula's call that night is early enough that Izumi can make it, cross-legged in Zuko's lap, and it probably does wonders for Azula's blood pressure that Izumi's cheerful opening line is I went to see doctors today!

Her jaw clenches, eyes narrowing, and Zuko is sure that she would be cursing him out right now if it wasn't for the kid in his lap. "Did you, Izumi?"

"Got blood everywhere!" she says enthusiastically, and Zuko cringes.

"You slipped on the ice, didn't you, fireflake?" he says hastily, before she can unknowingly dig her papa's hole any deeper. "Slipped and bumped your nose and it bled a little bit."

"A lotta bit," she corrects him immediately, gesturing expansively at Azula. "Loads of blood! I got it all over snow, and my dress, and papa, and Sokka–"

Well, Azula's never going to let that one go, is she? She's eyeing the screen with a look that definitely says Zuko will be having some questions to answer once there's not an impressionable child on the call – what was he supposed to do, tell Azula about a slip on the ice so that she could threaten to melt it all or something?

...actually, yes, that's probably exactly what she expected him to do.

At least the fact that Izumi seems hell-bent on spending the rest of the call excitedly telling Azula all about how cool Sokka is – and how he's going to make Zuko take her to the South Pole to ride otter-penguins – all means that Azula will have two things to interrogate him about later.

Chapter Text

It's been nearly three weeks since the incident – carefully never mentioned again – and it's the end of term before the winter solstice the following week. Literally the last day. Zuko has no idea where the time has gone.

Izumi fidgets through morning meditation, then he waves her off downstairs to go have breakfast with Song – a treat for her last day – while he showers. There was a nightmare last night, something just on the edge of memory, and he'd woken up uncomfortably sweaty. Probably just a manifestation of the stress of thinking about this being the last day. He's never had such a tangible reminder of the passing of time before.

Zuko steps out of the shower, twisting his hair up into a towel, and reaches for his phone for the first time this morning. App notifications; a sunrise photo from Uncle in Ba Sing Se (one last morning in this great city, nephew – I hope I will be back in time to pick Izumi up from school and surprise her!); a text from Jin at some spiritsforsaken hour in the morning, telling him it's his last chance to make a good impression on Sokka before the two-week break; a handful of news notifications about a minor earthquake in the Fire Nation, a bunch of young Air Nomads and local activists chaining themselves to trees in the woods near Gaipan in protest of potential expansion of the town (has Sokka ever mentioned his brother-in-law's name?), some fluff piece about all the ways the nations are preparing for solstice festivities–

Zuko stares at his phone for a long moment. Clicks on the article, reads half of it, turns his phone off again. Unsuccessfully fights back nausea.

He rinses his mouth out at the sink, gets dressed, twists his hair back into a loose braid at the nape of his neck so it has a chance to dry before he puts it into a topknot. Izumi's lunch is in the fridge, prepped from the night before, her coat in the hallway, and he gets them both before heading downstairs. Jin isn't in yet, and there's a muffled bye-bye, 'zumi! from Song in the kitchen as Izumi comes skipping out to collect her coat and lunch and grab Zuko's hand and tow him out onto the street–

Zuko plasters a smile onto his face as he listens to her rambling about all her plans for the last day, slips into autopilot for the walk, and lets his brain drift.

Izumi doesn't seem to notice anything different. Sokka does.

"Can I talk to you? Privately?" His voice is echoing in his ears, quiet, hollow, and– Is this the first time he's spoken out loud since–?

"I– Yeah. Yeah, sure."

Sokka is worrying his lower lip between his teeth, and it at least gives Zuko something to focus on that isn't the way he still isn't entirely back to himself, the way his brain is rattling around inside his skull, the way he feels a pace behind his body as he follows Sokka into the office.

"Zuko? Is everything– Are you okay?"

He doesn't answer that. He can't answer that.

"What measures do you have in place for making sure that someone can't get in?"

"You mean, someone who shouldn't be here? Stopping them from getting in?"

"Yes."

Distantly, Zuko is sort of impressed with himself, that he's actually capable of speaking in the common tongue to Sokka right now. Last time he got like this – at least, last time he was like this and still verbal – he hadn't been capable of anything besides his first language.

He finds himself focusing on the way Sokka is running his fingers along the edge of his whalebone choker, a nervous tic he hasn't seen before.

"During the school day, people need to be buzzed in, and they need to be expected or with a very good excuse. We keep an eye on people coming in and out of the gate at pick-up and drop-off – but if you want us to take extra precautions, we can keep the gate locked and buzz them in individually. We can keep an even closer eye on Izumi at pick-up than we would normally, if that's what you need. And there's the password system, obviously, that On Ji sorted with you before you started. If it's someone other than you, even if we recognise them, we need them to know the password you assigned. If someone knows the password and you don't want them having access to Izumi, you can change it." He hesitates. "Is that...I mean, like I said. We can put more measures in place, if you think there's a need."

"No, that's– That's good. That's good." Izumi is safe here, he tells himself. She's safe. She is. "What about specific people?"

"Barring specific people from entry? Who– I mean, would they be claiming something that would give them entry, normally?"

"He would be claiming to be Izumi's grandfather," Zuko says quietly, and feels sick at the thought. Izumi doesn't have a grandfather. She doesn't. She has a papa, and an uncle, and a dozen aunties, but not–

"Okay. Okay, that's good to know. Nobody we've met?" Zuko shakes his head. "Alright. A good starting point is a photo of them, if you have one. So everyone knows who they're looking for."

Zuko mutely pulls out his phone. The article is still there, the moment he turns it on, filling the screen.

OZAI PAROLED – MAINTAINS INNOCENCE OF CHILD ABUSE CHARGES

He's there, square in the centre of the screen, adjusting his tie as he strides from the prison gates to the waiting car, smiling at the cameras in a way that turns Zuko's already-empty stomach.

The disgraced heir to the imperial title has been unexpectedly released on parole, seven years after pleading guilty to a range of fraud-related charges and after being found guilty of two counts of child abuse–

It cuts off at the bottom of the screen. Zuko knows that if he scrolls, there's a photo of him aged sixteen, pale and thin with the uneven buzzcut he'd done himself the night before, being rushed into the courthouse by Iroh and security guards. There's speculation on the younger sibling, known to be attending university after four years of being off the press's radar, and on the older, whose whereabouts are currently unknown. There are things he never wants Sokka to read.

He turns the phone around, and Sokka focuses on the screen, reads, glances up wide-eyed–

Sokka has never looked at his scar. Not once. Not ever. He's always looked at Zuko.

Sokka looks up at him, and his eyes immediately refocus on the scar.

There's nothing but bile left in Zuko's stomach now, but he spits it up into the wastebin anyway and tries to think straight.

He's in the office at Izumi's school. He's on his knees, hunched over a wastebin, not sure how he got here. Sokka is crouching in front of him, holding the bin, looking at Zuko again.

"I'm sorry." His voice is small, raspy, accent thicker than usual, and Zuko cringes.

Sokka is watching him, hands gentle, eyes full of something he can't quite identify. "It's okay," he says softly, then brushes one hand against Zuko's where they're both holding the edge of the wastebin, just for a moment. "Not innocent, then?"

Zuko mutely shakes his head and forces himself to stand.

"I should– I need to go. I'll be late for my shift."

"Zuko–" Sokka's fingers touch his wrist lightly, just for a moment. "Tell me if I'm overstepping. Tell me to fuck off, if you like. But– Have you had chance to speak to anyone about this yet? Your uncle, or–"

"Uncle's still in Ba Sing Se on business," he says quietly. "I've not– I only saw it this morning. I came straight here. Izumi needs her last day before the solstice – I wasn't going to ruin it for her."

Sokka gnaws on his lip for a moment longer. "If you want to talk, or just–" He holds out his arms slightly, hesitantly. "–if you want a hug or something, I guess–"

No, Zuko needs to say. No, I need to go to work. No, I just need to stop thinking about this and shut it away. No, I can deal with this on my own. No, I don't need you.

Zuko takes one small faltering step forward and collapses face-first into Sokka's chest.

Strong arms encircle his shoulders, tugging him closer, just the right amount of pressure to squeeze away the breathlessness that's been tight in his chest since the moment he saw the notification.

"It's okay," Sokka murmurs. "Cry if you want, or talk, or whatever. Anything. Whatever you need."

Zuko presses his forehead into Sokka's shoulder, arms wedged up between them and hands fisting into his t-shirt. "I can't let him near Izumi," he whispers. "I can't. But if he finds out–"

"We'll keep her safe," Sokka says fiercely. "We will. You're not doing this alone, Zuko. I've got you, okay? You're not doing this alone. I'm right here."

Zuko lets out the breath he's been holding and with it, the dam breaks.

Sokka's arms tighten around him, and he holds him steady as Zuko falls apart.

---

This was not the last day of term that Sokka had expected.

Zuko entering late, hair messy in a way that would normally have Sokka quietly flustered, but with a hollow emptiness behind his eyes that no amount of pretty could hide.

Zuko pulling him aside, gaze fixed on his mouth in a way that would have had Sokka thinking he was going to ask him out, if it wasn't for the way his hands were almost imperceptibly shaking.

Zuko's request. And then the article.

And now he's here, with Zuko in his arms, but this isn't what he wanted, not for a moment, not like this.

Zuko takes a deep, shuddering breath, and holds it, and it comes out as a sob, and Sokka squeezes him tighter. He isn't all that much taller, but with Zuko scrunched in on himself like this, he can carefully rest his chin on top of his head, then shift until it's his cheek. Zuko's hair is damp against his skin, his shampoo something light and floral.

He aches to cup a hand against the back of his neck, to whisper that it's going to be okay, sweetheart, I've got you, I'm right here, but that's not his place and it's not what Zuko needs, so he settles for rubbing one thumb back and forth across the fabric at his shoulder-blade and otherwise keeping his hands and arms steady.

Zuko cries silently, the only sign being the way Sokka's t-shirt is dampening at the shoulder and the way he shakes under Sokka's hands, and he hates that he has to know that fact in the first place.

Hates that he has to know why.

He'd never questioned it. Any of it.

The vivid scar emblazoned across Zuko's face, disappearing into his hairline and spreading down across his neck to be hidden by the collar of his shirt. The pale faded scars across his exposed arms, too, when the weather had been warmer.

Zuko's desperation to be a good father, his protectiveness over Izumi, the disbelief in his eyes when Sokka says that he's raising her well.

On Ji's queries about Zuko knowing the old imperial script, that he'd brushed aside in favour of more relevant questions.

Sokka had never thought of Zuko as a puzzle that needed to be solved, and he hates that the pieces are coming together despite himself.

He's not sure how long they've been standing here before Zuko sniffs audibly once or twice and lifts his head, and Sokka shifts slightly until they're no longer almost bumping noses.

"Okay?"

"Thank you," Zuko whispers. "For everything. You didn't need to–"

"Hey, listen–" He shifts to hold his upper arms, pulling away from the hug, although Zuko's hands are still fisted into the front of Sokka's shirt. "I told you that I'll always be here to handle shit like this for you and Izumi, and I meant it. She's one of my kids, alright? Every adult in this place will protect her – will protect all the kids. And step one of making sure Izumi is alright is making sure her papa is alright." He squeezes Zuko's arms. "Look, I haven't known you for all that long, but I know you, Zuko. You'll run yourself into the ground trying to take care of everything single-handedly. Let someone else take care of you occasionally, yeah?"

Zuko nods reluctantly, eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, but at least there's some life back in them. Spirits, Sokka doesn't think he's ever seen something as unsettling as his empty gaze earlier that morning.

"Is there anyone else you need us to bar?"

Zuko shrugs. "I don't know who his lackies would be anymore – the worst of them were locked up alongside him. And not released randomly after half a dozen years. Money talks, I guess." He scrubs a hand across his eyes, looking suddenly exhausted. "My uncle is still fine. My coworkers, too. Anyone else–"

"We still have the password system in place, so no-one's going to be able to get near her," Sokka reassures him. "If you can't think of any specific people, that's okay. Although–" He belatedly realises he's still holding Zuko, and lets go to rummage for his phone. "It's probably a good idea for you to have my number directly. We can't always get to the office phone, and if you need to get in touch–"

"Text me so that I've got it," Zuko says, hands only trembling a little now as he inputs his number. "And– You'll get in touch if anything happens, right?"

"Absolutely. One hundred percent. Call one; police. Call two; you. Is that okay?"

"Call three; my lawyer," Zuko says darkly, handing the phone back. "He'd better have a damn good explanation for how this happened without warning."

Sokka lets him use the sink in the corner of the office to splash cold water on his face, and Zuko quietly apologises for ugly-crying into his shoulder.

"It's fine," Sokka says, rummaging in his drawer and pulling out a near-identical blue t-shirt. "We keep spares for when kids inevitably get gross or spill paint on us, it's not a big deal."

He turns around from a quick-change to see Zuko determinedly staring at his feet, flushed crimson, and– Well. At least one thing, in the midst of all this chaos, remains the same.

"Can you not read them?" Zuko asks abruptly, one hand on the door handle, and Sokka blinks at him. "The articles. The news, whatever. I just…"

"I'll avoid them," Sokka says instantly. "All of the news. Just keep me updated on anything I need to know."

"Really?" Zuko looks slightly disbelieving.

"Yes, really. That's your story to tell, not for me to find out through stupid press speculation. Alright?"

Zuko looks so grateful it hurts, then he's gone again. Izumi, busy with her posse of friends in the corner, looks like she hasn't even noticed.

Sokka has to take a moment to gather himself and text Zuko his number before fixing a smile to his face and heading back out onto the floor. Yue is eyeing him curiously, but he's not going to give her anything besides the basics. Like he said, it's Zuko's story to tell.

He remembers seeing the Ozai case in the news, even back down South, but he'd had other things on his mind and had never really paid them much attention. Still, even just the single line he'd read today had been damning enough. And aren't there rules about parole when the criminal hasn't admitted guilt? He's sure that's not how it works. Right? You couldn't just serve a few years, never show any remorse, and then get out after the minimum amount of time?

Money talks, Zuko had said. Yeah. Sounds about right.

It's like he goes through the rest of the day in a haze, and he can only imagine how bad Zuko has it right now. All of his reports are finished, thank the spirits, and all handed out before today, so he doesn't have to do much besides keep some kids in order.

Half of his brain thinks it's barely been a moment before they're buzzing parents in – keeping an extra-close eye on them, because Sokka is damned if he's going to be letting a convicted child abuser anywhere near any of his kids – but the other half thinks this day has lasted a lifetime.

And Zuko still isn't here.

And he still isn't here.

"You're Sokka, right?"

He spins on his heel, stopped in his pacing, but keeps Izumi – happily colouring in the corner – in his periphery.

"Yes?"

Brown hair, green overalls, five-foot-nothing, giving him a definite up-and-down assessment. "Zuko did say to look for the one who looked most stressed."

"He sent you to do pick-up?" He doesn't even realise he's angled himself to block her access to Izumi until he's already done it.

"Yeah. Got caught up in a tea ceremony at work, can't leave once it's started, so he sent me. Says he needs me to tell you ginseng?"

Well. That is the correct password.

"Which one are you? Jin or Song?"

"I'm–"

"Auntie Jin!"

Izumi gloms onto her legs immediately, and Sokka sighs at the realisation that he really needs to get better kid-wrangling skills if keeping her away from people she knows becomes a safety issue. What if Jin hadn't known the password?

He wishes Izumi a happy winter solstice, promises to remember her when they come back in two weeks, nods along as she insists that they have the bead table out in the first week back–

"Oh, and," Jin says as they're leaving. "Zuko asked you to swing by the shop once it's closed – so in a couple of hours? Said he'd text you but he's busy. Apparently you have some things to discuss."

Judging by the look on her face, either Zuko has successfully hidden the news from this morning or she thinks a potential evening teashop date overrides any urgency it might bring.

---

Sokka doesn't dare go home in-between work and meeting Zuko – Suki deserves better than to deal with this mess, and he'll only face an interrogation over what Yue has messaged her about.

Once it's ten minutes past the closing time according to his phone, the next circuit of the block ends with him pulling up in a parking space and cautiously approaching the door of the shop. The blinds are down, but there's light filtering around the edges, and when Sokka knocks the door is immediately answered.

Zuko certainly looks better than he did that morning, a little more life behind the eyes and no longer looking like he's just thrown up, but he still seems exhausted when he sinks into a chair near the window and gestures for Sokka to take the other one.

"Tea ceremony, huh?" he asks for lack of anything better, and Zuko hums.

"Yeah. Not down here, but upstairs – there's a room with good views of the sunset over the city, so we offer evening ceremonies. That's the reason for all–" He gestures vaguely at himself. "All this."

And honestly, Sokka feels bad for noticing it now of all days, but Zuko looks kind of gorgeous in traditional formalwear, striped hakama instead of his usual jeans, hair half-up in an adorned topknot and half loose down his back rather than his normal scraped-back utilitarian style.

"Must be rough, doing that today of all days," he says sympathetically.

"It wasn't too bad," Zuko murmurs. "Everything's so ritualistic that you don't really have to think about it. Can just turn off my brain for a while." There's a small lopsided smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "And no-one's allowed to gossip about news stories during a ceremony, either. That was the worst bit. I was on back-of-house for most of today."

"Your coworkers knew, then?"

"Yeah. I've known them for years. Since–" He's fiddling with a loose thread on his sleeve. "Since before the trial. I was worse then than I am now. Had a few years where–" He looks like he's choosing his words with care. "Where I wasn't exactly an easy person to be around. It feels like barely yesterday that I finally started getting myself back on track, since I actually felt like I was doing okay, but now I just–"

Zuko drops his head onto the table, forehead on folded arms.

"I just want this to be over," he says, muffled. "Izumi is upstairs with the other two, having a girls' night, and I have to hide this from her because she doesn't know any of it. About what happened, about who her family is. It's going to be two weeks of trying to keep her from hearing people gossiping about it, and trying not to have a breakdown where she can see, and– Ugh."

Sokka mirrors him in his sprawl across the table, but rests his chin on folded forearms to watch him. "Have you been able to talk to anyone about it? Your uncle was supposed to be back from his business trip today, right?"

Zuko shakes his head, not lifting it off the table. "Snow storm in Ba Sing Se. All flights grounded. And he barely had a good enough signal to call when he tried at lunch. He's trying to get back as quickly as he can."

"Hell of a day for it."

"Yeah. And I've been emailing my lawyer – he has no idea what happened. He's been pressing for answers, but they're just passing him around and claiming it was someone else's responsibility." He shifts, pillowing his cheek on his arms to stare out between the slats of the blinds. "I'd hoped it wouldn't still be like this after this many years. That the system would be less corrupt, or that he wouldn't have such a hold over them anymore. But I guess I've just got to deal with it now. It's never going to change."

"I can't fix a corrupt court system," Sokka says quietly, and Zuko glances at him. "But I can be here for you and Izumi, in any way I’m able. I promise."

"Thank you," Zuko murmurs, and blinks hard, and Sokka pretends not to notice the glimmer of tears in the moment before Zuko pushes himself up to standing. "Do you want a drink? Food?"

Sokka stands to help but gets ushered back into his seat, and instead waits for Zuko to sit back down with snacks and cups and a teapot. He folds his hands around it, eyes fluttering closed, and breathes deeply, and Sokka just watches for a moment.

"Sometimes I forget you're a firebender," he comments, and Zuko's eyes open just a crack to look at him.

"Really?"

"I mean, I'm kind of an idiot sometimes, in case you hadn't noticed."

That gets a quiet hum of laughter out of Zuko, and he waits until the tea has been poured until he gets back to business.

"Is there anyone else you need to contact about this? Your sister?"

"She has a very specific routine she sticks to." Zuko stares down at his tea. "I texted her earlier. She's hard to read, but I think she's okay. Our friends are keeping an eye on her. We'll talk once Izumi has gone to bed, like usual."

"What about–" Sokka hesitates, drumming his fingers on the table. Is this any of his business? But if Zuko hasn't considered it, then he needs to bring it up. "You mentioned Izumi's other parent, ages ago. That you're in touch but not close. Is there any risk there?"

Zuko glances up at him, seemingly startled. "How do you mean?"

"That it's someone with a connection to you. And someone who possibly knows where Izumi goes to school. Either being in danger or putting you in danger, I'm not sure how much contact you have."

"Shit. You're right. I hadn't even thought–" Zuko runs a hand through his hair. "But it's minimal contact, and Ozai would struggle to– I mean, I don't even know how he'd find out about him–"

He breaks off sharply, glancing up at Sokka, and he doesn't know why– Oh, right. The pronouns.

"Is it worth talking to him just in case?" he asks, deliberately ignoring Zuko's panicked expression. "Does he know about Ozai at all?"

"No," Zuko says after a second, slowly relaxing back into his seat. "I left all of that life behind me when I was sixteen. The only people who know are the ones who knew me when I was younger. I don't know how anyone would ever make the connection, but– He does know. About where Izumi lives and goes to school and stuff. Can I just–"

"Go ahead."

It turns out that Zuko paces while he's on phone calls.

"Hey. Sorry for calling out of the blue– No, this isn't a bootycall, when the fuck have I ever–"

Sokka stifles a laugh behind his hand, and Zuko shoots him a glare, but it looks more amused under a veneer of mild annoyance.

"Look, I know this is coming out of nowhere, but have you seen the news? About Ozai? Yeah. Yeah, he's–" Zuko is chewing one thumbnail as he talks. "He's my father. And I have no idea why he's been allowed out on parole or why my family wasn't told, because he's dangerous. He still is. I'm scared for mine and Izumi's safety, especially since I testified and–"

He breaks off again, listening to something on the other end of the line, and Sokka feels his own phone buzz in his pocket.

Everything good? Yue said some weird shit went down at your work, and I just got back from evening classes and you're still not home. Safety check-in pls

Sokka downs the last of his tea and rapidly texts back, keeping one eye on Zuko pacing in circles and trying not to think about nicely he cleans up with his hair like that, and those clothes–

im all good, shit is indeed going down but im dealing with it, nothing u need to worry about

He pings her his location for good measure and tucks his phone away again.

"Yeah, you're right," Zuko says down the line. "Yeah, I'm not– Not any immediate danger, right. He doesn't know my name anymore, and last he heard I was living in Ba Sing Se. And he doesn't know about Izumi. I think. But if someone's been keeping tabs on me and my uncle and sister this entire time, waiting for him to get out– Yeah, sorry. I wasn't calling just to vent. I just needed you to know. Wipe any mention of me or Izumi off your socials, not that you had many to begin with. Don't talk about her, especially not anything about location– No, I don't think you'd be in danger. I'm more concerned about him using you to track me down, although I don't really know how– Yeah, okay. I'll keep you updated. Thanks. Thanks, you too. I'll let you know. Bye."

He drops his phone onto the counter and muffles a quiet scream into his hands.

"I hate having to tell people about it. About him. I hate it. People know, and then they get all weird–"

"Sorry if I got all weird," Sokka says quietly.

"You did a little," Zuko mumbles. "But I was in a fucking state this morning, so I can't blame you. It's not like you found out and suddenly started treating me like I was made of glass." He glances up at Sokka between his fingers. "You were nice to me before you found out. So. It's not as bad."

Sokka lets him drop that line of conversation, but the new one probably isn't a whole lot better. "So. On the phone, that was–?"

"Izumi's biological father," Zuko says quietly, like he's not sure of the response he'll get, and Sokka just hums and smiles and pours him another cup of tea.

"It's cool that you're still in contact, even if he's not really part of Izumi's life very much."

A little of the tension drains out of Zuko's shoulders as he sits. "I– Yeah. Not much contact, and no legal ties, but I send updates on how she's doing, and he puts money into a savings account on her birthday. I sent him that photo you took, on the first day."

"They were good photos."

"Mm." There's a moment's silence, then Zuko blurts out, "I'm sorry, I just– I'm so tired of thinking about this today–"

"That's okay! Spirits, I'm surprised you're still awake and on your feet. You must be exhausted."

"I am, but we need to get stuff sorted tonight so I know it's all ready for after the break is over, I feel bad enough making you talk about this now when it's after-hours–"

"It's fine, Zuko, seriously. We can talk more about this over break. We've got each other's numbers – and you don't really think that I don't touch anything work-related for two weeks, do you?"

"You don't have to–" He's tapping his fingers anxiously on the table, and Sokka reaches out to still them.

"Hey, no, c'mon. I told you. I'm here to offer whatever help you need, okay? I said that, and I meant it."

"I don't want to push you into doing something," he says quietly.

"Zuko. Trust me to know my own boundaries, alright? Ask me if I can do something to help, literally any help that you could want in an ideal world, and trust that I'll tell you if I can't do it."

Boundaries. Ha. Sokka doesn't exactly have many of those. He's always been the first to drop whatever he's doing if someone else needs him.

But Zuko does need him, and it's a small price to pay to make sure he's alright.

Zuko is staring down at their hands on the table. "My uncle doesn't think he'll be able to make it back from Ba Sing Se this weekend. I just– Some sort of distraction. Anything. And I wish it was easier to keep Izumi from overhearing anything. As far as I know, nobody here has made the connection of who me and Uncle are, but it only takes the case being back in the news and one person realising that my scar looks kind of like that one–"

"Tell them your scar is on the other side?" Sokka offers, and gets a little huff of laughter for his trouble, Zuko's fingers twitching under his– Oh. He's still touching Zuko's hand. Not quite holding it, but all he'd have to do is flip it palm-up– His skin is soft and firebender-warm, and he's not pulling away, and Sokka squeezes just a little bit and sees a tiny smile curl at the corner of Zuko's mouth. "I can offer distractions this weekend," he says. "Not sure what, but even if it's just someone to talk to on your lunch break – or I've got paperwork and planning to do, if you don't mind me commandeering a corner table for an entire day. That might work as an Izumi-distraction, too."

Zuko glances up at him, and takes a sip of his tea with his left hand rather than pull his right away from Sokka's touch. "You don't have to upend your entire life just for this, Sokka."

"Nope," he agrees. "I don't. But my housemate has been telling me for months that I should go to a cafe to do my work instead of using the living room floor, and she's been dreading me being home constantly. She'll be genuinely delighted to have me out of the place so her and Yue can have it to themselves. Yeah, my housemate and coworker – I introduced them. Me spending more time somewhere else is better for all of us, honestly."

Zuko opens his mouth to say something right as his phone buzzes on the counter, and he sighs. "That'll be the others telling me it's Izumi's bedtime. I'd better get going."

"Has it really been–?" Huh. It has been that long.

Zuko looks like he's hesitating for a moment, then he flips his hand over and squeezes Sokka's, holding it just for a moment, then pulls his hand free as he stands. "Maybe don't plan anything for tomorrow, but I'll text you?"

Sokka follows suit. "Sounds good."

Zuko lingers at the door, one hand on the handle, and Sokka waits for him to finish whatever internal struggle is written across his face.

"Can I– I mean–" He chews his lip. "You don't have to, but–"

Sokka silently extends his arms, and this time when Zuko flushes pink and steps closer, he slides his arms around Sokka's waist instead.

It's a hug. It's just a hug, spirits, Sokka, get a grip.

Still, it's nicer now that Zuko's not silently sobbing into his shoulder, even if the overall circumstances aren't exactly ideal, and he surreptitiously strokes Zuko's hair a little bit where it's cascading down his back. Judging by the barely concealed laugh buried into his collarbone, it wasn't very surreptitious at all.

It's even softer than it looks, he absolutely doesn't say.

Zuko's arms tighten around his waist for a moment, then he turns his head to one side with a quiet sigh.

"Thank you," he murmurs, and Sokka shivers at the tickle of warm breath on his neck. "For everything. I know you'll only say I could have done it on my own, but… I don't think I could. Not this. Not well, anyway."

Sokka tilts his head and presses his cheek against Zuko's temple, just for a moment. "This seems like the wrong time for another Don't be ridiculous, you're incredible, of course you could cope peptalk."

"I would cope," Zuko mumbles. "But my coping mechanisms are shit. This is probably better for everyone. Especially 'zumi. I know I have the others, but they all knew me before. They all saw how bad I can get – Agni, I was a dick. I like having someone who doesn't know that side of me."

"Good thing you've got me, then," Sokka says almost without thinking, and Zuko smiles into his shoulder.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "It is."

---

Sokka is gone. Izumi is in bed. Jin seems to have taken the hint that this is not the night to pester him about any crushes. He's had another crackly staticky attempt at a call with Uncle.

Zuko makes himself a pot of jasmine – he doesn't trust himself to drink, not tonight, not for a while – and folds himself into a corner of the sofa with a blanket and his laptop.

Time to call Azula.

Her hair is loose, damp from a shower, and it strikes him yet again just how young she looks without makeup.

"How is she?" is the first thing she asks as she picks up the call.

"Izumi's fine. I honestly don't think she even realises anything is wrong – it was the last day of term today, so she's been busy. Over the next couple of weeks…" He sighs. "We'll see. How are you?"

"I have people on speed-dial, Zuzu, no need to fret."

People, she says. Counsellor, psychotherapist, psychiatrist, in-patient unit. Maybe all of the above. He never thought he'd see the day when Azula had more well-adjusted coping mechanisms than him – although Zuko doesn't think he's utilised one good coping mechanism in his life – but after a while she'd ended up approaching therapy and recovery in much the same way as she does everything else. If she's going to do this, then she's going to do it perfectly and she's going to be the best.

Apparently that's a topic that will be brought up in therapy at some point, although not until she's reached a place where it's a significant enough concern to outweigh everything else.

"I'm sure you do have people," Zuko says. "But people on your campus know who you are. I'm a chaotic mess of a human, but at least I'm incognito."

"I'm not going to class," Azula says dismissively. "I had one lecturer who refused to email me the slides, and I told him that it's on his head when the lecture theatre is stormed by the paparazzi. He sent them to me shortly afterwards. Mai and Ty Lee are both picking up books or notes from my classmates if I need them. As far as I'm aware, the press haven't yet learnt where I live."

Their shared house is actually Mai's father's townhouse, that he used to use on business trips before he'd taken over Ozai's businesses and the penthouse suite that came with them. It's not a bad arrangement, and Zuko's never been more grateful for the truly outrageous levels of security that the otherwise unassuming house boasts. He pities any paparazzi that try to harass Mai or Ty Lee for information on their friend, now that their loyalty has been rebuilt around care and respect rather than just plain fear.

"You may be incognito," Azula adds. "But that doesn't mean you're coping any better. Not with Uncle still in Ba Sing Se." She narrows her eyes at the screen, and Zuko holds up his cup.

"It's tea, 'zula. We're fine. I'm not going to say I'm coping well, but–" He hesitates, then briefly outlines the course of the day. Without her signature makeup, Azula's expressions are slightly more readable, and he can spot her responses to exactly the moments he was expecting.

"Well," she says at last. "At least he has some use."

"Don't talk about Sokka like he's a useful object, Azula," Zuko says, but he knows he sounds too resigned for it to really be a protest.

"I don't see why not. Knowing that you have someone sensible keeping an eye on you means that I don't need to bother. At least not to such an extent."

Once upon a time, Azula's defence of what was hers had extended as far as her belongings, her inheritance and her pride. These days it's slightly more expansive and considerably more possessively protective. It would be terrifying if it wasn't, at least over the distance of a screen and with half an ocean between them, rather sweet.

"You're only saying that because Izumi likes him." It's certainly true that Azula's snarky mentions of Sokka have grown considerably less critical since Izumi had spent an entire video call rambling about how cool he was. "And he's not keeping an eye on me. He's just–"

"Just volunteering to drop everything for the next two weeks and come help you?"

"Shut up," Zuko says, muffled by the hands over his face, then parts his hands enough to repeat it for the mic. "Shut up. He's not. I told him not to do that, and he said he wouldn't."

"If you're repeating the conversation accurately, what he actually said was that he would tell you if you were asking too much. My therapist advises me against gambling, but I would put rather a lot down on you never once being refused anything, brother." Azula raises an eyebrow as Zuko muffles swears into the blanket. "Is that really such a bad thing?"

"I don't want someone to just– to just drop everything to help me because I'm having a difficult time! It's not worth it, they shouldn't–"

"You know, you're saying it's not worth it, but your wifi must be a little unstable, because I'm fairly sure that what I'm hearing you say is I'm not worth it. I don't think that's your choice to make, Zuzu."

"This coming from someone who spent fifteen years expecting people to drop everything if she wanted something," Zuko accuses.

"Hm. Low blow, but true. But it's also coming from someone who then spent four years in and out of intensive in-patient therapy learning that when someone offers unconditional affection, it's not a trap or a ploy to gain power over me. If Mai or Ty Lee say they're happy to pick up library books for me, I'm not going to say they must be lying. Why are you so intent on thinking that if someone wants to do something nice for you, it must be because you're secretly pressuring them into it?"

"Have I ever told you," Zuko says, "how much I really hate all the psychobabble you've internalised?"

Azula inspects her nails. "I'm never going to diagnose you or advise you, Zuzu. That would be unethical. I'm just making some observations. You stopped seeing your person in Ba Sing Se, didn't you?"

He'd stopped seeing the man once Izumi was on the way, when he'd sequestered himself away for fear of judgement from anyone outside of his immediate circle, and had never gone back, despite Uncle's heavy hinting. He was an adult, after all, so it couldn't be mandated. But with all the things Sokka and now Azula are saying, about how he treats his duty to Izumi and how he relates that to other people…

That's a problem for another day. It's almost laughably insignificant compared to the current issue.

"Are you scared?" he asks instead, because of all the people in his life who know, nobody but Azula truly knows. "Of whether he'll try to find us?"

"I might be the one whose whereabouts are publicly known," Azula says quietly, almost inaudible, "but I'm not the one who testified and got him convicted."

"No. You were in hospital, with your doctors testifying that he was to blame for your mental state. Don't think either of us are coming out of that one particularly well." Zuko stares down at his cup and wishes it was something stronger, but he'd quietly asked Song to take his soju back to her place for the moment. "I'm hoping that a different legal name will be enough. But I still work for Uncle, so if he makes the connection that he owns the Jasmine Dragon and looks for people connected to the different branches… I've got this on my face. It doesn't matter how much I've changed since I was sixteen. It's not going away."

Azula hums quietly. "Which name is on the birth certificate?"

"This one. Zuko. I'd changed it by then." He flashes her a tired smile. "It's the first thing I thought of, too. But she wouldn't be discoverable that way."

"Hm. Good."

They change the topic for a while, by silent mutual agreement. It's been over a week since they've spoken, since Azula has had essays to write, and she has irritated complaints about the intellectual inferiority and pretentiousness of her classmates to counter Zuko's stories of entitled customers and cute Izumi moments.

For a while, Zuko can almost forget about everything else that's going on.

"Remember what I said," Azula says, right as they agree to sign off for the night. "About at least attempting to take people at face-value when they offer to help you. If you're going to be hopelessly besotted with someone, Zuzu, you could do worse."

"I'm not besotted," Zuko grumbles, determinedly ignoring the rest.

"Of course not," she says indulgently. "And tell Jin that I wish to place my bet on before the spring equinox."

"I thought you said you were advised against gambling."

"I'm not putting any money down, Zuzu, don't worry your dumb little head about it. I only want to make it known that within that timespan, the win is mine."

"I'm not letting you make bets on my love life, Azula–"

She's already gone.

Zuko goes to make another pot of tea, and tries very hard not to be besotted with the memory of Sokka coming this close to holding his hand, or of the feeling of his arms strong around his shoulders, or of how earnestly he'd said you've got me–

Before the spring equinox, huh? Now he's just got to hold out that long purely for the satisfaction.

---

Suki and Yue are both curled up on the sofa when Sokka gets back, flustered in a way that either suggests they were just fighting over the controller or had needed to rapidly halt various NSFW activities when they heard Sokka's key in the door.

"I don't suppose I can just go to bed and leave you two to it?" he asks hopefully, and Suki extracts one arm from the blanket nest to point imperiously at the beanbag chair.

"Absolutely not. Sit."

"Yue, did you tell your girlfriend to stage an intervention?"

"No!" she protests. "No, not once. But we got back and you weren't home, so obviously she asked if anything was going on at work that would make you late–"

"–because obviously we needed to know how long the house was going to be a safe zone–"

Yue flushes dark and shoves her face into the side of Suki's neck, and she pats her head reassuringly.

"I sent you my location," Sokka complains. "Why do I need to explain more?"

"Because– Okay, so Yue isn't explaining a ton because of parent-staff confidentiality, sure, I get that." Suki turns off whatever game they'd been making a token effort at playing, letting the TV flick back to some pointless documentary. "But seriously, Sokka. So you've got your crush, it's adorable, love that for you, and it seems like it's going somewhere. Which is great! And then Yue tells me that you two had a private meeting for half an hour, and then you were all spaced out for the rest of the day? And your safety check-in was, I am told, at the same shop the guy works at." She brandishes her phone at him, and Yue winces.

"In my defence," she adds. "I didn't actually say most of that. But I'm a terrible liar and Suki knows you far too well. It was more along the lines of if this has something to do with his DILF, then I swear and me apparently making very obvious worried faces. And then the same thing again with why is he even at some random teashop, is that where the guy works or something. Sorry."

"You are both," Sokka says, slouching in the beanbag chair in a dignified manner, "the nosiest bastards a man has ever had the misfortune to break up with."

"None of that was a denial." Suki squints at him. "And I know that you weren't at his place for a successful hook-up, because my phone hasn't blown up so much it's killed the charge. And I know you weren't at his place for a successful date either, because you're so smitten with the guy that a chaste kiss on the cheek would probably get the same response at this point. So. Spill."

"Not a hook-up. Not a date." Sokka wants to be mad at the whole you'd be so damn excited at a cheek smooch accusation, but it's not exactly wrong. If it wasn't for the surrounding circumstances, Suki's phone would have been blowing up with he hugged me twice and also held my hand for 0.5 of a second, I think I might cry. Suki looks utterly unimpressed at his denial. "I know. I know. I'd tell you if I could. La knows I don't want to be keeping this all to myself either! But none of it is my secret to tell. There's just...some stuff happening. Personal stuff that's related enough to his kid for me to need to know about it."

"Personal stuff related to us suddenly needing to increase security on the gates with no explanation," Yue murmurs, and Sokka makes a face.

"Yeah. Those sorts of things. And not anything I can talk about with random people, as much as I adore and venerate you both. It's not happening."

"She's your literal coworker." Suki smooshes Yue's cheeks and turns her head to face Sokka, making her collapse into fits of giggles. "Look at her. Your actual literal coworker. Shouldn't she know?"

Sokka blows them both a kiss. "Love you, but no. Not right now, at least. Doesn't matter until after the holidays are over, in which case it might not even matter anymore–" Spirits, he hopes it won't matter anymore by the time the winter break is over. "–and if it does, we can work out how much everyone needs to know. Right now, it's all about how to support the kid, which is why he spoke to me."

Suki stares glumly at her phone. "Oma and Shu, the temptation to look up the employee list for that teashop…"

"Please don't," Yue says, wriggling into her side and planting a kiss on her ear. "Even if it is for the sole purpose of annoying Sokka, if you get too nosy with my job I might be the one to get in trouble for it."

"You say that like Haru would hurt a fly," Sokka scoffs.

Behind him, the credits music of the documentary he's been half-listening to fade out, just in time for And now, the news at ten. Ozai, best known as the younger grandson of the deposed Firelord Sozin, was released on parole early this morning after serving the minimum sentence for charges of bribery, fraud, tax evasion, and what one prosecutor called the most severe case of child abuse ever seen in a celebrity trial. Ozai, who maintains the constitutional right to the honorary title of Prince, has this evening made a press statement from the steps of his home on the outskirts of Republic City–

Sokka scrambles for the remote, almost cracking his head on the coffee table as Suki gapes at him, and hits the power button until the TV flickers off.

"Um," he says, sitting back up to see them both staring. "I promised that I'd not watch or listen to any of the news?"

Yue is nibbling the end of one braid, a nervous tic she hasn't been able to shake since they were kids. "Sokka. I'm putting some pieces together, and I am not liking what I'm seeing."

"Stop putting them together?" he offers weakly.

Suki is staring flatly at him. "I really, really hope you know what you're getting yourself into, Sokka."

"What I'm getting myself into," he says at last, "is helping a kid. That's it. Helping her, and keeping her safe. If that means helping her dad keep her safe from someone powerful, then that's what I need to do. Just… Try not to pry into it too much, okay? I won't talk about it, and I don't want to hear all the press speculation about it – and I certainly don't want to hear what Ozai has to say about it."

"You want us to avoid the news as well?" Yue asks softly. "I'm sure we don't have to, but, well. Even if I haven't been told the details, I still know at least one of the people involved. It feels…"

"Weird?" Suki offers. "Wrong? Gross?"

"Yeah. All of those. Grossly voyeuristic."

"Yeah, you've got a point." Suki sighs, propping her chin on top of Yue's head. "As nosy as I am, it would feel weird as fuck to go straight from Sokka's cute DILF crush to knowing all of–" She gestures vaguely at the TV. "–knowing all of that stuff. About someone I don't even know, where I've just made up a dumb little picture of them in my brain." She glances back at Sokka. "I'm not going to be able to demand that the rest of the girls at work shut up about the news if they're talking about it, but I'll try to avoid it if I can. Y'know?"

"That's all I can really ask for," Sokka agrees. "But, uh, this has been an exhausting day, so is the interrogation over now? Can I go to bed?"

"One last question." Suki points a threatening finger at him until he sits back down. "Did you kiss him?"

Sokka sighs, gets comfortable, and prepares to ramble about how soft and warm Zuko's hand is for the next fifteen minutes. Time to make Suki regret ever asking.

---

Sokka gets a text the next morning before he's even woken up, and he gets a sleepy split-second of thinking about how nice and domestic it would be to get this every morning before abruptly remembering why he's receiving early-morning texts from Zuko.

Hey, I'm really sorry to bother you this early, but if you wanted to come by on my lunch hour it's probably around 2-3. I usually take Izumi to the park but I'd like to have a second person around today, if that makes sense

It was sent a while ago, and Zuko is almost certainly working by now, but Sokka suspects he's also almost certainly checking his phone religiously.

sure, no prob! makes perfect sense, ill get there a bit early so u have more flexibility if thats okay, then i can grab lunch beforehand?

By the time he's finished cleaning his teeth in the shower, Zuko has texted back.

You don't need to bring food, take something from the shop. You're doing me a huge favour that I can't possibly repay you for – at least let me feed you

Sokka can think of a dozen fun double-entendres to answer with, beginning with the fact that Zuko is indeed a damn snack, but settles for thank u, sounds good! meet u there

Not the time, Sokka. Not the time. Read the room.

---

"I know you say you're trying not to flirt right now," Jin says dubiously, peering over Zuko’s shoulder. "But you're making it real hard for a guy who's into you, dropping innuendo like that all over the place."

"Oh, fuck."

Chapter Text

Zuko's spent so long only seeing Sokka in the context of school – or immediately before or after it – that he'd almost stopped considering him in any other context. Some of that was probably a deliberate choice for his own sanity, but it doesn't help much now. Not after he'd spent the entire walk to the park sneaking sideways glances at how the braids at his temple accentuated his jawline, and how the tiny almost-invisible silver studs in his ears had been replaced by hoops in the cartilage and elaborately-beaded dangling earrings from his lobes.

They're sat side-by-side on a bench now, after Zuko had reluctantly allowed Izumi to go and play, telling her that Papa and Sokka have boring grown-up things to talk about, fireflake. Don't go too far and don't talk to anyone – I'm right here, I'll be keeping an eye on you. She's spent enough time trying to insert herself into grown-up conversations between Zuko and Iroh that it doesn't seem very appealing, so she seems perfectly happy amusing herself on the play equipment. Probably only a matter of time until she demands that Zuko come push her on the swings, though.

"Where did fireflake come from, anyway?" Sokka nurses a cup of tea between his hands, the flask sat on the floor between their feet. "It's a cute pet name."

"We gave her a lot of food-related pet names at the beginning," Zuko says. "Especially since we'd decided that we wouldn't be using her name around customers. She got dumpling a lot too, but this is the one that stuck. Helps that it was practically her first food after weaning as well."

Sokka laughs. "Is that one recommended by doctors for potential baby firebenders?"

"It's the one she decided for herself when she started trying to steal my snacks," Zuko says dryly, still scanning the park for anyone who might look out of place. Unfortunately, early afternoon in nice weather on the first day of winter break is a day with a lot of people. "You probably have a lot of questions," he says suddenly. Might as well stop beating around the bush. "I don't know how many of them I can answer, but I can try."

"I mean," Sokka says slowly. "I'm not going to lie. Of course I've got questions. But that doesn't mean you need to answer all of them, or any of them. You don't have to tell me anything besides what you already have, unless it's something that's going to impact the safety of all my kids."

A few feet away, Izumi is trying and failing to do cartwheels in the snow, tumbling into snowdrifts and giggling. Zuko's going to have to take her for a warm shower and new clothes when they get back to the shop, despite her snowsuit.

"I don't really want to talk about what happened when I was younger," he says slowly. "A lot of it isn't my story to tell, anyway. But I left when I was thirteen–" Left. Got kicked out. Was abandoned in the hospital then picked up by Uncle. Same difference. "Me and Uncle ended up travelling around a lot, because he was trying to keep me under-the-radar and hide who I was. That had been one of the conditions of me leaving – that my uncle could take me without a fight so long as we didn't do anything to disrupt his business or reputation. If we did, he would make Uncle fight for custody, and he'd lose. After my cousin died, he'd been manipulated into signing over his share of the inheritance – not that it had been hard, he had never really cared about it – and Ozai could have afforded much better lawyers. And much more corrupt lawyers."

He falls silent as a family gets too close, and Sokka shifts to press their shoulders together just for a moment.

"I didn't know about any of that stuff until later," Zuko adds quietly. "I would have deliberately made trouble to get taken back to him, if I had. I was a messed-up kid. I can't believe my uncle put up with me for as long as he did."

Sokka nudges him and nods over to where Izumi is meticulously demonstrating how to make a snow angel to another child, clumsy in her padded snowsuit, cheeks reddened from the cold.

"I think you can believe it easily enough," he says. "You can put up with a lot when you love your kid."

"Yeah," Zuko murmurs after a second. "I guess I understand a bit better now." He bites his lip and tries not to lean into Sokka where their arms are touching – just barely noticeable pressure through thick coats, but the feeling of him is grounding. "We'd been settled in Ba Sing Se for about a year by the time I was sixteen. Uncle had opened his first teashop, I'd sort of made friends – well, I say friends, Jin and Song had mostly just commandeered the teashop counter to annoy me until I agreed to hang out with them. I was starting to, uh–" It feels weird, talking about this stuff with someone when he doesn't normally like to draw attention to it. "I was starting to try out new names, stuff like that. Nothing permanent or major, but Uncle was being really understanding about it, even though it was all really new to him. And then I threw it all away."

Sokka makes a quizzical little noise from next to him as Zuko pauses, gives up, leans more fully into him. "You don't have to talk about it," he murmurs.

"No. I want to. I've never really talked about it much before. So I just– I'll take a while to get through it. Sorry."

"Take all the time you need." A beat, then, "Hug?"

"Izumi will start asking questions," he says, and Sokka snorts. "But, uh. It's kind of grounding. Having someone here. So–"

"Is this okay?" Sokka's hand settles heavy at the small of his back, out of sight but a solid pressure through all the layers, and Zuko sighs and leans into him a little more, shuffling sideways on the bench.

"Yeah. That's okay. That's good." He exhales, watching his breath crystallise. "All it took was one message from my– from him. One message, the first contact in three years, telling me that I needed to come home and behave myself this time, because it didn't look good for the family to have the eldest child vanish off the face of the earth. It wasn't even because he wanted me home. It's because it looked bad to investors. But I went anyway. And– Well. I really, really shouldn't have done that."

Another trip to the hospital. Azula's breakdown, violence turning on Ozai then Zuko then herself, and her hospitalisation. There had been no way of keeping the authorities out of it this time. No private hospitals and bribable doctors to cover up the situation.

"Stuff happened. More things that aren't mine to tell. But at the end of it all, I was back in Ba Sing Se, back with Uncle, and there was a trial, and I testified, and… And things were okay. I mean, Uncle made me see a therapist. And my coping mechanisms were really shit, but things were getting better. I got loads of legal stuff sorted on my eighteenth birthday, a name change and so on. Things were improving, you know?"

Izumi tumbles into the snow again and loses her hat, and a moment later is back in front of Zuko clutching it.

"Are you still talking about boring grown-up stuff?"

"Yeah, fireflake, we are. Need me to re-do your hair?" She nods, and Zuko hoists her up into his lap and pulls his gloves off with his teeth and pretends not to notice Sokka watching. He finger-combs the snow out of her hair and rebraids it, and Izumi wriggles around until she can see Sokka.

"Why are you talking to papa and not at school?"

"I'm not at school because I'm on break, kid, same as you." Sokka brushes the clumps of snow off her gloves and knees. "But I've got to talk about some boring school stuff with your papa, and I can do it now when we're both not at work, can't I? Then when we go back to school after the solstice, I can get out the beads and the painting and the pretty dressing-up clothes, and I can play with you instead of having all these boring meetings with your papa. Doesn't that sound better?"

Izumi doesn't look convinced, but that might be because Zuko is squishing her hat back onto her head and she's batting at it with clumsy gloved hands. "I want Sokka to come push me on the swings," she demands, wriggling around again to look up at him, and Zuko plants a kiss on her cold nose.

"You have to ask Sokka that, fireflake. It's not up to me."

"I'll push you on the swings once I'm done talking to your papa, 'zumi. Does that sound good?" Sokka sticks out his pinkie finger. "I promise I'll push you on the swings at least once before you have to go back to the shop."

That seems to mollify her enough to solemnly shake his pinkie then slip off Zuko's lap and go back to whatever complicated game she was playing, and Zuko sighs and unzips his coat. The complex firebender game of temperature-modification versus layers is erring on the side of overheating right now.

This isn't intended to mean that when Sokka's hand hesitantly returns to its place on his back, it bypasses his now-loose coat and lands with only a hoodie and shirt between them. But. It happens anyway. Sokka tenses next to him, but Zuko very deliberately forces himself to relax, breathing steady, and leans back into the touch. Sokka still has room to pull away, of course, but– Spirits. It feels good, with his brain adrift like this, to have a human touch to cling onto.

Sokka doesn't pull away after all.

"So," Zuko says after a second. "Izumi. She's the next big thing, really. Which you'd know if you'd done the maths. I was eighteen. It was the five-year anniversary of–" He just about stops himself from touching his cheek, and pretends not to notice Sokka noticing. "It was a trauma anniversary. And, like I said. Bad coping mechanisms. I just needed to stop thinking. To make my brain shut up. Some kid at my school was throwing a party, and I went. It wasn't–" Zuko sighs, tipping his head back to watch the clouds for a moment before bringing Izumi square back into his field of vision. "It wasn't anything bad. I wasn't blind drunk, just a bit tipsy since it was the beginning of the night. There was no– no coercion, no-one under the influence or anything. There was just a cute guy who liked me, and me wanting to stop thinking about things for a while."

"Honestly," Sokka says quietly. "Super valid of you, on that point. I mean, sure, it's not the healthiest coping mechanism in the world for the long-term, but there's far worse." He shifts position again, surely just getting comfortable, but it still means that Zuko is suddenly incredibly aware of the hand at the small of his back.

"Yeah, well. The bad coping skills come back in when– Spirits, this is way too much information."

"You don't have to say anything you're not comfortable with," Sokka reminds him. "But I'm not going to suddenly flip out on you over it. I know full well that we're talking about how your kid happened."

"Yeah, I know. Just, uh– Let's just say that eighteen-year-old Zuko was far more optimistic about the contraceptive properties of hormones than he should have been." He finishes the sentence from behind his hands, peeking out between his fingers to keep an eye on where Izumi is lining up for the slide with the other kids.

"Oops," Sokka murmurs. "I would say well, that's shit, but you did end up with an awesome kid of out it–"

"But it definitely was shit," Zuko agrees. "I was a mess. I had to get in touch with some guy I'd met once and tell him that I was keeping her." He cringes at the memory. "I mean, he took it okay once I made it clear that I didn't blame him for taking my word that it would all be fine. Told him I wouldn't be coming after him for money, and that I wouldn't be putting his name on the birth certificate. No legal ties whatsoever. With my family background, I was not going to be giving some random guy any sort of legal claim to my child if I could help it. He was fine with that. I wanted to stay in touch for things like medical history, and he wanted at least a couple of updates per year on how she was doing. I'll explain things to her as she gets older, and we've agreed that if she wants to meet him she can – but he's not her father. Just a sperm donor, I guess. Which we were both fine with."

"Still," Sokka says, and shifts his hand slightly in a way that probably shouldn't feel like reassurance but does. "That's a lot to deal with."

"Yeah. I had Uncle, and my friends, and my sister–" Well, sometimes. Azula was only sixteen, going on seventeen, and still in and out of hospital, but they were rebuilding their relationship pretty well by that point. "–so really the main issue was that I ended up postponing university until she was older. We all left Ba Sing Se after my sister finished school and started university, and Uncle ended up opening a new branch here. It was a fresh start, away from people who remembered the trial and all the rest."

"That's a hell of a lot," Sokka says at last. "You've done really well to come this far. Seriously, I'm impressed."

And for once, it doesn't sound like a platitude.

"I'm just scared," Zuko murmurs. "That I've come so far, that I've managed to build a family, and now it's all going to get taken away again. He's already taken so much, Sokka."

"I can't promise that everything is going to turn out perfectly." Sokka seems to hesitate for a moment, and Zuko leans into his shoulder a little more and bites the inside of his cheek to keep quiet as Sokka shifts and loops his arm more fully around his waist, hidden under his coat. "But that doesn't mean I can't help the best I can. If you want."

At least attempt to take people at face-value when they offer to help you–

"Thank you," Zuko murmurs, resting his head on Sokka's shoulder for just a moment, and bites his tongue before he can say but you shouldn't or I'm sorry. "That means a lot."

It's nearly the end of his lunch hour, but Sokka manages to push Izumi on the swings for almost ten whole minutes, even if it means they have to sprint back to the shop so Song can take her own break on time, Izumi in fits of giggles between them.

Zuko catches Sokka watching him again as he unwinds his scarf and tries to neaten his hair, and this time he smiles back.

---

He ends up texting Sokka sporadically throughout the afternoon, which he'd never intended to do when they'd exchanged numbers, but somewhere along the way he's gone from actual relevant important updates to...not.

Turns out you don't need to sit here as an Izumi-distraction so she doesn't hear about the case – Song flipped out at a woman gossiping about it for talking about "that sort of disgusting thing" in front of a kid so it seems like it's under control

songs not wrong tho, its really not a case that kids should be hearing about even if theyre not UR kid u know?
do u want to meet on ur lunch break again 2moz btw, saw the news about bss airport still being shut down and know u cant go on break at the same time as the others to have a second pair of eyes so

Izumi says she'd love it if you came because apparently you're better at playing swings than I am
(completely without prompting, I haven't asked her about tomorrow, she asked if you would be coming again while I was getting her changed upstairs)

tell the princess i have never been more honoured in my life
also did u see her telling off that kid who pushed a toddler over, said she was gonna kick his butt, u have raised the most adorable thing i swear

Yeah, she's not actually allowed to say that sort of thing to people but Azula told her to do it, so it's easier for everyone if I just pretend I didn't hear it

Speaking of Azula–

Zuko shoots off a quick text confirming that they're talking tonight like they agreed, even if they don't normally call daily, then gets back to work – still back of house – and tries to ignore distractions.

You haven't met Jin and Song properly yet, have you?

for like 5m? not properly, y?

They've been best friends for a solid half a dozen years at this point and they still haven't figured out that the crush is mutual

oh nooooo how do you cope

I don't
Song is baking and Jin just asked to lick the spoon and Song literally held it up to her mouth instead of giving it to her

Zuko bites his tongue to avoid blurting out a reminder to them that cooking for and feeding someone is an old Fire Nation courtship tradition and goes back to furiously texting Sokka instead.

Agni defend me, she just told Jin that she has a bit of batter on her cheek and wiped it off with her thumb and now they're blushing and refusing to look at each other

agni cant save u from the PINING zuko
idiots-to-lovers slowburn, 500k

What?

never mind
hang on theyve been working together for this long? seriously?? not figured it out?

I know, and Jin thinks she has the right to mock me about MY love life

It's about thirty seconds later, right as Zuko realises what he's said and blanches pale, that his phone buzzes in his pocket again.

lol what does she mock u about?

She asked me on a date once when I was 16 and I was a disaster who gave her a tea coupon after she kissed me, and she's never let me forget it

and now u made the mistake of telling me. big mistake. huge.
also that sounds adorable??

I was not adorable, I was a socially awkward mess

same difference

Zuko's averted one crisis only to run headlong into another.

"What are you blushing at your phone about?"

"Nothing!" Zuko shoves it back in his pocket and turns back to his work.

"Oh, is that what he's called now?"

Zuko refrains from telling Song that she's one to talk, and instead shoots off a quick text to Sokka saying that there's a rush at work and he can't text.

---

It's the end of the day, and Azula still hasn't texted back. It's weird – she normally responds pretty quickly, even if she refuses to take calls during the day. Still, she's the one who calls him at a couple of minutes past their usual time, wearing headphones for once when he picks up.

"Really, Zuzu, one day with your new boytoy and you think you can just skip our calls?"

"He's not my– And you didn't text back earlier!"

Azula waves a dismissive hand. "I had other things to worry about. Is everything under control at your end?"

"Not too bad. We're keeping Izumi from hearing about it just because– Well, it's not the sort of thing you talk about around children. We can tell them to stop."

Azula cocks her head slightly. "Strange to consider it unsuitable for children, when we were children."

One of the stories recounted at the trial, by a private doctor who had been paid off by Ozai at the time, had been about a hand-shaped burn on Zuko's shoulder, from when he was barely five and his flame still hadn't come in but Azula's had. The scar has completely faded by now, but Zuko still doesn't like to think too much about the stories like that – not with Izumi at the age now that Zuko had been, back when things had started getting worse.

"It wasn't suitable for children back then, either," he says dryly. "But anyway. Everything seems to be okay here."

"Not been refused anything, yet, then?"

She's not letting that one go yet, then, and Zuko sighs and skims over what had happened at lunch. Minus the fact that Sokka had, if he'd squinted, put his arm around him. Azula's made it very clear that she thinks he's a sappy idiot who needs to get his act together.

"I'm kind of surprised you told him all of that," Azula says, and Zuko shrugs.

"I wanted to. And not as– as payment or anything, before you ask. I guess I just wanted him to know. And most of it was only filling in the blanks – he'd already picked up a lot just through what was necessary for him to know."

Azula hums, seemingly unconvinced, then glances up past the laptop.

"Well. I've got to go for tonight."

"Not up for talking much tonight?"

"I'm not going to class or any of my societies, Zuzu, so I don't exactly have much to talk about."

"You want to postpone tomorrow night's, then?"

"Leave it scheduled for now. I'll decide later." She twirls a nail file between her fingers, gaze fixed somewhere on the opposite wall. "And text me updates. I might not respond, but I want you to send them anyway, if anything happens."

Zuko remembers, once upon a time, when Azula had been struggling more than she is now, and how the first thing to go had been responses to texts and letters and emails. He'd always figured it made sense, that she withdrew a little when she was going through a rough patch after years of not talking to people about problems. At least she's living with Mai and Ty Lee to keep an eye on her, these days.

"I'll always text," he promises. "Reply whenever you feel up to it."

She rolls her eyes at him being sappy as always, and ends the call with as much a lack of ceremony as ever.

Still, Zuko is still kind of concerned. He'll always be worried about her. She's his little sister.

He shoots off a single quick text to Mai and Ty Lee to ask them to keep an eye on her, secures two promises of doing so, then heads for bed. Sokka hasn't texted again this evening, and he hadn't expected to look forward to it so much.

---

"Do you want meat with this curry?" Suki calls from the kitchen.

"Stupid question!" Sokka yells back. He squints at his lesson plan versus the communal calendar on his phone, grimaces, scribbles out an entire week of planning. "Also, put my portion in the fridge! I'll have it tonight."

He'd eaten yesterday, because 2pm is long past his usual lunchtime, but that had been before Zuko had told him that he'd messed up the pleats on a whole batch of dumplings that morning and had reheated them one-by-one for them to eat sitting on the bench, Sokka scalding his fingertips and Zuko mocking him for his inability to handle spice.

He is absolutely not going to give that up, so a quick midday snack and lunch with Zuko it is.

When he glances up, Suki is stood in the doorway, frowning.

"What?"

"Is this how it's going to be, now?"

Sokka bristles, straightening up. "How what's going to be? Me helping someone out over lunch?"

"Ok, fine, got off on the wrong foot there. But." She sighs. "I just don't want you biting off more than you can chew with this. Obviously I'm only guessing from what I know, but this sounds like it could go off the rails pretty quickly. You're tangentially involving yourself in a huge criminal case, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know." Sokka flops over onto his back, head on the beanbag chair. "But it's like, very all or nothing from what I can tell. There's a very low chance of anything happening, but if it does happen, it could be really bad. But he needs the reassurance, and I'm happy to do that, you know?"

"Do the others know?" Suki nudges him in the shoulder with one foot until he sits up, then she drops down into the chair and lets him put his head back in her lap.

"Mm. No. Too much stress for Katara when she's pregnant, and Aang can't keep a secret from her for the life of him. And if you think I could tell Toph about this without her hunting down a certain Fire National criminal and burying him underground to suffocate…"

"I mean. I'd provide an alibi."

"Honestly, same, but Z– He'd probably get kind of mad that I'd put myself in the firing line, putting any sort of hit out on the guy. Which is a real shame, really, but I've barely got him to agree to let me help out with minor security issues and occasional distractions."

"Well, that answers that question."

"Hm?" Sokka cranes his neck to look up at her.

"Whether someone's taking advantage of your big dumb crush." She pokes him on the nose with each word. "You're hardly subtle, babe. I could have been a real dick to you when you were following me around with those big polar-bear-puppy eyes, and you'd probably never have noticed. That's not a bad thing, generally – it's sweet, how much you're willing to do when you find someone you care about. But just be careful, okay?"

Sokka sticks his tongue out at her. "Yeah, I know. I'm an idiot, you don't have to tell me. But really, that's not what's happening here."

"I trust you," Suki tells him. "Just don't do anything stupid."

---

If Zuko keeps looking at him like that, Sokka is going to do something really stupid. Like try to hold his hand, or say he has pretty eyes.

It's cold enough that he'd pulled out his proper parka, that one he wears back home in the South, and Zuko won't stop sneaking glances at him the whole time they're eating, and gets all soft and sappy when Sokka promises that he'll write to his Gran-gran back home who had made his parka and ask for recommendations for someone in Republic City who would make a parka for a little girl in the proper traditional way.

"It's going to be adorable," he says gleefully to Zuko. "A proper parka is supposed to last for years, so she'd have the same one right up until she hits a growth spurt, so probably as a pre-teen? It's going to be huge on her and she's going to look absolutely precious– Aw, no, princess, I'm not teasing you! Everyone looks nice in a parka."

Izumi picks at the beading and embroidery on his sleeve. "Can papa have a parka?"

"Everyone can have a parka!" And then, because he wants just a little bit of payback, adds, "I think your papa would look very nice in a parka, as well. What do you think?"

It is a very tempting mental image – he's seen Zuko in blue before, but there's something about the idea of him at the Poles, firebender-grumpy in the cold, hood pulled up around his ears and chin buried in the furs–

Zuko is flushed pink and furiously examining the breadroll as he dips it in his soup, and Sokka counts that as a win.

"You like the beads, 'zumi?" he asks, taking pity on Zuko. "You can have all sorts of pictures. What would you have?"

"Otter-penguins," she says immediately, as he knew she would. "An', an', and a turtleduck!"

"Oh, I didn't know you liked turtleducks!"

"Papa likes turtleducks!" Izumi corrects him, then, in a conspiratorially loud whisper, "It's his favourite!"

"Oh, that's nice!" That's absolutely adorable, Tui and La.

"There used to be a turtleduck pond near where I lived when I was little," he says, and Sokka can read between the lines. One place of relative peace and quiet. "And we go to feed the baby turtleducks every spring, don't we, fireflake?"

"Don't give bread to turtleducks," Izumi informs him, waving her breadroll as demonstration. Zuko had made them early that morning with her help – according to his text, kneading bread by hand is great stress relief – and they're actually pretty damn good. "You gotta give them salad, and, and leaves, and apples, and–"

Sokka nods along, amused, and follows up by talking about the otter-penguins back home and feeding them fish.

Oops. He accidentally created a monster who is going to pester Zuko incessantly for a visit to the South. Better not mention the turtle-seals in the North.

"Are you gonna go see them for solstice?" Izumi asks excitedly, clinging to his sleeve as she tows them both over to the swings, and Sokka exchanges a glance with Zuko. They've not talked about this.

"Maybe!" he says. "And if I don't, I can ask my parents and my gran-gran to send pictures, can't I?"

"Solstice is a week from now," Zuko says quietly as Izumi scrambles up onto the swing. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm not deciding that yet," he says. "The tickets aren't refundable, but there's always folks around who are willing to buy last-minute flights back home, so it's not too much of a loss. I don't have to make a decision until day-of."

"You should go home to your family," Zuko insists. "Your sister is expecting, your grandmother is elderly, and I know you've said it's not often you all get to be in the same place at the same time. You don't need to worry about me."

"I'll decide closer to the time," Sokka says firmly, pushing Izumi again as the swing comes back within arm's reach. "Besides, the equinox is more important to us anyway – it's when La, the Ocean, is at their strongest, and with a waterbender in the family it's a super important celebration. The North usually venerates Tui more, so Yue is definitely going home for the solstice–" Yue has more reason than most to venerate Tui, of course, but that's a story for another day, "–and she's bringing her girlfriend to meet the family for the first time, so that's going to be fun. But the solstice for me… I mean, there's a festival, and there's celebrations, but it's not the end of the world if I have to miss it because it's more important that I'm here, helping to keep a kid safe."

"I'm trying to be good about accepting help," Zuko mumbles. "I am. I really am."

Sokka chews his lip. It would be so easy to insist that he's going to stay, and he thinks Zuko would let him if he did, but–

"If you don't want me hanging around during the solstice with your family and want me to go be with mine," he says, "I'll go. I won't argue with you if it's what you think is best. But I'd recommend at least seeing how everything unfolds over the next week, you know?"

"Higher!" Izumi shrieks, and Zuko cringes.

"I don't know if we should–" he mumbles, then glances at Sokka, and he doesn't know what he sees there but Zuko sighs. "Okay, fireflake. Higher we go."

"As the princess demands!" Sokka says with glee, and pushes her just a little bit harder, and Izumi shrieks with laughter. "You know," he adds, more quietly. "I started calling her that before I knew who you were. Is she actually–"

Zuko shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. "I mean. Technically. She could claim a title if she wanted it. Were you ever taught much about everything that went down back then?"

"Not massively, besides the basics. It was a bit of a cautionary tale in the South – what happens when a man goes mad with power. It's why we have an elected chief who can be kicked out of the role if the villages disapprove of his actions."

"Not too far off. The story in the Fire Nation is that Avatar Roku warned the Firelord to stop with his plans for an empire three times – the first as a brother, the second as an old friend, the third as the Avatar. Didn't go so well for Sozin the third time. There's actually a theory in some circles that it wasn't Roku, in the end – that he was in the avatar state and that it was Avatar Kyoshi getting tired of him trying to negotiate. The Avatar spent the rest of his life regretting what he'd done and wishing he'd solved it another way, rather than by killing his best friend. Well. Former best friend."

Sokka watches him, not quite able to read his expression. "What do you think?"

"About the Kyoshi theory?"

"Nah, although it is a fun one. I'll have to ask Suki if she's heard that one – my housemate, she's a Kyoshi Warrior. I mean about whether it should have been solved a different way."

"No," Zuko says, immediately and with such vehemence that Sokka stares at him and almost misses pushing Izumi on her next swing backwards. "No, what he did was the only way to prevent total war. Total annihilation. The plans and strategies found afterwards shows pretty clearly that no amount of nice negotiation would have been enough to dissuade him. Believe me, I grew up surrounded by people who still agree with what Sozin had planned. Complete Fire Nation supremacy and world domination."

"Well, damn," Sokka murmurs. "As much as we all like to pretend that all of that sort of thing is stuck in the past…"

"Yeah. It's not. The family home was basically a compound just outside the city where my grandfather and his cronies could pretend that they hadn't been kicked out of the Fire Nation for condoning and planning… Well. Potential war crimes. Genocide, in some cases. They never denied it – they didn't see anything wrong with it. Their only complaint was that they didn't see why they should lose their jobs over it."

They've been timing their talking to keep the worst of it away from the peak of Izumi's swings, and Sokka makes doubly-sure before he blurts out, "Holy shit."

"Yeah. I know. My grandfather had the title for a few weeks, then the dissolution of the monarchy was announced by the Fire Sages. And I mean, of course he was bitter about it, even if they negotiated to be able to keep the right to an honorary title and the personal wealth of the family. But he felt that the title, the palace, the power, were his Agni-given right. It's not the sort of thing they discuss publicly – bad for business, the realisation that everyone involved is a bigoted old bastard. It's why Ozai doesn't insist on people using his title outside of the family and staff."

"I would never have guessed," Sokka says slowly, trying to pick his words carefully. "That you'd grown up in an environment like that."

"Lots of unlearning needed," Zuko agrees glumly. "My uncle had already been having doubts and had never really had an interest in being the public face of the family, but he left it all behind properly after we lost my cousin. Spent a long time trying to get rid of the indoctrination after he got me out, and the same with my sister." He sighs, digging the toe of his boot into the snow. "I'm honestly surprised I made it out, living like that for so long. I want to keep Izumi as far away from it as possible. Away from the family blood-money, the privilege, the elitism – it's all toxic."

It sounds like it. The villages in the South that had been Sokka's entire world for years had been insular, sure, and not exactly the most diverse except for people moving into the area to be with a partner, but there had never been the idea of superiority attached to that. More just a recognition that the cold wasn't for everyone, and baffled amusement at the complaining of visitors and recent immigrants.

"Does it make it weird?" Zuko asks suddenly, like he's been mulling it over for a while. "That I– You know."

"It doesn't matter what your family–"

"Not that bit. I mean, a little bit that, but, uh–"

Sokka keeps his voice low. "The fact that you're technically Prince Zuko?"

"Ugh. Yes. It's weird, isn't it?"

"Nah. Join the club."

Zuko blinks at him, startled, and Sokka grins and spreads his arms before having to quickly move to push Izumi again.

"Son of the chief! Not that it means much in the South. Not hereditary or anything. But still, I'm not a complete nobody."

"I never meant to imply that you were–"

"Oh, no, no, I know you never– It's just fun, right? That we're both– And Yue, too! Her dad's the Northern chief, and it actually is hereditary up there. Translated, her title is basically Princess. Just a cool coincidence, right?"

"I guess it does make it feel a bit less weird," Zuko murmurs. "Knowing that there's other people just living their lives who technically have titles." An alarm goes on his phone to tell them to start heading back, and on Izumi's next swing he tells her that this is her last push and then she's got until the swing stops.

The entire time that Izumi is frantically trying to keep the swing going and insist to Zuko that it is still moving, honest, all Sokka can think is that Suki is going to mock him to the spirit world and back for having a type.

Chapter Text

Azula doesn't reply to any of his texts today, either, even when he sends her the requisite cute Izumi photo, but she does pick up when he calls. Full make-up and hair done, although he knows she's hardly going to be out and about right now – but it probably makes her feel better.

"Change of scene?" he asks, and Azula shrugs.

"This is easier."

Why her bedroom is easier than downstairs, when the latter has worked perfectly well for years– Still, it's not exactly a normal time, these days. She's still wearing the headphones, too.

Their chat is even shorter than before, Azula mostly asking leading questions to push Zuko into talking even more about Izumi, but this time he cuts her off before she can hang up.

"'zula. I know you have people you can speak to if you're having a hard time right now, but you know you can speak to me too, right?"

"It's nothing you need to worry yourself with," she says dismissively.

"Azula. Come on."

She seems to be choosing her words with care. "I have a– had a routine. Had a life that I had been putting together. Changing that so suddenly is...difficult. It'll all clear up soon enough, of course. This is just an adjustment period."

"Are you sure?" Zuko asks dubiously. "It's a change, sure, but I mean– There's more going on than that."

"Zuzu," she mimics. "Come on. I'm perfectly alright. You'll receive an update once there is one. Until then, my life is going to be disgustingly tedious."

"Alright," he allows. "Just– Know that you can talk to me."

Azula tuts at him. "Oh, Zuzu. Don't you ever follow your own advice?"

Zuko stares at the black screen for a moment and resists the urge to throw it across the room. That's not going to achieve anything. And it'd wake Izumi up.

In the end he reaches for his phone instead.

I'm starting to get worried about my sister. I've been worried about her since this started, I guess, but she's acting strangely and I'm sca

Zuko backspaces the text, throws his phone down onto the couch next to him, and goes to check that Izumi is sleeping soundly instead.

They meet Sokka for lunch again the next day, Izumi insisting that they go see the turtleducks. The pond is further away than their normal park, and there's less of a chance to let Izumi do her own thing while supervised – but Zuko kind of wants a break from the big conversations, and honestly, he feels like they've gone over all the major things. Now he can put those behind him, and focus on–

And focus on Izumi painstakingly explaining everything about turtleducks and their habitats and their eating habits, and Sokka intently listening and making appreciative noises at all the right moments as he kneels next to the pond and looks at the ducks she's pointing out.

"An' that's Flappy, he really really hates Papa and chases him, an' that's Bear an' she always has all the baby ducks an' they follow her an' she lets me pet them, an' that's–"

Honestly, Zuko's kind of impressed that Sokka can keep up with her rambling.

"Are we all just sitting in the snow, then?"

"Papa!" Izumi is bouncing on the spot, and he and Sokka both automatically reach to steady her before she slips on the snow and goes headfirst into the pond. "Papa, do the thing! Do the–!" She waves her hands frantically, and Zuko sighs and carefully guides her to one side.

"I did check," he explains to Sokka, slightly muffled as he tugs his glove off with his teeth. "That this isn't harmful or anything. And they said it isn't, which is good, because–"

Zuko hisses through his teeth as he plunges his hand into the water, through one of the gaps in the ice around the base of the reeds, and then breathes.

His hand begins to glow, just a gentle golden warmth filtering through the ice – not strictly necessary, but Izumi always appreciates the theatrics – and the turtleducks bobbing along in the clear patch of water towards the centre of the pond perk up and begin to untuck themselves from their shells. Next to him, Izumi has her hands clamped over her mouth to stifle the quiet shrieks of excitement – she's learnt the hard way that anything else will scare them off.

A couple of the ducks opt to waddle over the surface of the ice towards the disturbance, and although Zuko is trying not to watch Sokka watching them, he can't help but see the look of absolute glee.

"Can you, like, pet them?"

"Bear likes shell-scratches!" Izumi volunteers instantly, pointing out the turtleduck which is currently scrabbling to get onto the sheet of ice. Zuko takes pity and presses his hand – numb with cold at the surface whilst thrumming with chi through his veins, it's a weird feeling – against the ice until it melts enough to weaken and dip.

He has to pull his hand free after a short while longer, knowing that the temperature difference in the water will last long enough for Izumi to enjoy awake and energetic turtleducks for a while longer, and Sokka immediately pulls off a mitten and holds it out to him.

"Oh, no, I have gloves–"

"Water Tribe mittens are on a whole different level, trust me– Woah." Zuko jerks his hand back from where he'd brushed against Sokka's bare skin, but he grabs his hand back. "Oh, that's weird. You're cold and warm at the same time?"

"My skin's cold," he says weakly, thoroughly distracted by how slender his own fingers look when they're clasped by Sokka's broader hand. "But, uh, I guess my actual body temperature is running hot?"

"Either way, you're literally turning blue under the nails, which can't be healthy even for a firebender, so–" Sokka shoves their joined hands back into his mitten, squishing Zuko's hand into the fur, and then turns back to trying to tempt a turtleduck close enough to scritch at its shell.

Zuko stares dumbfounded, and he's clearly quiet for long enough that Sokka turns around and does a double-take.

"Oh, sorry, I just automatically–"

Zuko tightens his hand as Sokka tries to pull away. "It's alright–"

"It was just kind of instinctive," he says, sheepish. "It's always the go-to way of warming people up, back home."

"It works," Zuko says, almost shocking himself with his boldness, but right now the world is going to shit and there's a little bubble right here, with Izumi giggling at the turtleducks and Sokka's hand warm in his and another snowfall just beginning– His lunchbreak is going to end, and he's going to go back to worrying about Azula and Izumi and everything else, but right here, right now, his daughter is happy and there's a pretty boy holding his hand. "It works. My hand's really warm now. You can keep doing it."

He squeezes Sokka's hand inside the mitten and briefly wishes he could immortalise the way his eyes soften, cheeks flushed dark from the cold or something else, but then Izumi is tugging on Sokka's sleeve and pointing out the old nesting site, and he obediently turns back to her.

Maybe he can't immortalise Sokka's smile, and maybe he can't stay in this worry-free moment forever, but he can do a little bit towards that.

The photo he sneaks of his hand and Sokka's in a single mitten, Sokka's back turned to the camera as he chatters away with Izumi, is sent to Azula to hopefully annoy her into her normal acerbic self, and to Jin and Song in the knowledge that their gossiping will easily take up the rest of the afternoon.

---

In the end, Jin and Song's ranting about Sokka, and their respective dodging of any pointed remarks from Zuko about their own state of affairs, takes up much of the afternoon. The rush of grandparents babysitting over the solstice break doesn't help, either. Or rather it does help, since the whole point is to make sure that Zuko can turn off the parts of his brain that are eternally big brother and protective father and terrified child.

He doesn't manage to get back to his phone – important calls from Uncle, Azula, Jee and his other lawyers and so on, are all set to ring through even if his phone is on silent – until after the end of the work day. There are a handful of texts from Sokka, mostly photos of the turtleducks that he'd taken and the comment that for a kid whose favourite animal wasn't a turtleduck she sure did seem to love them. Another text from Uncle conforming what he'd already suspected, that today's day-long flurry of snow had once again manifested as too much ice in Ba Sing Se to safely fly, at least for the cheaper airlines that Uncle used. He's sure that the private jets of the Upper Ring have been able to fly just fine.

They are saying we should be able to fly again by mid-week, nephew, but I have decided that if I am still stranded by then, I shall take the sleeper train back to the city. It will still be a two-day journey, but after this much time spent waiting for a petal to fall…

He's got into the habit of doing that over text, trailing off as though Zuko has any idea what proverb or metaphor he's supposed to be referencing.

And there are messages in his and Mai and Ty Lee's group chat?

hey babe was zu home when you left for class? just got home to change and she didn't yell hi back

She usually doesn't, let's be honest
Wait, Ty, did you mean to post this here?

oh shit no it's just this was the last time i messaged you on this app so it was top of the list!
i'm so sorry zuko! this is gonna freak him out so much when he sees it?

Just finish the conversation here so he doesn't have to ask for context
And yes, she was home in her room?

i've got a class presentation in 10 so i really gotta dash, you're home soon right? just double-check so i'm not worrying pls babe, text me and i'll see it even if i'm on pres duty

I'll literally be home in fifteen minutes, you can go – I know this one's graded, you can't miss it

Then, only five minutes later – Mai must have speed-walked, for all that she'd been acting nonchalant over text –

Just got home and Azula is here, said she'd been for a walk around the block and you must have just missed her on your way in after dance

pprzzi?!?!?

Shush and do your presentation
And she was all bundled up in a scarf, she was fine
Sorry for this, Zuko

sorry! must have been an absolute rollercoaster, i'm sorry if i ruined your workday! azula is completely fine and just very grumpy that i was panicking over nothing

Zuko sighs and glances around – he must have kept his face relatively schooled and calm, since no-one has been paying him any attention.

You both just took ten years off my life
But thank you for keeping an eye on her, she's been quiet recently and not answering my messages

you know how she deals with things! she's still eating dinner with us and not being too weird, i'm sure she's fine and just coping badly

The chat in question doesn't get used often, because they do generally avoid talking about Azula behind her back – she's a grown adult, Zuko's not going to infantilise her just because of her mental health – but it's pretty much only used to talk about Azula. Anything else goes through the group chat with the four of them.

Zuko calls her that night as planned, and absolutely does not immediately panic when it rings through instead of picking up. Instead, a video call rings back a moment later.

"Why didn't–"

"I'm having to take this on my phone," Azula says, rolling her eyes. That would explain it being blurrier than usual – although either it's got even worse since last time she'd needed to use her front camera for a call, or Zuko needs glasses. Probably the latter. "The mic on my laptop has apparently departed us for the Spirit World. I am tragically bored, Zuzu. Entertain me."

Zuko remembers when they visited Azula in hospital, especially after she'd needed to go from out-patient back in again after set-backs – perfectly content to have them there, but would not be making any effort. Secretly, he thinks that she was actually very glad to have them there and just never knew how to show it. Given that Zuko hadn't exactly been the most talkative either at that point, it had usually fallen to Uncle to keep the conversation going.

On the bright side, being a doting father has really improved Zuko's ability to ramble on at will, and he counts the number of eyerolls and exasperated sighs as he tells her about Izumi and Sokka at the pond as a win.

"As disgustingly sappy as always," Azula murmurs. "She's still alright, then?"

"Yeah. Yeah, she's having the time of her life with Sokka hanging out with us. I don't think she's noticed that I'm quieter than usual or anything."

"Hm. Good. Don't make me fight you. I will, you know."

Zuko grins at her. "I know you will. I'm pretty sure you'd do anything– You've threatened to fight literal spirits to protect 'zumi before. I'm barely even a threat."

A miniscule arch of her brow. "You'd be surprised, I think."

Zuko hesitates, reluctant to ruin the mood, but– "Are you still doing okay? You know I've got to ask."

Azula looks pensive for a moment, which is hardly her usual look – but these are hardly usual circumstances. "Coping. Doing what needs to be done. There's only so much anyone can do to help."

"Yeah," Zuko murmurs. "I get that. Just– There are people to help, right? So call them if you need them."

"I know, Zuzu." Azula taps the side of her phone, making the screen jump slightly. "I have a place on speed-dial, remember? I might end up calling them sooner rather than later, but." She shrugs. "There's not much I can do about that. I'm sure Mai and Ty Lee will keep you updated."

The eyebrow raise is damning.

"Sorry," Zuko mumbles, cringing. Either one of them spilled or Azula just knows. Probably the latter. "I can tell them to stop, but I guess I was just–"

"It's rather sweet, I suppose. Given the circumstances. I'll see what happens."

It's not a long call, but it seems to hold more promise than there has been in the last couple of days.

---

The days turn. Zuko– Well. Zuko copes.

There's a routine, now, texting Sokka at the crack of dawn and knowing not to expect a response, getting something back midmorning with a suggestion of where to go. On day five – midweek, the same day that he gets a call from Uncle confirming that BSS Met Airport still hadn't given the go-ahead for flights and he's going to be on the cross-continental sleeper train for the next couple of days – Sokka presents him with a messily-carved bone turtleduck. Well, presents to Izumi, but he's looking at Zuko as he says that he couldn't sleep well the last couple of nights and needed something to keep busy, and we have way too much clutter around the place as it, so I thought you might like it–

It's a nice distraction from the ongoing calls with Jee and the rest of his team of lawyers, trying to figure out how everything had slipped through the cracks – emails that were meant to be requesting victim's statements before the hearing getting lost in the aether or sent to defunct addresses, no-one apparently realising that a parole hearing was scheduled until after it had already occurred, the fact that Ozai's refusal to admit guilt had somehow never been taken into account. Either every last person in the system is incompetent as all hell, or the corruption goes further than any of them had thought.

But almost everything had been done almost by the book, close enough that it's not going to be enough to appeal the decision, and Jee sounds at his wit's end trying to find a loophole significant enough to call them on.

And Zuko can't do a thing to help.

Instead he focuses on Izumi and on work and on this stupid brief truce that he and Sokka seem to have developed, where he can ask for hugs and where Sokka will casually sling an arm around his waist or wordlessly hold his hand. And on Azula, of course. She might be on the other side of the ocean, but he's always worrying about Azula.

There haven't been any more accidental wrong-chat situations, and Mai and Ty Lee have generally not updated him on anything besides she's fine – but there is the occasional mention of her going out for walks, and she's still not replying to his texts, and he's doing more and more of the talking on their calls, and she hasn't mentioned needing to call her doctors again but he still worries–

Azula had hated being in hospital. He gets it. He would, too. She's since admitted it was necessary, of course, but every time she'd needed to go back after a spell of living with Uncle, the frustration and anger seeping out of her had been palpable. To even suggest that she thought it might be necessary to call them…

Zuko really, really, hopes that all the unexpected and unannounced walks, the lack of contact, are all signs that she's trying to cope in the best way she can. He doesn't think he can handle the alternative again.

"You're on edge," Sokka notes at lunch. "Even more than usual, I mean."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Zuko mumbles, watching Izumi try to navigate the lower rungs of the monkey bars with a handful of other younger kids. "I've been trying to keep it together."

"You have. But, well–" Sokka nudges him and nods down at where Zuko's gloves are in his lap so he can fiddle with the carved turtleduck, entrusted to him by Izumi so she could go and play. "You're distracted enough to not be complaining that your hands are cold, for one – and if you keep that up, you're going to wear all the feathers smooth by the time the hour is up. I spent ages carving them, Zuko, c'mon."

Sokka makes a half-hearted attempt to tug the turtleduck away, hands clumsy in his mittens, but Zuko can't muster up more than a lacklustre smile even for his sake.

"Yeah. Just worried about my sister. I know she gets withdrawn when she's stressed, but even if she never replies to any of my messages, she always replies to ones about Izumi. Even if it's just telling me to pass on her love or something." Not in so many words – this is Azula he's talking about – but he gets the intention behind it. The other type of message bound to get a response when she was going through a rough week had been anything to do with Sokka, just so she could berate Zuko for being too much of a lovelorn sap, but those have been a no-go as well.

"Sisters, huh?" Sokka says sympathetically. "I know I started worrying about Katara the moment she was born, and I don't think I ever stopped. I mean, our relationship has been much less complicated than it sounds like yours has, but she's still your little sister, right?"

"Complicated is an understatement," Zuko grumbles, rubbing one thumb over the shell of the tiny turtleduck. He's not sure if he would necessarily have recognised it as a turtleduck if Sokka hadn't told him so, but still. It's sweet. And apparently a vast improvement on his quality of carving a few years ago – he's promised to dig out an attempt at a fish from when he was a teenager for Zuko to laugh at later. "But we've worked on it, these past few years. I don't want us to backslide – or for her to backslide, I guess."

"Another one of those not your story to tell things?"

"Mm. You could call it that." But it's just been so long since he's had anyone to talk to, and– "No details. But. Uncle got me out, back then, but he didn't get Azula. No souvenirs–" He gestures at his face, and Sokka grimaces. "–but that sort of environment doesn't just leave physical scars, y'know? And, uh. More stuff I can't talk to you about. But she was in a bad place, after. I mean, so was I, but I had Uncle. She had no-one, or at least that's how it felt to her. So now, when she keeps withdrawing and dodging questions and… Ugh."

"You seeing her any time soon?"

"Me and Uncle and 'zumi were meant to be going over to the Caldera for the solstice," he says. "But I'm not sure she's going to want to see us like this." 

"You can go see your friends, though, right? If she wants to join you on outings or go downstairs and see you or whatever, she can do that. And even if not– Well, you're out of the city. Can maybe take a bit of a breather."

Yeah. Zuko can't say that Ozai is right here in this city right now has been doing wonders for his mental health.

"I'll think about it," he promises, and when Sokka tries again to pull the turtleduck away and tuck Zuko's cold hands into his own mittens instead, muttering something about how being a firebender isn't exactly doing much to keep the blood in his fingers, he goes with it and finds he can smile a little bit, if he tries.

---

Azula doesn't call that night.

He knew it was coming, really. The calls have been getting shorter, and it's coming up on a week that she hasn't responded to any of his texts – he wishes their normal contact was over a different platform, really, so he'd know if she'd even seen them.

He's not going to pester Mai or Ty Lee about this. He's not. He'd seen it coming a mile off – and before this they only called once a week anyway, maybe twice if they wanted to gossip over a drink without Izumi rather than their usual call with her perched on Zuko's lap. Azula really isn't the kind of person who's made for regular contact, and the fact that they've kept up a reasonably good remote relationship is kind of incredible. He's not going to chase up one missed call when they'd never even planned to make this a daily thing.

...not until tomorrow, at least.

Instead, he calls Uncle on one of his brief fifteen-minute stops before the train gets going again for its long overnight stretch, while he still has good signal. Zuko lets him ramble on about all the people he's met on his journey so far while he tries to talk himself into admitting that he's scared for Azula, then talks himself out of it again, over and over.

"Tell him next time you call," Sokka says the next day, during a brief moment of conversation while Izumi is running ahead from one lamppost to another. Zuko has bought her better snowboots now, although Sokka keeps having to grab his elbow to keep him steady and mocking him for not buying himself any good snowboots.

He'd grabbed Zuko around the waist once, on a particularly nasty patch of ice, and at least the squeak punched out of him could be attributed to the slip rather than being caught.

"I know I should," he says gloomily. "But it's just going to feel like I'm overreacting. She literally lives with her friends, and I'm freaking out over one missed call?"

"Talking to your uncle about it doesn't mean staging an intervention," Sokka points out, briefly hooking his arm through Zuko's to tug him around a bad patch of black ice that he hadn't even seen. "It can just be talking about your feelings and stuff."

"Uncle's a fixer," Zuko grumbles. "No such thing as venting. Like I said, you two would get along."

"You can vent to me!"

"Sokka, you're literally trying to help solve this right now as we speak."

"Shush, Zuko."

---

The dread has been building all day, which is stupid. Zuko isn't psychic – he and Azula aren't twins so even that old story doesn't hold true.

But that doesn't explain why, when the phone rings, he knows immediately that it's not Azula.

"What's happened?" he says instantly, and hears Mai's familiar sigh on the other end, but it's not immediately followed by the usual Please just stop panicking, Zuko.

"We don't know," is what she says at last, and Zuko's heart plummets.

Azula had been home. But she'd been spending so much time in her room and so much time slipping secretly out of the house for walks and had skipped so many meals by just eating the leftovers a few hours later– They hadn't realised, and now they have no idea when she left, or where–

"Her bag's gone," Ty Lee says, the phone on speaker on their end. "That ratty old sports bag behind the door. And there's stuff missing from her bathroom."

"That's her hospital bag," Zuko says quietly. Izumi has barely gone to bed – he doesn't think he can face her if she comes to see what all the noise is about. "She still keeps it packed, last I heard." It had only taken one unexpected admittance for her to start bringing her own ward-appropriate clothes with her, and only one time of Zuko grabbing clothes she hated for her to pick out her own.

"She was spending a lot of time–" Mai breaks off like she's deciding how to phrase it. "–not on her phone, but flicking onto it and then off again. At least for a while. Less so these last couple of days– But we've barely seen her the last couple–"

"She was talking about calling them," Zuko points out. "And– I can try to call. But unless she's explicitly told them to acknowledge that she's there– She's a grown adult. If she's there voluntarily, and they consider her to be in her right mind, I feel like there's no way of knowing."

"You're gonna call them, though, right? Just to check?" Ty Lee sounds on the verge of tears.

"Yeah. Yeah, first thing in the morning." He can send Izumi downstairs – she'll be so happy to go get breakfast in the shop that she probably won't think twice about Zuko stopping upstairs.

"Zuko, I just– We're so sorry, if we'd only kept a closer eye on her–"

"No, no, it's fine! I mean, shit, it's not fine, but– It's nothing to do with you. Azula has her own ideas of how to deal with this stuff, and–" Zuko tries to slow his pacing before it wakes Izumi. "And sometimes it's not great. I wish she'd rely on me more, or talk to me, or something, but– There's nothing we can do to change that. If she's called them, then she's taking care of herself."

Azula's designated hospital bag isn't the sort of thing she'd ever be caught carrying normally, so add in the fact that she'd been talking about it… Still, Zuko hates that he knows full well the hospital will be unable to give confirmation.

He signs off the call with Mai and Ty Lee and keeps pacing. Brews tea. Meditates. Tries to sleep, he really does, but–

Zuko barely remembers his nightmares, but this one has his chest aching with remembered pain as he jolts awake and claws at the textured scarring across his sternum, so he can guess.

Uncle's call is going to voicemail before Zuko even realises he's dialed, and he can't call Mai or Ty Lee when it'll just descend into needing to comfort each other, and–

"Zuko? What's wrong? It's 3am, I thought you had early nights–"

"Sorry," he whispers into the darkness. "I just– I'm having a bad night, and I didn't realise the time, and– It's fine. Go back to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Zuko, you've clearly been crying, don't you dare hang up on me. Besides, occasional insomniac, remember? I wasn't asleep anyway."

Zuko sits up in the darkness, hugging his knees. He can hear Izumi breathing in the next room, a tiny snore from her slightly stuffy nose, slow and steady.

"Sorry," he says again, because he doesn't know what else to do, and tries to choke back the sudden hiccuped sob.

There's rustling on the other end of the line, and Sokka quietly says, "Hug?"

Zuko laughs wetly. "I wish. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Nope, you clearly sound like absolute shit and you want a hug, so I'm coming over there and you're getting one."

"Sokka, no–"

"Is that a no, I don't want that kind of no or a don't inconvenience yourself kind of no?"

Zuko tucks himself in more tightly, forehead on his knees. "You're asking all the wrong questions for someone who's only known me a few months," he mumbles, and on the other end of the line there's a noise that could be a sigh or a laugh or a hum of agreement.

"That's the second one, then, huh? I'm gonna be there as soon as I've written Suki this note, hang on–"

Sokka hangs up to drive, obviously, and Zuko wanders down the flight of back stairs to unlock them then back up to sit on the sofa, staring into the darkness again. His head hurts in that very particular way of either crying for too long or not long enough, hot pressure behind the eyes, and no amount of meditative breathing is keeping his hands from shaking.

There are familiar footsteps coming up the stairs, and a quiet clatter as the keys he'd left in the door are dropped on the table.

"Zuko? I'm presuming that's you, but this is actually the first time I've been up here and I'm terrified of tripping over stuff, so–"

Zuko silently flicks his fingers at the candles across the room, sending out little darts of flame until there's just enough light to see by without waking Izumi across the hall, and then Sokka is staring at him and–

Shit. Zuko forgot he'd left his sleep shirt back in his room where he'd torn it off to flatten a hand against his chest and convince himself it wasn't still burning. He's pretty sure that in the dim light Sokka can't see the sheer extent of some of this old scarring, spreading across his shoulders and arms and all the places easiest to grab, but the more recent ones still stand out darker against pale skin. The sprawling tangled mess of the lightning scar is stark against the neatly symmetrical crescent scars of his surgery from a couple of years ago, and Sokka is staring–

"Sorry," he says suddenly, standing and trying not to speak too loudly. "I forgot– I'll go put a shirt on, no-one needs to see this mess."

"No, no, I wasn't looking because– You don't look bad, Zuko, you look– Um. You look fine." He can't tell, in this light, if Sokka is blushing. "It's just. Haven't seen a scar like that before. I'm sorry for staring."

"Never seen surgery scars before?" Zuko manages to joke, and it's enough to pull a smile free from Sokka, eyes bright in the candlelight.

"I know what top surgery scars look like, idiot," Sokka laughs quietly, and sinks down onto the sofa and pats the space, waiting for Zuko to slowly sit down again. "I'm not gonna pry, though. Not when you're clearly having a rough time."

Zuko fidgets, and Sokka sits patiently, and he finally blurts out, "Azula's missing."

Sokka stares at him. "What? Zuko–"

"I think she's in hospital," he says, speaking quickly. "She's been before, it's a thing that she needs sometimes, but she's never just vanished and disappeared and checked herself in like this, but what with everything going on–"

Sokka silently extends an arm and Zuko collapses into his side and buries his face in his neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and Sokka hushes him and pulls him closer, and he can't even bring himself to be self-conscious right now. "I'm just so scared, and I can't talk to anyone about it, and I have to keep it together for Izumi but I just don't know if I can–"

"I got you," Sokka says into his hair. "If you need me to take Izumi or watch her downstairs so you can deal with shit up here, I can do that, or I can do park duty with Jin or Song to give you a break?"

"I don't think wallowing in it is gonna do much good," he mumbles.

"Still. We can sort out what you're doing tomorrow, right? Whatever you feel like you need. You don't have to think about that right now."

"I'm spiralling again," Zuko whispers against his skin. "I can already– I'm just so in my fucking head about everything–"

Sokka squeezes him again, hand on his back slipping up to close over the nape of his neck, fingers curling against his scalp. "Tell me how to help."

"This. Just– Just this. While I finish crying it out, I guess. And...talk to me?"

Sokka tells him about growing up in the South and all the kids he looked after, about running around after his dads and pestering them into teaching him how to hunt and fight when he was too young to join any of the hunts with the men. About traveling north with Katara for her bending training and all their adventures on the way, because of course they didn't go straight to the north, not when they ran into a young airbender with his own bison who was away from the temples on his own for the first time, who was willing to take them wherever they wanted to go.

About Yue in the North, and how even though their teenage relationship was sort of a disaster – not least because Sokka was, unfortunately, a guy – he'd still been the one to brainstorm ways to get her out from under her father's thumb. About training with the Kyoshi Warriors and spending a couple of summers travelling with them, and about all the work they did with abuse survivors and shelters and refugees – although he glosses over a lot of that stuff, which is appreciated right now. About how he'd love Zuko to meet Suki, she'd adore him, and Aang and Katara as well next time they were in the city, and he really wants Toph to meet Izumi just because he wants to get the kid into wrestling. About how Zuko needs to come south to show her the otter-penguins and so Sokka can teach her how to throw a boomerang because he's not allowed to teach them that at school, and he can show Zuko all of his old haunts when he was young and lonely and scared of losing his mother to illness and his father to work, and he can take him out in a canoe to show him the Spirit Lights–

Dawn is filtering through the slats of the blinds, and Sokka's arm is slack around his waist, and Zuko thinks he's too damn old to sleep sitting up on the couch anymore, but… Worth it. Maybe. He's still too wrung-out from last night to care.

"Sokka," he whispers, prodding him in the shoulder. "Sokka, you need to wake up, Izumi's gonna be up soon."

Sokka makes a quietly tired noise and squishes his face further into Zuko's bare shoulder. "Mhm, wanna jus'–"

Zuko is not going to think about the fact that Sokka just kissed his collarbone. He's not.

"Sokka, no, c'mon. Wake up–"

Sokka pulls back and blinks blearily up at him, and the smile that spreads across his face is so soft it hurts. "Hey," he whispers. "G'd mornin', sleepyhead."

Okay, add Sokka's morning voice to the list of things that are unfair and need to be dwelt on at length, at least at a time that's less stressful.

Sokka reaches up and brushes a loose strand of hair back behind his ear as Zuko blinks at him, hand lingering on his cheek, then–

"Oh!" Sokka pulls his hand back, voice cracking. "Okay, uh, not actually a dream, hi Zuko–"

"It's okay," Zuko manages, sure that his face is on fire. Metaphorically. "I just, um. Needed to wake you up. Before Izumi gets up."

"Right, right, I'll go, let me just–"

"No–" He catches hold of Sokka's hand without thinking, then quickly drops it again. "No, I mean, you can stay, just. Not asleep. She won't think it's too weird that she woke up and someone has come over."

"You want me to–?"

"Stay," Zuko says again, urgently, and Sokka's eyes soften.

"Yeah. Yeah, I can stay." His eyes scan Zuko again as he pulls him to standing, lingering on his chest– But not just the scars. All the way down to his joggers sitting low on his hips and back up to his shoulders, and then back up to his face where he suddenly jolts and refuses to meet Zuko's eyes. "Sorry," he mumbles. "I, um. Still sleepy. I guess."

"It's okay," Zuko just about manages to say, then, "And it's okay to look at the scar. There's not exactly many like it."

For a moment Sokka looks like he's about to touch, but he gets a hold of himself and just squints at it.

I know, Zuko wants to say. It's ugly as fuck.

"It's like a tiny little sunburst," Sokka murmurs at last, and glances back up with a crooked smile, and Zuko swallows hard and flattens his hand against his chest as though it's going to stop Sokka from seeing how hard his heart is heating. "But you're right. I've never seen–"

"Lightning," he says, and Sokka frowns.

"You said your sister can– Wait."

"Yeah. When I said things were bad, I meant it. But we– We got through it. She got through it. And now I'm just scared that–"

It's all coming rushing back like a punch to the gut, bubbling up from where it's been simmering this whole time under all of Sokka's whispered stories and the grounding weight of his hands and the lightness of the early morning.

"Sorry," he mumbles again, and Sokka steps forward to wrap him in another hug, but there's noise from across the hall and Izumi is shoving her door open and–

Zuko pushes him away again and schools his face into neutrality and then into a smile, and Sokka briefly grimaces at him.

"Papa, I want a sleepover with Sokka!"

Well, that's not the worst response.

"It wasn't a sleepover, fireflake." Zuko crouches down to brush her tangled hair out of her face. "Sokka came over this morning so we could talk about what we were going to do today." Not quite a lie. "I'm gonna take the day off work today and we can do something fun – what do you think?"

"What I think," Sokka says cheerfully from behind him. "Is that I have a special pass to the aquarium that lets little girls in for free, courtesy of being a waterbender's brother. What do you think?"

Zuko leaves Izumi to her excitement about the aquarium and stumbles into the bathroom, grabbing his phone on the way to shoot off a quick text to the shop's group chat to let the others know he was taking a day off. They could put the pieces together and figure out it's something to do with Ozai easily enough, surely.

A trip to the aquarium. Sure. It'd keep Izumi entertained, at least.

Zuko stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, haggard, dark circles under his eyes, and tries to remember how to breathe.

Chapter Text

There's that hollow emptiness behind Zuko's eyes again, and Sokka hates it. It had almost vanished for a little while last night and this morning, and he is not going to think too hard about this morning– Spirits, Zuko is going through a tough time and then he goes ahead and does that?

It had been so close to the handful of dreams he'd had about moments like that. Zuko hovering above him, haloed by soft dawn light filtering through loose hair, hand on his shoulder, whispering for him to get up.

Last time he'd had that dream, damn his brain to the spirit world and back, there had been lips on his cheek, the side of his neck, murmuring that Sokka had better wake up before the kid does so that they won't be disturbed, accompanied by a quiet laugh and light graze of teeth along his collarbone– He'd briefly been disappointed that he'd been woken by his alarm before getting to the good stuff, and then rapidly reconsidered whether he wanted to get to the good stuff when he'd have to look Zuko in the eye in a few hours.

Feels like small fry now compared to having to look Zuko in the eyes for an entire day after almost kissing him this morning. Spirits. Sokka is a disaster, and Zuko really doesn't need his mess of emotions being dumped in his lap in the middle of all of this. His abusive father is out of prison and in the city, all of them just waiting for the other shoe to drop. His sister is missing, and while it sounds like their relationship is complicated to say the least, it's evident that Zuko cares deeply. It's really just a mess.

He can hear Zuko on the phone in the other room as he heads back upstairs after taking Izumi down to eat breakfast, and Zuko comes back through looking exhausted.

"Jee just confirmed that Ozai left the city early this morning," he says quietly. "But that he hadn’t left the family compound until then. So he can't have shown up in the Caldera yesterday or the day before. He's trying to get access to flight records or any sort of evidence of where he's going. I still can't get hold of Uncle to call him, but I've texted him, so. He'll call when he can."

"The hospital? And is Ozai even allowed to travel when he's on parole?"

"Hospital is refusing to confirm or deny whether she's there. As we expected. And apparently he is allowed to travel, just not to have contact with me or Azula or to have any involvement with the business." Zuko finishes braiding his hair and tosses it back over one shoulder, but still ends up fiddling nervously with the end of the braid. "But I refused to update the no-contact list with my new name or to add Izumi to it, so that he didn't know about any of it. But it does mean that he has plausible deniability if he finds us."

There's the sound of Izumi clattering up the stairs and shouting about the aquarium, and Zuko visibly steels himself.

"Thank you," he says quietly, earnestly, something else breaking through the blankness for just a moment. "Just. Thank you for doing this. For being here."

"I'm always going to be here if you need me," Sokka says immediately, instinctively, and only has a moment to see the look that crosses Zuko's face before Izumi barrels into the back of his legs.

---

Sokka's pass, courtesy of Katara doing occasional consultancy work for the big aquarium down near the harbour, gets him and Zuko in at half-price and Izumi for free so long as he calls it a family pass. It makes Zuko all stammery and blushy for a moment as he confirms it, but once they're in the aquarium properly and Izumi has something other than her dad to distract her, he's back in his head again.

Sokka lets him, keeping an eye on the kid and quietly guiding Zuko from one exhibit to the next, and at some point it becomes clear that he's really deep in his head and a quiet offer to just keep his arm permanently looped through Zuko's is accepted with a silent nod.

Somewhere around the jellyfish exhibit, pacing to keep an eye on Izumi as she circles the cylindrical tank in the centre of the room, Zuko quietly says, "It's the solstice in two days."

"Yeah."

"When's your flight?"

Sokka realises he's drumming his fingers on Zuko's arm and tries to still his hand. "In the early hours of the morning tomorrow."

"So, tonight. Basically."

"Yeah." A beat. "When is your uncle's train getting in?"

"Tomorrow lunchtime, if there's no delays," Zuko murmurs. "You can go. It's okay."

"Not when you're like this," Sokka says instantly. "Besides I can get a last-minute–" He flicks his phone open to check for Saturday flights, rolls his eyes at the lack of internet, closes it again. "There's always last-minute flights, and it's a multi-day celebration anyway so it doesn't matter if I'm a day or two later."

Zuko sighs, staring up at the tanks, the brilliant blue light flickering over his face. "You know that I'd have coped if I needed to, this last week."

"But you don't need to. You didn't need to cope alone when you were younger and had your uncle and friends to support you and Izumi, and you don't need to cope alone now."

Zuko silently shifts until he's holding Sokka's hand instead of his arm, and Sokka squeezes his fingers.

"I don't have to be at the airport until midnight, if I'm taking the flight – that's a long time to make a decision. We'll think about it, okay?"

If Izumi notices that her papa and her teacher are holding hands when she circles back around the tank and runs off to the next exhibit, or if she notices that they don't let go for the rest of the morning, she doesn't say anything.

---

They eat lunch at the café deep within the building, surrounded by tanks, Izumi constantly twisting around in her seat to watch the rays and sharks swim by until Zuko chides her that she's going to get indigestion if she doesn't sit still. He's been glancing at his phone all lunch, and Sokka silently reaches out and grabs his hand under the table, and Zuko squeezes back.

He hopes they can do this again someday, without the spectre of all of this hanging over them, maybe holding Zuko's hand because he wants to and not just to ground him, letting Izumi run around without needing to freak out over her being out of sight, being able to just relax…

What he says out loud is, "You should come back when the otter-penguin exhibition is open – or I could show you around. Katara's helped with some work on it, and they've done a lot of consulting with my tribe to make sure it's good. I bet I could get you both in for free."

They're in the lobby when Zuko is apparently close enough to the door that his phone goes haywire and Sokka remembers that he didn't have any internet back there–

"Oh, shit," Zuko whispers, and shoves his phone back in his pocket, blanched pale.

Izumi is busy staring at the fountain just outside, half-frozen and dripping with icicles, and Sokka drags them both closer to keep an eye on her and says quietly, "What is it?"

"Calls. Texts. Voicemails. From everyone. I can't–"

"It's a ten-minute drive if I take the shortcuts," Sokka says. "Dump Izumi downstairs with the girls. You can check everything when we get upstairs. Yeah? Unless you want to quickly check texts now–"

Zuko gives a minute shake of his head. "I can't, not here, I– What if it's–" One hand reaches out, just slightly, and Sokka takes it and reels him into a hug, so that Zuko's voice is barely audible when he whispers, "What if it's bad news?"

Sokka doesn't have an answer to that. He can't.

Zuko doesn't say a word the whole way back in the car, chewing on his thumbnail and staring at his phone facedown in his lap, as Izumi chatters on in the back seat about all the facts from the aquarium as if Sokka and Zuko hadn't been the ones reading the information boards to her. She hadn't been this talkative at the beginning of the week, had she? Either she's suddenly much more comfortable around Sokka now, even though he's been her teacher for months, or she can tell something is wrong and is filling the silence.

Probably the latter. She's a smarter kid than either of them are giving her credit for.

"Can you tell them?" Zuko says quietly as they pull up to the shop, and in the end Sokka pulls Song aside to give her a summary of what he knows as Jin keeps Izumi entertained.

"I knew it was bad," she whispers. "But I didn't know it was–"

"That bad. Yeah."

"Honestly impressed that he's told even one person," Song says darkly. "Vast improvement on teenage Zuko, let me tell you. Bottling everything up until it comes out as screaming and punching flames at walls. Or just straight-up punching walls."

Sokka can't imagine his Zuko ever– But he remembers tension across his shoulders and in his jaw, nervous fiddling and tapping of fingers, hands balled into fists and shoved into pockets, and thinks about how long that sort of tension could be held without snapping.

"He said he had to relearn a lot when he became a dad."

"Understatement of the century," Song says with an eyeroll. "But he really got his act together in just a couple of years once the kid was on the scene. There's still some stuff bottled up in there, I reckon, but he's never going to do anything to scare her."

"No," Sokka says. "No, he's an amazing dad, even if he'll never believe it."

Song eyes him for a second. "He's got good taste. Now go check on him."

"He didn't say that he wanted me to–"

"He will," Song says quietly. "No matter what all the news is. He'll want you there. Now go."

Sokka clatters up the stairs and almost runs straight into Zuko, frozen in the doorway at the top of the stairs like he'd opened his phone as soon as he'd reached the top and then not moved another step.

Actually, that's probably exactly what happened.

"Zuko? Are you al–"

Zuko silently angles the phone towards him, and Sokka sees the long list of notifications, 9+ new voicemails, texts from all the names he recognises – Mai, Ty Lee, Jee – and then. Right there in the middle of his screen.

Azula:
Call me.

"I didn't want to do it without someone here," Zuko whispers. "Without you– I mean, you've kept me grounded all day and I don't think I'd be able to–"

"I'm right here," Sokka says, folding his hands over Zuko's around the phone. "I can put my headphones in and just sit with you if you want privacy."

In the end he does put headphones in but doesn't play anything, since Zuko says Azula will want to make that decision, and then Zuko's hands are shaking as he opens his laptop and makes the call.

Sokka sets his own hand on the sofa between them, palm up in invitation, and Zuko's hand is immediately in his – clammy with sweat, and Sokka isn't a bender but he swears he can feel the chi itching beneath his skin, hot against Sokka's hand.

The call picks up.

Sokka can see the family resemblance the moment she flickers onto the screen, would have seen the family resemblance even if he hadn't recognised her from the photo.

"Azula," Zuko breathes, almost a sob, hand tightening convulsively around Sokka's. He's still shaking.

Azula's eyes flick to one side, and despite looking at a screen and therefore by definition not looking at Sokka, he still feels far too seen.

"This is him, then?"

"This is Sokka – Sokka, this is my– Seriously, Azula, what the fuck happened?"

"Not beating around the bush, then, Zuzu? And haven't you seen all the messages?"

Sokka just about manages to stifle the amused snort, because somehow in all of his fretting about his sister, he'd never mentioned that little gem.

"No, I'm not, Lala. And I saw that you wanted me to call you, so I did."

Sokka doesn't even bother to hide it this time, but Zuko's hand is still shaking in his – out of frame, he notices – so he can't bring himself to be too amused.

Azula looks impeccably put-together at first glance, eyeliner and red lipstick in place just like the photo from the shop and all the others around Zuko's place, but when he squints he can see the way the fine hairs not scraped back into a topknot are frizzing around her head with static. Zuko had mentioned that, hadn't he? When she purses her lips and inspects her nails, her hand is trembling almost imperceptibly.

"Our dearest father decided to pay me a visit."

"What? And you didn't– Azula, you should have told me–"

"No, I shouldn't," she snaps. "Settle down, Zuko, really. Let me talk. The car should be here in less than half an hour."

"The car–" Zuko starts, and Sokka can already tell that he's thinking the worst.

"I requested admittance. They're sending someone to pick me up."

It's like all of the tension has suddenly drained out of Zuko's body, leaving him sagging sideways into Sokka's shoulder, and he automatically loops an arm around his waist to steady him before realising what he's doing.

"Well," Azula says, eyeing them. "That worked out, then."

"Please just tell me what you needed to say," Zuko says, sounding suddenly exhausted. "'zula. Please. What the fuck happened with father?"

"Get comfortable," she tells him, and Zuko stiffens for a second when he seemingly realises how close they are.

"The offer's still open," Sokka says quietly. "For me to stay, or go, or make sure I can't hear. Whatever works."

Zuko chews his lip, glancing between Sokka and the screen, then quietly asks, "Stay?"

"Yeah," Sokka says easily. "Sure, I can stay."

This time when Zuko sinks back against the couch it's into the space beneath Sokka's arm, and he finds that perfect level of pressure that seems to make him unwind and squeezes his shoulders.

"Azula," Zuko says again, glaring at the screen. "Talk."

"If you haven't read your notifications, you won't have seen that he's been re-arrested," she says, and Sokka sighs in relief and feels the tension in Zuko's frame uncoil a little more. "And that Mai's father has been taken into custody."

Zuko sits bolt upright again. "What?"

"Are you going to let me talk, brother dearest, or are you going to continually interrupt me until I need to leave? Ukano was granted ownership and control of the business, but he remained loyal to Ozai – and you know that he takes no interest in Mai's life or friends whatsoever. He quite clearly knew nothing about me besides my parentage and the fact that I lived with his daughter. All of which means that the day after father was paroled, he waited until the other two were out and then arrived to tell me about what a momentous occasion this was and that my father couldn't wait to speak to me, his obedient and prodigious daughter. And then he called."

"Father called you," Zuko says blankly. He's pulled his feet up into the couch, hugging his knees, still staring at the screen. That horrible emptiness is gone from behind his eyes, but he seems to be past the point of emotion by now. Sokka can practically hear his brain whirring.

Azula hums. "You know, he's much less impressive when you realise how useless he is without all that money. He seemed to think I would actually be loyal to him, after all these years and everything that happened. It was easy enough to convince him that it had been Iroh who forced me into hospitalisation and– He's grossly self-centred, Zuzu, I really don't know how I put up with it for so long. You know, he truly seemed to believe that I've spent the last seven years just sitting around, breathlessly waiting for my next order?" The halo of static around her head flares for a second, and as she reaches up to remove a hairgrip there's a flash of electric-blue against the metal.

"So you just...took the call? And talked to him?" Zuko's voice is hollow, and he's leaning even further into Sokka's side now. He shifts around a little, curling the arm around Zuko's shoulders around his waist instead, and squeezes his fingers with the other hand.

"Ukano was right there, Zuko, I'm not entirely sure what else you think I should have done. Lightning would have been a little inappropriate – my therapist would be very disappointed if I chose to resort to violence, don't you think? He told me all about how he'd been in charge of the business all along and had never given up any of the money or control, and I nodded along and told him how very clever he was. I was informed that he would be in touch again at a later date – he never even bothered telling me to hide it. And before he left, Ukano told me that he was planning to keep a closer eye on the security system. For the press, of course. It wouldn't do for them to find out about father."

"And you stopped replying to my texts."

"I hid your contacts. All messages went into a different folder. I had no way of knowing when father would show up, and you remember that he never allowed contact to go unmonitored."

Zuko is drumming his fingers on Sokka's thigh seemingly without noticing, an uneven staccato rhythm that sets his teeth on edge. "You didn't block me."

"Well, then you would have known, wouldn't you, Zuzu? Really, for someone supposedly rather intelligent, you can have the most ridiculous blind spots." Azula sits forward as Zuko bristles. "If he was paying attention to me – the perfect daughter, the obedient one, the one who didn't testify against him in court, the one he'd so carefully groomed to be his perfect successor – then he was spending no time or effort on looking for you."

"You let him contact you–!"

"Would you rather he contact you?"

"Hey, hey–" Sokka tries to pull Zuko back into his seat without being too forceful about it. "Izumi's right downstairs, and I know for a fact that you can hear loud voices from down there, so maybe keep it quiet?"

"Do you think I've forgotten," Azula says, deceptively calm. "How despite everything I did to you when we were children, you would still tell him it was your fault so that you would be the one to take the blow? When everyone – when Uncle, as much as everyone seems to venerate him for being so old and wise and peaceful – thought I was a monster for what I did to you, you were the one who insisted that I was sick and needed help? Do you really think I've forgotten all of that, Zuko?"

"I–" It catches in his throat, almost a sob. "You were my little sister, 'zula. You were just a kid. He hurt you, too."

"You're the only one who ever saw it that way." Azula sits back again, lips pursed. "And if you think for a minute that I could have lived with myself if I had done a single thing to lead him to Izumi–"

"You still took my calls." Zuko curls into Sokka's side again, still shaking almost imperceptibly, and Sokka extracts his hand from his grip for just long enough to grope for the blanket thrown over the back of the couch and pull it over them both.

"I took your calls on headphones, in a private space that was less likely to be bugged – Ukano was always disgustingly fawning, I decided he would be unlikely to risk father's wrath by installing anything in my bedroom – and I never once mentioned your names or relationships or locations."

"You called me Zuzu when we were kids."

"Never around father. He didn't tolerate nicknames. Besides, even if he did realise I was speaking to you, it was hardly enough information to get your actual name, was it?" Zuko makes a quietly disgruntled noise of agreement. "I went out and bought a second phone for calls, later, after I knew my laptop had been left unattended with Ukano for more than a few seconds. It wasn't worth the risk." She frowns. "Father did ask about the walks. But you know he always had a rather ridiculous view of friendship – he didn't question it once when I talked about how I just had to get out of the house, I simply couldn't stand being around Mai and Ty Lee when they were fretting like that– I let him hear what he wanted to hear, naturally. It's not like I then followed up with Because they're talking about my brother and I'm terrified that they're going to let something slip."

"Why didn't you tell someone?" Zuko asks quietly, like he already knows the answer. "Even just contacting you was violating his parole. Why didn't you–"

"And do what, send him back for another few months so they can do it all over again? Don't be ridiculous, Zuzu. As we speak, a hard-drive is on its way to Jee, with multiple duplicates now kept for security, with data on… Oh, all sorts. The bribes paid to government officials out of the company pension funds. All the instructions he's been sending from prison on how to run the business – or should I say, how to continue defrauding the business. And audio recordings of today, of course, when our dearest father took me on a tour of the company headquarters, and when he explained how control of the business would be seceded to me upon my graduation so that he wouldn't have to keep relying on idiotic underlings like Ukano or that disgusting Zhao from before. Like I was completely unquestionably loyal. Like I would be completely content to hand over all autonomy to him." Azula's face twists for a second, like she's struggling to keep from snarling something. "Like he didn't raise the perfect little power-hungry manipulative mini-me. He really should have known better than to teach someone to play his own game, don't you think?"

Sokka is, quite frankly, terrified. And this is Azula after she's already, in Zuko's words, unlearned their childhood?

"You spent all week in contact with him," Zuko whispers. "Just for this?"

"Just for what? Proof that he's corrupted the entire system? Oh, there are some names on that drive, Zuzu. Just you wait. And the list of bribes really is amazingly detailed. Certainly goes back over a decade ago." She purses her lips like she's deciding whether to say something. "There's the name of a man who appears to be a coroner, too. But maybe don't mention that one to Uncle quite yet."

Zuko's breath catches like he's trying to hold back a sob and Sokka tightens his arm around him again, knowing that he's missing some important context and not quite being able to put his finger on what. It's not like he's going to ask, though.

"The point is, brother," Azula says, like she's explaining something to an idiot. "That for a few extra days, I went from being able to get rid of him in the short-term – and likely shortening both of our lifespans once he got out a second time – to being able to get rid of him for much, much longer. I asked to take some time to assess my new office – Ukano's office currently, of course – and just walked straight back out with a hard-drive in my pocket. Our father really is an idiot."

"A few extra days," Zuko says, strangled, sounding closer to the verge of a breakdown than he has all night. "Of knowing that you were being constantly watched and monitored by our father? Of speaking to him?"

"I always did know just what he wanted to hear," Azula says, contemplative. "I've had a lot of practice, after all. And he really did insist on asking all the wrong questions – you know, for all that he seemed to want revenge on you for what you did seven years ago, he never once asked me if I knew where my brother lived?"

The noise Zuko makes, hand over his mouth, is somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

"I told you," Azula says when he doesn't say anything. "I am not going to let anything happen to my niece. I was not going to let that man anywhere near her. Or you, for that matter–" She says it off-hand, like it's an afterthought, but Zuko chokes out a laugh in response. "But really, brother. That girl is our family's fresh start. I'm not even going to call it a second chance, because Agni knows those were all wasted long ago. She's never known what we knew at that age, and she never will. Isn't that worth protecting?"

"Of course it is–" Zuko whispers.

"Then stop arguing with me, Zuzu. Honestly." Azula sighs, sounding exasperated, and when Zuko briefly turns his head to bury his face in Sokka's shoulder, it's to hide an unexpectedly tearful smile.

"Even so, 'zula. That's– You were taking a huge risk. You could have so easily–"

"I know I could. Which is why I called my medical team the very next day after he contacted me and asked if they had a room free, because I suspected I would need it fairly soon. I was right, naturally."

"Naturally," Zuko agrees. "That's– Are they on their way?"

"They'll be here in another minute or so."

Zuko chews his lip for a second, then blurts out, "Do you still want us to come see you for the solstice?"

"I'll be in hospital, Zuko." 

"I know. You didn't answer the question. I know there's a nice garden there, and they pack picnics if you ask, and the Caldera is warmer than it is here."

"But Izumi–"

"–is old enough to understand that her Auntie Zula gets sick sometimes, and might need to spend some time in hospital occasionally. I'm not raising her to think that it's something shameful, Lala. She's going to want to see you – she's been really excited to give you everything she's made."

There's the very edges of a hesitant smile on Azula's lips – the first one Sokka thinks he's seen. "They won't let people have necklaces."

"She's made you so many drawings, 'zula, it's unreal. You won't have enough wall space for them all. She can give you all the beads and jewellery once you're home again."

"Home isn't that house," Azula notes. "Not after this week."

"Home is wherever you three end up making it. Ty Lee has always wanted a crappy studio loft, right?"

That smile is playing around the edges of her mouth again, and she suddenly looks so much younger – so much like when Sokka can catch Zuko off-guard and make him laugh.

"Mai will hate it."

"Mai will do whatever the hell Ty Lee asks if she deploys the polar-bear-puppy eyes, you know that. I hope you're ready for your fire hazard of a string-light-festooned studio loft."

Azula snorts at that, then glances behind her out of the window. "They're here. I'll have to go."

"Alright. That's– Alright. I'll see you in a couple of days." He hesitates, then adds, "Love you, 'zula. And thank you."

Azula scoffs. "You're so sappy, Zuzu. And–" She glances sideways, and Sokka realises she's looking at him for what feels like only the second time that night. "You. Remember this conversation. And do not hurt my brother."

"I would never–" Sokka starts, voice cracking, and Zuko pulls himself free from Sokka's arms and scrambles for the laptop.

"Okay, bye, Lala, see you soon–"

He slams it shut and stares at it for a moment, panting for breath, and then collapses forward, forehead on knees.

"Zuko! Are you–"

"'m okay," he says, muffled. "'m just– Fuck."

"A lot, huh?" Sokka says sympathetically, patting the top of his head. "Today has been a fucking rollercoaster."

Zuko's head moves under his hand in a tiny nod. "Sorry about her," he mumbles.

"Your sister is kind of incredible, you know that?" Sokka smoothes his fly-aways down again, trying not to look like he's just straight-up petting his hair. "Like, don't get me wrong, she's terrifying. I'm very glad she's on your side now. But I really admire the relationship you've been able to build for yourselves, after all that shit from when you were kids."

Zuko pushes himself upright again with a grimace, flopping back against the couch. "I'm exhausted."

"You look it. If I didn't know you'd fallen asleep on my shoulder and drooled all over my shirt last night, I'd think you hadn't slept in a week."

"Thanks for that, Mister Occasional Insomniac." Zuko yawns, scrubbing a hand across his face. "Says me, an actual diagnosed insomniac. It's really fun, when you add in the night terrors and always waking up at dawn. Last night was the best sleep I got in a while." He points an accusatory finger in Sokka's general direction. "Also, says you, when you also drooled on my shoulder but without a shirt in the way."

"Is this your way of not having to think about that conversation again?"

Zuko blinks. "I mean. I think so?"

"Fair enough."

Zuko's phone buzzes on the table and he glares at it for a moment, then ignores all of the previous notifications in favour of the most recent. "Song. Asking for an update and to know what I'm doing with Izumi tonight. Let me just–"

She picks up immediately. "So what's happening?"

"Azula's fine," he says, and slumps into Sokka's side again when he extends one arm. "Ozai has been re-arrested. I'll tell you the whole story later. I just– I'm so tired."

"Izumi is asking if she can have a sleepover," Song says quietly. "Like you did with Sokka last night, apparently." When Sokka glances down, he's turning pink.

"I can take her back, it's fine–"

"You need to go to bed, which she isn't doing for another few hours. We can take her, it's fine. Out for dinner and then back to my place, and I can make up the sofa bed for her – she's slept there before."

"You don't have to," Zuko says, but he's not even attempting to sound convincing.

"Nah, it's fine. We don't mind her third-wheeling. I'm just glad it all worked out for you all, y'know?"

It takes another couple of seconds after Song has hung up for Zuko to stare at his phone. "Wait. Third-wheeling? At her place?"

"Did they finally get their act together after a decade and you missed it?" Sokka asks, mostly rhetorically, and manhandles Zuko toward his bedroom. "Go on and sleep, Zuko, c'mon–"

He turns his back while Zuko sleepily kicks off his jeans and fumbles for pyjamas, then turns back around as a hand touches his wrist.

"Sokka. I know you didn't exactly get much sleep either, and–"

"You want a hug?"

"I want a nap," Zuko complains, burying himself in blankets, and Sokka laughs and goes to leave. "No, really, you– You can stay. If you like. I don't mind, and– And I don't want to wake up alone. Not after–"

"Yeah. Yeah, I can stay."

In the end Sokka clambers under the duvet in just boxers under his hoodie, but Zuko doesn't seem to have any problem with it, so...

"Want me to tell you more stories?" he whispers into the darkness, and feels Zuko's headshake against his neck.

"Shh. Sleep."

If he'd thought Zuko was just the right height to fold into a hug normally, cuddling is even worse. But he just fits so perfectly up against Sokka's chest, worming an arm around his waist and tucking his head under his chin, and– They can think about this later, whatever this is. Right now, Zuko is safe, Zuko's family is safe, and Sokka is exhausted.

---

"Sokka. Hey, wake up."

Sokka groans and buries his face in soft sweet-smelling hair, tightening his arms around the body at his front.

"'m really comfy," he mumbles.

"I know you are, but you gotta wake up, sleepyhead–"

A finger pokes repeatedly at his face, and Sokka bats at it until he has no choice but to peel his eyes open. "'s not dawn," he says stupidly.

"Mm. No. Like, eleven at night? We still napped for about five hours, though."

Zuko worms himself free from Sokka's stubbornly sleepy grasp, and the loss of him is colder than he'd expected. He pulls himself up to sitting, lighting a flame in cupped hands.

"How'd you know the time?"

"Firebender. We can sense the position of the sun, sort of."

Zuko is really, really pretty by firelight.

"Why didn't you realise it was 3am last night?"

Zuko shrugs lopsidedly. "Panic attack?"

"Yeah. That'd do it. Why did you wake me– Oh."

"It's eleven," Zuko says again. "You have time to make your flight. You should go see your family."

Sokka hesitates, sitting up and mirroring Zuko knee-to-knee.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm okay. Or– Well. I'll be okay. Izumi will be back in the morning, and Song and Jin, and Uncle will be here by lunch. And Azula is safe. We're all safe." He extinguishes the flame in one hand to reach out and touch Sokka's. "I want you to go spend the solstice with your family, Sokka. I'll be in Caldera visiting Azula. You said your housemate was going North. All your family will be back home. Just go see them, okay?"

Sokka turns his hand palm-up, interlacing his fingers through Zuko's. Yeah. Things are okay. And if they aren't, they will be soon.

In the end they both drive back to Sokka's place, Suki already gone for the winter, and he haphazardly packs a bag while Zuko leans in the doorway and laughs at his idea of necessities for a week.

Listen, Zuko, you can never be too prepared– Yes, I know it's only a week, but I still– Okay, yes, my parents' place has laundry facilities, obviously, but taking extra pairs of underwear is just common sense–

Not fourteen for less than a week, Sokka! That's how I pack for Izumi, and she's barely potty-trained!

He drops Zuko back at the shop, the lights still on upstairs and filtering through the blinds.

"You sure you're going to be okay?"

"Sokka."

"Sorry. Sorry, I know. I'm an idiot."

"No, you're not. You just care. Too much for your own good, sometimes, but that's okay too." He's lit a flame in one hand between them, flickering in the breeze, and oh, yeah, there's that stupid little brainworm again, chanting about how gorgeous he looks like this, eyes more golden than ever–

"I think I'm just gonna miss talking to you," Sokka confesses before he can lose his nerve. "Just meeting you at lunch, or texting–"

"You're gonna keep texting, though, right? I mean–" Zuko wets his lips nervously, and Sokka tries not to stare. "I mean. You were texting to keep an eye on Izumi, and you don't need to anymore–"

"I want to keep talking. Texting. Whatever. And– I owe Izumi photos of the otter-penguins, right?"

"Yeah." Zuko's smile is bright, uncertain around the edges. "Yeah, you do."

Sokka's heart is about to pound straight out of his chest. Zuko must be able to hear it, in the middle of the silent street, there's no way–

"There's still gonna be a few days before school starts again, when we get back," he says, and almost doesn't know where he's going with this until he says it. "You think you can get another day off work? My pass is for lifelong discounts, and I don't think you were paying close enough attention to all my fun fish facts last time."

"I was kind of distracted," Zuko agrees, ducking his chin with an awkward smile. "But Izumi would love that."

"Yeah, I know. But, uh– Would you like to do that? I mean. With me? Obviously with Izumi, she'd come as well, but I mean–" Sokka tries to straighten his brain out – ha, no, not straighten – and tries to make words happen in the right order. "Do you and Izumi want to come to the aquarium with me again, my treat, and we can do it again properly?"

"Sokka–" The flame in Zuko's hand flickers, and suddenly it's rivetingly interesting and the only thing Sokka can look at. "Sokka, are you asking me to– I mean–"

"You don't have to," he says quickly. "You're not– This isn't me thinking you're obligated to say yes just because I've been helping you, it's just, I've really liked spending all this time with you and Izumi, and I really like you, and I want to do it properly all over again without all the– All the stress and fear and everything– Going places. And talking. And– And holding your hand, I guess, if you want, and I haven't had this whole gross ulterior motive the entire time, I swear, I just really care about you both and I–"

The flame in Zuko's palm flickers and goes out, and Sokka is breathless and alone in the darkness, and then Zuko's now-free hand is twisted into the front of his parka.

"Tell me to stop," Zuko breathes, a soft exhale on his cheek, and Sokka shivers and reaches forward until he finds Zuko's hips. He fits just as perfectly between Sokka's hands as he always thought he would, even through bulky layers of coats – and it's even worse now that he can picture Zuko without the layers, all lithe muscle and slender waist and that gorgeous flush that goes all the way down his chest–

"Never," he says, possibly a moment too late judging by the quiet huff of laughter against his jaw, and then Zuko is shifting back again and adjusting the angle.

They almost miss in the darkness, lips brushing the very corner of his mouth, and Sokka turns his head to kiss him properly, and Zuko melts into his arms and presses another to Sokka's cheek, his jaw, back to his lips.

"Izumi is always going to come first," he murmurs between kisses, lips full and soft, and spirits, so warm.

"Of course she is. Always."

"And I'm an anxious ball of nerves sometimes. A lot of the time. But I'm going to be going back to therapy, I think."

"Do you really think that's gonna scare me off?"

Zuko pulls away and holds a flame beside their heads, eyes soft, lips pink, cheeks flushed, and he's gorgeous–

"I'm kind of a neurotic mess sometimes," Sokka blurts out, because spirits, he has to at least give Zuko a fighting chance before latching onto him. As though he hasn't spent the last week doing exactly that. "And I get clingy if I'm anxious about losing someone, which you've absolutely already noticed, and I definitely need to go back to therapy as well. And– I struggle to make room for people, sometimes. But I can try. I want to try, for you."

"You've already made room for me," Zuko points out, and–

Oh. Yeah. He has.

"I'll make sure to keep it there," Sokka says, and Zuko leans up and kisses him again, a soft brush of lips. "So is that a yes?"

"Yes, I'll go on a date with you after the solstice," Zuko says, blushing, and it's stupid just how much that makes Sokka feel like a kid again – on an ice bridge in the North and imploring Yue to run away with him, tentatively asking Suki for lessons after making a fool of himself. In a doorway in an empty street at midnight, the warmth of Zuko’s fire competing with the heat of his own cheeks. "If you'll let me take you somewhere, too. You, me, Izumi, the turtleduck pond. It's where I always said I'd take a pretty boy on a date one day."

"You mean, what we've been doing for the last week anyway?"

"Shut up," Zuko grumbles. "Go get your flight. Izumi is gonna be mad if you miss it and can't send her otter-penguin pictures."

"Can't disappoint the princess," Sokka agrees, and swoops in for one last kiss, pressing it to Zuko's upturned lips. "Okay. Okay, I'm going, I'm–"

Zuko presses a hand to his mouth so Sokka kisses the back of his knuckles instead. "Flight," he insists, muffled, and stays there as Sokka begrudgingly backs up to get in his car – framed in the doorway, one hand alight and the other hiding his smile.

He drops his hand from his mouth to wave as Sokka opens the car door, and he immediately closes the gap between them and plants another kiss square on Zuko's mouth as he laughs and pokes him.

"Sokka! Flight! You need to go–"

"I'm going, I'm going!"

He does, this time.

They're going to have to navigate how to tell Izumi, what they're allowed to show in front of the kids, how serious they're even going to be able to get until the school year is over – but he wants to be serious with Zuko, he realises. He wants to be a part of his life and Izumi's, wants to be in this for the long haul–

He can't see Zuko for another entire week.

Sokka glares at the signs directing him to the airport. Only another couple of minutes – yeah, he’ll make his flight. As much as he can't wait to see everyone – and to tell them, spirits, although he'll need to check with Zuko how much can be told – the timing is almost comically tragic.

---

Zuko leans back against the closed door, staring out into the darkness of the closed shop, and presses his fingertips to his lips. If he closes his eyes for a moment he can picture how Sokka had looked at him, eyes bright in the dim light of Zuko's flame, chapped lips nervously caught between his teeth, hands twisting in the hem of his parka– And those hands on his hips, at the small of his back, holding Izumi's hand or helping her fasten her coat or his fingers intertwined with Zuko's own.

He hasn't dated properly since Mai. He hasn't been on even a single date since Jin. He hasn't done anything since he was eighteen. Agni, he should be freaking out right now, but… Maybe it's because his brain has finally started to be quiet for the first time in a week. Maybe it's because he's just had the best five uninterrupted hours of sleep that he's had in a long time. Maybe it's because Azula is safe, Izumi is safe, he's safe. Whatever the reason, for once in his life, Zuko is fairly sure that this is a turn of events that makes him unambiguously happy.

He's not exactly tired right now, and there's no-one else in the building and no need to rush back upstairs to Izumi, so Zuko brews a pot of jasmine and sits at a table and just relaxes, for what feels like the first time in forever.

...holy shit. He's going on a date. With Sokka.

Although Sokka wasn't wrong when he said that they've basically been doing that for the last week anyway. Time to try it again, without the crippling existential fear and the constant paranoia and the fact that Sokka was mostly there as bodyguard and emotional crutch.

The phone in his pocket, almost completely forgotten, buzzes – Sokka. He must be getting ready for his flight by now, or at least Zuko hopes so. By the time he lands, Izumi will be back home and so will Uncle, and they'll be getting ready to leave for the Caldera. They're all okay. They're all safe.

Zuko makes a mental note to ask him for a photo to use as his contact picture – the only option he has right now is of their hands, clasped together inside Sokka's mitten that day at the turtleduck pond.

missing u already

SOKKA
FLIGHT
And I miss you already too