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It was the first time Bumi had ever been allowed to touch his uncle’s famous boomerang.
At least, the first time he could remember.
His parents laughed about how, somehow, a toddler managed to get a hold of Sokka’s boomerang, to the inventor’s absolute distress.
“It had permanent drool marks! It’s not funny, Katara!” His uncle would complain even years later, to Bumi’s slight shame.
But seeing his mother laugh so freely and loudly was worth it. Lately, she’s been so stressed with her latest pregnancy that everything has been setting her off. Bumi didn’t want to be another source of stress. Republic City by itself was already enough. His dad was barely home lately, always fires to put out, so it fell to Bumi to be the man of the house. Kya always mocked him when he talked like that, but she didn’t get it.
Uncle Sokka did, though. He always got him in a way no one else did.
Bumi never felt inadequate in front of his uncle. His weird humor — as Kya called it — and his genius plans — as Bumi himself called them, with his uncle Sokka and uncle Teo in tow — were never a hindrance. Neither was his lack of bending. Which… to be fair, he knew did not bother his parents (too much). Bumi knew his father loved him with every piece of his heart, just like he did with Kya and the new baby (which he still couldn’t remember; it sounded so weird, like from a different place and time). Nothing erased the fact that he was the son of the avatar. And bender-less.
Less in everything, it seemed like.
He couldn’t help with healing when people got hurt. Even being raised with bisons didn’t help if he fell from one into the ground. When the sea was rough, Bumi tried to help the ships land in the bay of their little island. At least that didn’t require bending. But it would have been easier if he could bend.
Everything in his life would have been so much easier if he could bend. And it would make his parents’ lives easier, too.
He knew his parents would never think that, but Bumi felt guilty. Unable to become what either of them — or the world — needed him to be.
The firstborn of the avatar… a nonbender.
The son of the master waterbender who revolutionized the world and bending… a nonbender.
It hurt to even think about it. And the many fake people who surrounded him didn’t make him forget it. Though his mom made sure they’d shut their mouths immediately, the second a glance was noticed.
“Hey, little inventor. Don’t worry about it.” Uncle Sokka always seemed to know what to say as he sat by his side at the parlor while Katara and the Air Acolytes were organizing for the ceremony on the weekend. “Your mom told me about it.”
Bumi wondered if this was about the annoying fake guy from some Earth Kingdom land from yesterday or the Water Tribe purist from Tuesday. They all seemed the same. Only bending seemed to matter for those dunderheads.
“I still get chewed out even now, Bumi. And I freaking invented the balloon!” His uncle exclaimed while leaning back into the bench and breathing in the fresh night air.
The young boy is quite sure that his uncle invented it with Teo’s father (who Bumi never got to meet, sadly, but heard great stories) but he won’t say a thing. It’s rare that Uncle Sokka gets to visit nowadays, what with all his business in both Water Tribes and helping with the White Lotus and Aunt Toph’s meteorite investigations.
Bumi wondered how any of his parents’ friends (and his parents themselves) managed to sleep with all they had to do. Apparently, it’d been way worse during the war, or so he was told. “We were unable to sleep for days!! I still get angry just hearing that damn thumping!” His uncle and mom always complained when reminded of those times.
Just having Uncle Sokka around should’ve made him happy. It was always like that before. But now that he was ten, things seemed more difficult. Heavier. Even his dad’s airbending games and flying couldn’t make Bumi forget all those hurtful words.
He’s been looking down for a while, though he only realizes when he sees something placed in his lap.
Bumi can’t believe it.
Uncle Sokka’s boomerang?!
He whips his head around so quickly he feels his neck hurt a bit — maybe later he’d need to ask mom to help with that if she isn’t too tired (or angry) — and gets all the confirmation he needs from his uncle’s solemn face.
After seeing it from a distance in the famous post-war pictures that he had ever since he could remember, Bumi was now finally touching it. This wasn’t his uncle’s latest boomerangs, filled with many trinkets and cool metal he found in his travels.
Oh no, this was the boomerang. The very first one. His trademark. The boomerang from the war, so long before Bumi was born. A completely different time – one so difficult to even believe in, considering how Uncle Zuko from the stories seems like someone else altogether.
It was like touching molten gold. Bumi didn’t quite know what to hold or what was even respectful.
He felt a warm, strong hand on top of his head and heard the words that brought tears to his eyes.
“It’s yours, little captain. You deserve it.” Uncle Sokka saying that was priceless. The highest sort of praise there could be. “Make me proud with it, champ.”
Neither of the Water Tribe inventors mentioned the tears in their eyes.
Sokka knew right then and there that he’d picked the perfect gift.
The experienced warrior smiled warmly as he watched his nephew touch the weapon as if it were a jewel. It was rare to see such deep respect for the (non-bending) fighting arts in such a young age, but then again, he probably shouldn’t be surprised at all, considering how similar to him Bumi was at times.
The closest thing Sokka had to a son was his nephew. Both were nonbenders and had a passion for mastermind games and strategies, not to mention war stories and machinery schemes. They were also the only ones who openly ate meat at the air temple, to Aang’s chagrin. While Kya didn’t care for old boring stories (unless they involved cool water bending or romance) Bumi jumped at any chance to hear the plans Sokka came up with during and after the war.
It was so nice having someone to really listen to and see you as their personal hero. And having his little nephew be his biggest fan was just unbeatable. Sokka totally understood how Iroh felt now. Even if little Bumi turned into an angsty teenager à la Zuko, you could bet Sokka would stick by him through thick and thin. It was the least his nephew deserved.
Deep down, Sokka did wish his nephew were born a bender. Just like he’d secretly envied his sister, especially as they got older and he saw what she could do — ‘goddess’ indeed, as Aang called her — and he did want to be able to control the elements too. Just one. Didn’t have to be much.
But he’d rather throw away all of his skills if it could let Bumi be a bender. It was rough on the kid. Son of the Avatar — though Aang didn’t care, but it was obvious he needed airbenders, the world knew that — and the Master Waterbender… there were serious expectations on him. Those that didn’t get solved by a position of leadership. It was something that only a nonbender could get. As much as he knew how much Bumi was loved, not having something everyone around him had was a particular type of hurt difficult to understand.
A type that only someone who has also experienced the same pain can understand.
Sokka long learned the lesson: don’t focus on what you don’t have. There’s absolutely something only you can do. The shit you excel in. And, of course, he wouldn’t word it like that to the kid by his side. But soon enough, when Bumi was a young adult, they’d go on all sorts of adventures.
“Promise?” His nephew’s gray-bluish eyes sparkled with so much hope. Such a perfect mix of both his parents’ eyes.
As always, Sokka’s heart melted even more every time he was with family.
He’d make sure Bumi had a good role model of a nonbender. A fellow inventor, strategist, and, obviously, the coolest uncle ever.
“It will always come back to you,” Sokka said warmly to his nephew and ruffled his hair. “Just like I always will.”
His uncle said it with such conviction and pride that Bumi couldn’t help but take it as an absolute truth.
Too bad his uncle never did come back.
So young. Still so much left to do. It’s unbelievable someone so young died so soon. Especially a member of Team Avatar.
A White Lotus mission led to the loss of the brightest mind of the age. What were the White Lotus doing, anyway?
It’s all too much for Bumi to hear. So many people who didn’t even care for Sokka or Bumi keep offering their condolences.
They still had so much left to do! So many inventions that were only in the blueprint phase, without even the right tools to begin building! The new boomerangs, flying machines, back-scratching automatic machines (true genius, they both believed) and now… it was all stuck. Bumi had so many naval strategies he was saving to go over with his uncle. And now, it was just a pile of leftover paper, useless.
The funeral and days after seem to be part of the same gray, defeating afternoon when his uncle’s casket was burned on a ship leaving for the bay — the Southern Water Tribe way.
Nothing his parents or siblings say reaches him. Even Aunt Toph, Aunt Suki, or Uncle Zuko doesn’t help now. They are hurting too much, each grieving his uncle so deeply, so privately.
It’s that boomerang.
The only thing Bumi can’t bring himself to throw away. It’s been his treasure, his own personal legacy, on his bedside table for over a decade now. He could never get rid of that.
Holding it in his trembling hands, Bumi lets himself cry in the safety and privacy of his room. He’s never been comfortable crying in front of others, unlike his parents. Maybe it’s a Water Tribe man thing. His uncle was the same. Always happy to show his wittiness, funny jokes, and ideas. But the second tears were involved, he hid himself away. Not for shame. But for privacy. His mother never got it, though Bumi gets it, somehow. He always just got his uncle. And vice-versa.
He’ll miss him so much. It’s unbearable to think of a world without Uncle Sokka. Right now, he only wants to go after whoever is responsible for this and beat them down — chivalry be damned. But he knows his uncle would be against it.
The boomerang glints in the lowly lit room, reflecting the candle by the table. The blue eyes reflecting on it remind him of Uncle Sokka. Which is silly, as neither of them had ever been much for spirituality — despite being family with the Avatar himself — but somehow, it feels like his uncle is talking to him.
“Make me proud.” Those words from so many years ago in a crisp night come back now, as if they had just happened.
Bumi nods — to himself, the treasure in his hands, and his uncle.
He’ll make sure to leave his mark on the world and help people. Just like Uncle Sokka did.
Bending has nothing to do with it. He just had to find the right place where his talents shone the most.
His place wasn’t here, in Republic City, nor the Air Acolytes or even the White Lotus. Bumi understood that, just like Uncle Sokka, he was a little bit in every world, every mission, and every country required their help. Thinking that those were big shoes to fill wouldn’t get him anywhere.
Bumi wasn’t his uncle, and he would never be. They were so similar, but they weren’t the same.
But Uncle Sokka stood by him always and showed him there was a world full of possibilities outside bending or politics. And Bumi wanted to thank him for that. Be useful to the world in his own way, just like his parents and family were.
All of their plans to travel, invent, eat, and help people across the world went from a two-person adventure to a single one.
That did not stop Bumi from going at it, with all his heart and joy. Anything less would disappoint his uncle.
Uncle Sokka never did come back. But his boomerang and, most importantly, his values, lessons, and jokes stayed with Bumi for life.