Chapter Text
If there was one thing that Sokka Bueller was good at, it was convincing his dad to let him stay home, all while managing to feign sickness.
Most people often thought that it was an easy task, and that anyone could do it. But in reality, it wasn’t. It was an art that Sokka had come to master after several times of getting his dad to agree to a sick day throughout the years.
Of course, the man allowed it every time, genuinely believing his son was sick.
But Sokka’s improvement of this.. skill, you could call it, is what made this possible. Without it, his dad wouldn’t have let him stay home every single time.
And when you’re trying to avoid a test on a random Thursday.. well, you find yourself doing whatever possible to achieve that goal, such as using this so called skill.
Besides, he hadn’t faked sick in a while. Sokka figured that it’s better to only do so every once in a while, so he doesn’t have his dad getting suspicious. And, he’s more likely to believe him that way.
His dad, Hakoda, had come to check on his son after realizing that he still wasn’t up. It was in his typical routine to say goodbye to both of his kids before heading off to work. And yet, only Katara was downstairs, ready to head off to school.
Hakoda knocked three times on the bedroom door, before calling, “Sokka?”
The boy positioned himself properly in bed before responding back, slowly peeking his head out of his covers.
“..Dad?” He replied, in a fake, hoarse voice.
This concerned Hakoda even more, so he decided to open his door and enter. He spotted his son, still in bed and clad in pajamas.
“Sokka? Is everything alright? School’s about to start soon, and Katara’s downstairs, waiting for you.”
Ah, right. Katara gave him rides to school in her newly owned car. Yes, he realized how embarrassing it was that his little sister was the one driving him, and that it wasn’t the other way around. But he wanted a car for his birthday, and got a computer instead. What more could be done?
To this day, he still didn’t understand why that was. Maybe his dad found him to be a little more reckless between the two of them. Which, in fairness, was true. Katara had the responsibility of a mother of three; he had the responsibility of a college kid just trying to make it by.
His dad was always telling him that he was smart, but sometimes just lacked common sense in certain situations.
“I’m fine, dad. Just.. working up the courage to get out of bed. I don’t feel too good.” Sokka informed, trying to make an attempt at sitting up, only to be stopped by his dad’s hand.
“You’re sick? Oh, jeez.. are you in any pain?”
The brunette shock his head ‘no’, before pausing mid way and deciding that he could actually use his dad’s assumption to his advantage.
Luckily enough for him, Hakoda was the ‘concerned parent’ type. He very much cared about his kids’ well being and health, and although Sokka didn’t like lying to him, he really needed to take today off.
“Well.. yeah, actually. My stomach is in a lot of pain, and I’ve been coughing really bad since last night.”
His guilt settled in even more when he saw his dad’s worried eyes. And since Sokka knew his dad better than anyone else, he already knew what his next words would be.
“Maybe I should stay home with you today. Just to make sure you’re alright, okay?” Hakoda suggested, sitting down on the edge of his son’s bed.
“No!”
Hakoda eyed Sokka, causing for the boy to clear his throat and try again.
“Uh.. well, I mean, no. That’s not necessary at all. I don’t want you to miss work just because of me. And besides, I think I’ll actually go to school. I have a history test.” He said, sitting up again.
In Sokka’s eyes, the key to really getting your parents to believe that you’re actually sick is making it seem like you genuinely want to go to school. It’ll make them believe that you’re just as disappointed about you missing school as much as they are, which is an immediate way to get them to agree to your staying home.
In reality, he truthfully couldn’t get himself to care too much for school.
Sokka enjoyed his physics class a ton, and any of the sciences were fun to him, but he couldn’t get himself to care too much for anything else.
He simply lacked the motivation, and often found himself getting easily frustrated with school.
“No, don’t be ridiculous. You’re sick, and clearly not feeling well.” Hakoda paused before continuing. “If you really don’t want me to stay home with you, I won’t. But call me incase of anything, okay?”
The boy agreed with a nod of his head, smiling weakly to really seal the deal.
“Of course. Thanks dad, you’re the best.”
Before anymore could be said, footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs, and soon enough Sokka’s bedroom door was being opened again.
“Sokka, what’s taking you so long?” Katara asked, a hand on her hip as she assessed the scene.
She stood in the doorway, dressed in her navy blue sweater with black and white stripes on it. She also wore a pair of long jeans, accompanied by a black belt and some white Nike sneakers.
Katara had on her mother’s necklace as well, her most prized possession, and a blue bandanna in her hair.
As she stood there, the puzzle pieces soon clicked in her head.
Her blue eyes narrowed, looking back and forth between her brother and her dad. She’d seen this scene before—several times, may she add. It wasn’t hard for her to understand what was going on here.
“Are you serious? Dad, you’re letting him stay home again?”
Normally, Sokka would be nervous in a situation like this; Katara was a very argumentative person when she wanted to be, and on any other occasion, could possibly get their dad to side with her.
However, he was certain such a thing wouldn’t happen now, since he knew that their dad would always choose their health over them attending a school day. And since his mind had already be made, it definitely wouldn’t be changing anytime soon.
“Katara, your brother is sick. I’m not going to make him go to school when he isn’t feeling well. I certainly wouldn’t do that to you.” Hakoda explained, calmly.
“..Okay, fair. But do you seriously believe that he’s sick? He’s had so many sick days that you’ve got to admit it’s pretty unrealistic.” Katara argued, glancing over at her apparently sick brother, who’s eyes met hers.
“Katara? Katara, is that you?” Sokka questioned, purposely trying to act delirious as he reached out a shaky hand in her direction.
He couldn’t help but to have a little fun, given the situation at hand. I mean, come on, are you really siblings if you don’t indulge in some playful banter?
“Oh, stop it! You aren’t even sick, Sokka.”
“Katara, that’s enough. I think you should be heading off to school now.” Hakoda scolded, before turning to look over at his son again. “I should also be going now. Are you sure you’ll be fine by yourself?”
Sokka nodded, before saying, “Yeah, I’ll be okay. No need to worry, dad.”
He laid his head back down on his pillow, pulling his covers over his body again. When his dad wasn’t looking, Sokka looked over at Katara, who was still standing by his door, and winked with a grin.
His sister groaned, before storming out of his room and heading downstairs to leave for school.
“..I’m sorry about her, Sokka. I truly don’t understand why she gets so angry when you stay home.”
“Me neither, dad. Me neither..” Sokka murmured out with a yawn, blinking in a tired fashion. His dad soon got the hint and stood up from his bed, leaning down momentarily to run a hand through Sokka’s hair.
“I’ll be going now. But seriously, if you need anything, just give me a call. And I hope you feel better soon. Bye, Sokka.”
Hakoda turned to leave afterwards, exiting his son’s room and shutting the door behind him.
After waiting several minutes to hear the screeching of both his dad’s and Katara’s cars, Sokka slowly sat up in his bed, looking at no one in particular.
He bought it.
The teenager got out of his bed, grabbing his television remote in the process while turning it on. He always liked having something playing in the background as he got ready for the day.
Sokka then went to his closet, pulling out his favorite robe to put on. It was cozy and comfortable, which he adored. Afterwards, he walked over to where his window was.
Incredible. One of the worst performances of my career and they never doubted it for a second!
Well, Katara did, but I was expecting that. The point is though, my dad believed it, and now I can skip school to do as I please. That’s really all that matters to me, if I’m being honest.
Once the blinds were opened, he was able to look at the scenery outside, getting a decent enough view of today’s morning.
It was a sunny, vibrant day, with clouds filling up every part of the sky, and birds chirping as the spring breeze passed by.
How can I possibly be expected to handle school on a day like this?
Sokka began to set up certain things in his room so that, on the little chance his dad did return home while he was out, it would make it seem as if he was still in bed.
Sound machine that produces a snoring noise when the door’s opened? Check. A fake mannequin tucked into his blankets? Check. A trophy that’s tied up with knots to the mannequin, so that if the door’s opened, it makes the mannequin move in a life-like way? Also check.
There was much more that he had set up in order to ensure he wouldn’t get caught—because believe him, that was the last thing he wanted to happen—while he was out and about.
Sokka knew how to have a good time, and he also knew how to make sure said good time wasn’t ruined.
Life moves pretty fast.
He exited his room, taking a turn until he reached the bathroom down the hall.
If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.
He entered the bathroom to take a shower, removing his robe and placing it off to the side, before getting inside the bathtub.
As he turned on the shower, the droplets of warm water began to pour down onto his body, and he started to wash himself soon after.
I do have a test today; that wasn’t bullshit. But really, what’s the point? We have so many tests in that class so often anyhow. What’s the big deal if I’m late to doing one of them? I don’t really give a crap.
He then went on to sing, using the shower head as a microphone.
'Cause you're my lady, I'm your fool
It makes me crazy when you act so cruel
Come on, baby, let's not fight
We'll go dancing, everything will be
alright..’
“Bueller?”
Economics class. Attendance was being done by their teacher right now, Piandao Lorensax, who often started their class by doing such.
“Bueller?”
Absolute silence was delivered as a response, besides the shifting of students in their seats. One of the kids, Ty Lee, was blowing bubbles with her gum.
Piandao let out a sigh, before trying again. “Bueller?”
A few students glanced over at the empty desk to the far right.
“Oh, Sokka? He’s not here.” Ty Lee told her teacher, placing her arms down on her desk as she leaned forward.
“Yes, Ty Lee, I can see that. Do you perhaps know where he is?” Mr. Lorensax asked.
“Um, he’s sick. My best friend’s sister’s boyfriend’s brother’s girlfriend heard from this guy who knows this kid who’s going with a girl who saw Sokka pass out at forty one flavors last night!”
Almost the entire class turned to stare at her, some clearly on the verge of rolling their eyes at the unnecessary mouthful she just spewed out.
“I guess it’s pretty serious..” Ty lee added, mumbling.
“..Thank you, Ty Lee.” Mr. Lorensax said.
“No problem whatsoever.” Ty Lee replied, smiling brightly.
Although he’d never said it out loud before, he really did enjoy having Sokka in his class. He was one of his best students, and he was a delight to have in class. It was always interesting hearing the boy’s thoughts.
Nonetheless, he continued taking attendance, looking back down at his sheet of paper with the students’ names.
“Frye?” He called out, waiting.
“Frye?”
Zuko Frye differed heavily from his best friend Sokka. Whenever given the chance to, he stayed home. He didn’t like going out much, unless it was to a place that interested him, like the park, for instance. (Feeding the ducks there was fun, okay?)
Overall, he didn’t enjoy going to places where he had never been; he despised anything new or unknown.
So, as he laid in bed, sick and unwilling to move, he felt annoyed as he heard his phone begin to ring.
Tissues, pill bottles, and medicine crowded his bedside tables. Zuko was often sick—so often that he was practically accustomed to the feeling. If he was being honest, Zuko felt a lot more human and normal while he was sick than anything else.
He closed his eyes shut, squeezing them tightly as the phone continued to ring. When it stopped, he let out a sigh of relief—only for that sigh to turn into a groan once it started up again.
Cursing under his breath, the boy reached one hand over for the phone, pressing the ‘answer’ button on the machine. He also put it on speakerphone so he could hear throughout the room, not wanting to hold the phone to his ear.
“Zuko, babe! What’s happening?”
Zuko had instantly recognized that all too cheery voice from the moment it had called out his name.
That, and Sokka was the only person who ever referred to him as ‘babe’.
From where Sokka was calling Zuko, he was outside on a lawn chair, sitting in his backyard. He was also wearing his blue swim shorts, with a pair of shades resting on his head, and a cool glass of lemonade in his other hand that didn’t hold the phone.
Meanwhile, Zuko situated himself comfortably in his bed once more, before sighing and saying, “Very little.”
It was the honest truth. Not much was going on; he was sick, for crying out loud.
“Well Zuko.. how would you like to change that? C’mon, get your ass out of bed, and come on over to my place.”
Zuko groaned, clearly growing more and more irritated with his friend.
“Sokka, I can’t. I’m not doing any of your weird shenanigans today, alright? I’m seriously sick.” His raspier-than-usual voice stated.
When Zuko heard nothing but the sound of quiet in response, he was beginning to think that Sokka was actually considering leaving him alone. But of course, he should’ve known better. After all, Sokka was one of, if not the stubbornest person he knew.
“Pfft. Zuko. Zuko, Zuko, Zuko.. my dear Zuko-“
“Cut the crap, Sokka. What do you want?”
A pause, before the other boy started up his nonsense again.
“Fine, I get it. You’re sick. But when aren’t you? I mean, seriously, you definitely have more sick days racked up than I do.”
..That, was surprisingly true. Zuko did in fact have more sick days than Sokka did.
But in his defense, he had actually been sick all of those times. Either that, or he had needed to take a mental health day, due to his own personal issues, or his father really getting to him on a particular school night. Such things caused for him to stay home the following morning; valid reasons, he’d say.
Sokka, on the other hand, had only been sick.. well, none of those days, actually. As far as Zuko knew, Sokka hadn’t been genuinely sick in years.
It was ironic, really. Even laughable.
“Yeah, okay. So what?” Zuko finally replied, tone laced with annoyance.
“Sooo, since you’re pretty much sick all of the time, that means you’re sick like.. almost everyday. Meaning that no matter when I ask to hang out, you’ll most likely be sick.”
“Okay, so maybe that’s true, but that doesn’t mean I have to hang out with you right now. I feel like complete shit, Sokka. I can’t go anywhere.” Zuko admitted.
“Again; you always feel like complete shit. So let’s go do something fun! Please Zuko? Pleaseee?”
Zuko, though he would never voice it, almost caved in. Almost.
“ No, Sokka.” Zuko urged on, trying to make his friend understand that his mind wouldn’t change.
And with that, he hung up the call, not wanting to discuss it anymore. Zuko needed to put his foot down; he had to. He couldn’t just let Sokka get his way whenever he wanted to.
“I’m dying..” He whispered to himself, because he felt as if he was as he laid there, staring at his ceiling.
Briiiing!
Zuko glanced over ar his phone, narrowing his amber eyes. He pressed the button once again to answer the call, putting it on speakerphone as well.
“You’re not dying, you just can’t think of anything good to do.”
And just as quickly as the call had begun, Sokka hung up, causing for Zuko to look at his phone in surprise. He sighed, laying back down to try and get some sleep.
Spoiler alert: he didn’t, and he also failed miserably trying.
Sokka placed his phone off to the side, shaking his head in disbelief at the way Zuko was acting.
All he wanted to do was spend the day with his best friend; what was so wrong with that? And besides, Zuko had a car. Sokka didn’t. If they were going to head anywhere, well.. he kind of needed a lift.
Look, I’m all for giving Zuko his personal space, but if anybody needs a day off, it’s him. He has a lot of things to sort out before he graduates, and what kind of friend would I be if I let him stay in his house all day, cooped up and isolated? A pretty bad one, I’d say.
And besides, he can’t be wound up this tight and go to college. His roommate will kill him!
Sokka took a sip of his lemonade before placing the glass on the small table beside him. He then pulled his shades down over his eyes, staring up at the bright sun.
Pardon my French, but Zuko is so tight, that if you stuck a lump of coal up his ass, in two weeks you’d have a diamond.
Hakoda worked as a detective, and his workplace was located only fifteen minutes or so away from home. Believe it or no, Illinois as a whole has very high crime rates, and it’s known for such. He’d always wanted to do something that got him involved in the community; something that allowed him to protect the well being of others, and was an active job.
In other words, taking on the role of a detective was perfect for the man. And right now, he was trying to look over his notes for a particular tricky case he and his colleagues had been dealing with for quite some time now.
Key word being trying, because soon enough, he was interrupted from his train of thought when he got a call.
His fatherly instincts immediately assumed it was Sokka who was calling, and that something was wrong. That maybe his sickness had gotten worse.
Hakoda picked up the phone, clearing his throat before doing so (just incase he happened to be speaking to someone important), and answered.
“Hakoda Bueller,” He introduced, phone pressed to his ear, trying to keep it there without holding it as he continued to type away.
What? The man liked multitasking; he was decent at it, too.
“This is Long Feng, Principal of students.” Came a deep, professional voice.
Hakoda’s eyes widened slightly, realizing his mistake. “Oh.. Oh my God, I am so sorry. I completely forgot to call in.”
“..So you are aware that Sokka isn’t in school today?”
Hakoda paused his typing, deciding that he’ll continue his investigation work later after this call. “Yeah, I am. He’s at home, sick. Look, I really meant to call in, I just have a lot going on at my job right now.” He replied, earnestly.
When there was no answer, Hakoda continued, going on to say, “It just completely slipped my mind; it won’t happen again.”
“Well, are you also aware, Mr. Bueller, that Sokka does not have a.. what we consider to be an exemplary attendance record?”
Hakoda subconsciously raised an eyebrow, although of course he knew that Mr. Feng wasn’t able to see him.
That didn’t.. sound right. Sokka was, at the least, passing all of his classes, and was even doing ‘outstandingly well’ in a few of them (something his son’s physics teacher had said).
He also knew that Sokka always went to school whenever possible, and only stayed home when he was truly sick.
So, as far as Hakoda knew, his son’s attendance couldn’t have been as bad as his principal was making it out to be.
“..I’m sorry, Mr. Feng, but I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Hakoda said, carefully.
Long Feng audibly sighed from his end, rubbing at his temples. He had a feeling that it would go down this way—Mr. Bueller being completely oblivious to what his son’s doing, and Long Feng himself having to break it down for him.
“Look, Mr. Bueller, I’m going to lay it on you as straight as possible: Sokka has missed an unacceptable amount of school days.”
“But-“ Hakoda began to say, before being abruptly, and quite rudely, cut off.
“ It doesn’t matter if his grades are good; he’s been absent too many times, and this school cannot stand for such a thing.”
Hakoda leaned back in his office chair, now steadily holding the phone to his ear with one hand.
None of this was making sense; absolutely none of it. What kind of game was this principal playing? Hakoda was a very busy person, and quite frankly, he didn’t have time for this.
The man didn’t believe that Sokka had been absent a ridiculous amount of times, because he would’ve known. Hakoda would’ve known if his son wasn’t at school.
Principal Feng took the confused father’s silence as a sign to continue, so he did, rearranging his own desk and flicking off specks of dust as he did so.
“If Sokka thinks that he can just, coast through this month and still graduate? Ha! Not happening, Mr. Bueller. Not happening.. I can hold him back another year, if needed.”
Hakoda let out a quiet gasp, his face slowly contorting into an upset expression.
Who did this man think he was? He was threatening to hold his son back from graduating, and clearly didn’t have an issue with doing so. All because of some non-existent horrible attendance record.
“Well. This is completely news to me, Mr. Feng.” He finally managed to say, waiting for some sort of explanation for all of this, and proof, if possible.
If he’s going to accuse his son of missing several days, then Hakoda should at least be given something to show for it.
“It usually is. Every single time I talk to the parent of a kid who’s going off and missing school, they always say what you just did.”
“ Okay, but here’s where you’re wrong; Sokka isn’t just ‘going off and missing school’. The only reasons he’s ever stayed home was due to him being sick, or because he had an appointment in the morning. He never just misses school.” Hakoda stated very firmly, clearly unimpressed with these accusations being made against Sokka.
“So far this semester your son has been absent nine times.“
“I’m sorry, nine times? ”
“Nine times.” Principal Feng repeated, a little amused at the amount of disbelief Sokka’s father was in.
He always found it funny how much parents trusted their kids to just.. do the right thing. It’s the eighties, for Christ’s sakes!
“..I don’t remember him being sick nine times.” Hakoda thought out loud, audibly confused.
“That’s probably because he wasn’t sick. Your son has been skipping school.“
“Now hold on a second-“
“Wake up and smell the coffee, Mr. Bueller. Sokka has had you fooled for a very long time, and you need to start opening up your eyes before it’s too late.”
“I’m sorry, but I just can’t believe this. It all sounds very.. absurd.” Hakoda voiced, wanting for Sokka’s principal to understand just how ridiculous this seemed to him.
There was no way that this could be true, right? It didn’t make any sense to him; he needed a sheet of his son’s attendance, anything to show that this was the truth.
Okay, so he admits that he can often get heavily wrapped up in his work, and sometimes doesn’t pay too much attention to certain parts of his kids’ lives.
Hakoda tries to be there for them as much as possible, though. Like Katara’s speech and debate competitions, for example—he makes it to almost all of them. And Sokka’s hockey games? He’s usually there, too.
He genuinely tries, is the point. He makes it his goal to always be there for his kids when possible. Not only that, but he also listens to what they have to tell him.
So wouldn’t he know if Sokka was skipping school so often? Hakoda believes he would’ve noticed, at the least. He can only hope that what he’s hearing isn’t the truth; he really does trust his children.
“Well, I’ve got his record right here in front of me; it’s on my computer.”
Principal Feng looks over to it, examining the part of the screen that shows Sokka Bueller’s days of absence. The digital number reads ‘9’, when suddenly, it begins to change.
It slowly goes backwards, counting down until it reaches the number ‘2’. The man’s eyes widen upon the sight, almost dropping the phone he has pressed to his ear.
He quickly removes the phone from there, placing his hand over the part you speak into, so that Mr. Bueller doesn’t hear the following.
“JOO DEE!” Principal Feng shouts, calling for his secretary so that she can help with the situation.
Meanwhile, in Sokka’s bedroom, he’s also on his own personal computer—except it’s for an entirely different reason.
He’d say that he’s pretty smart when it comes to anything technological; so yes, he did hack into his personal school records so that he could edit and change his days of absence.
I asked for a car, I got a computer. How’s that for being born under a bad sign? You have to make do with what you’ve got.
“JOO DEE!” Principal Feng yells again, more impatiently this time.
The secretary is in her own office, somehow not hearing the angered man calling out her name.
“..Look, Mr. Feng, I can assure you that Sokka has never skipped school before without reason. He’s at home right now, probably in bed eating soup, or something. He’s truly a very sick boy.” Hakoda informs, pretending like he hadn’t just heard the other man screaming off the top of lungs.
(No, Principal Feng didn’t cover his hand properly over the phone. Hakoda did in fact hear all of that yelling.)
Hakoda goes on to hang up the phone call, not wanting to deal with this.. so called principal, any longer than he needed to.
Do public schools just hire anyone these days?
Whatever the case, Hakoda settles on calling Sokka sometime later today to make sure that he’s doing alright.