Moon
Side by side, Zuko and Sokka probably appear as different as night and day, sun and moon. Zuko wouldn’t be sure which of them could be attributed to which though. Would he be the sun? He can be quite fiery, over-emotional, insane at times. From the few minutes he and Sokka have spent together, the man seems more collected than him, more composed, more cool, more charismatic. The moon is charismatic. It attracts, it pulls the tide towards itself. Suki could be the tide in this scenario.
She, in fact, is the only thing separating the two boys from one another and preventing a potentially volatile chemical reaction. One that would solely be Zuko’s fault, of course. His leg won’t stop shaking beneath the table and he can’t stop biting his nails. Sokka, however, is entirely calm. He has no reason not to be. Suki, every few minutes, glances at Zuko with curious eyes, certain there must be something wrong with him. He only smiles and returns her attention to the front of the room.
“We’re going to break up into groups, depending on the department you’re aiming for, and we’ll handle you guys from there.” The student at the front of the room explains the procedure for what happens next. Zuko discreetly glances at Suki and Sokka, trying to get an idea for what department the latter is aiming for. But they don’t seem to be talking about anything related to the topic at hand. Instead, they’re giggling, trying to stifle their laughter and hide their smiles.
Zuko stands first, gesturing for Suki to follow. “Come on, the writers are stepping out.”
“Awesome.” She stands and gestures for Sokka to follow as well.
“So Zuko,” he begins, never losing that smirk of his. “I hear you’re a pretty good writer. Are you going for that fiction spot?”
Zuko narrows his eyes at Suki. How much has she told Sokka about him? He clears his throat. “I’m just thinking about it. I’m not really sure if it’s worth it if I’m going to be competing for a spot.”
Sokka frowns. “Why not? It sounds like you’re good at what you do.”
“By Suki’s standards.”
“Suki is smart ,” he says, playfully eying the girl as she giggles.
“I am pretty smart,” she agrees, before nudging Zuko. “You should try it, I’m serious.”
All the writers gather into a circle just outside of the classroom and seat themselves. The lead greets them and tells them generally of what writing for the magazine will look like, deadlines and concepts, overall themes and direction. He smiles. “Is anyone here curious about the spot in the magazine for fiction?”
A few hands raise. Zuko raises his own slowly, after the first few.
“Awesome. That’s a little bit different from a staff writer position. We’ll ask you to submit some examples of work and we’ll select three of you. We don’t have much time, so we’d like for you to use existing work and polish it. Unless you can write an entire short story in two weeks, of course. Then by all means, do it.”
Zuko has plenty of work in his arsenal, so that wouldn’t be an issue. The issue lies more in the other hands that were raised. His nerves are on fire, there’s no telling how good the others are and how he measures up. Is he the only one in this circle feeling this anxiety? Suki smiles serenely, she doesn’t seem troubled in the slightest. Sokka, even less so. The group lead pushes past the topic and moves to other things, answering questions around the circle.
The group scatters and Suki is as chipper as ever. It’s strange for Zuko, almost, to see her like this. She’s always happy, always cheerful. But this mood of hers seems different from normal. It seems to envelop both her and the boy who lingers just a little too close to her.
“So,” Zuko starts. “Sokka. What’re you majoring in?”
“I’m in mechanical engineering.”
“And you wanna write for an arts and culture magazine?”
Sokka snorts. “What are you majoring in?”
“Political science. Maybe it’s not artsy, but it’s definitely not that.”
“Sokka likes the idea of branching out,” Suki purrs. “It’s nice to be well versed in a few different things.”
Zuko frowns. “It’s also nice to put your everything into one field, you know. Master it.”
Sokka shrugs. “You’ve got a point. But who says I can’t do it all, master it all?”
Zuko stops walking entirely, he narrows his eyes at the boy in front of him and decides that with this cool demeanor of his, it should be no problem if Zuko chooses to be a little bit more forthright with how he feels. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Have you?”
“A lot of good things. I’m always skeptical when I hear tons of hype around one thing or one person like that, though. Nothing, nobody’s perfect, you can always poke a hole.”
“Maybe the problem isn’t the object of attention,” Sokka proposes, furrowing his brow and smirking grimly at once. “Maybe you want to poke holes, even if there’s no need to.”
“Why would I- why would someone do that?”
He shrugs again. “I don’t know. Why do you think so?”
Suki clears her throat. She must think Zuko’s line of questioning is too much, that he’s embarrassing her, being too abrasive, and doing too much. He sneers at Sokka, “It was nice meeting you.”
***
What humiliates Zuko the most about this predicament he’s in is how painfully obvious it is to all parties involved that he’s bothered, and more than that, that he’s the only bothered party.
He gets a phone call from Aang later in the evening, under the thinly veiled excuse of just checking in. The boy pokes and prods with those light and airy questions of his, never once fully tapping into the real issue at hand on its own. It’s Zuko, as per usual, who takes that first step.
“Did Suki tell you to call?” He asks his friend. He hears Aang sigh on the other end.
“Well, there’s no point in hiding it.” His tone of voice shifts, it gets deeper and Zuko feels better knowing he’s getting a more honest version of his friend. “Listen, Zuko. She’s just worried about you. And to be honest, so am I. You’ve been getting all agitated at the mention of Sokka and apparently meeting him didn’t go so well either.”
“Suki doesn’t know when to step in and when to butt out. And besides, we’ve met only once. Aren’t we being just a little dramatic considering this was our first interaction?”
“Maybe, so I’ll give you some grace there. But Zuko, if there’s something wrong, you should tell us. We're your friends and we want to help you, seriously.”
Zuko sighs. Aang isn’t like Suki. He hasn’t placed himself in the middle of things, he’s an observer standing somewhere off to the side. So at the very least, speaking to him shouldn’t do much harm. “It just gets to be a little bit annoying when you’re always hearing about how amazing someone is and how easily everything comes to them. And I know this makes me sound insanely bitter and jealous. But I’m really trying out here. So to have this guy shoved down my throat, and then to go out with my friend and have her shower him in all this attention… I don’t know. I guess I got overwhelmed.”
“By Suki and Sokka?”
Zuko hums. “By everything. Maybe I just miss having Azula around. She was a star that burned up everything nearby, but it’s better with the devil you know. It’s hard to hear about people who thrive in all these different areas when I can’t even find one place, one thing to commit to. And even if I could, I’m not sure I could thrive. I’m just about average in most things I do.”
“Zuko, I don’t like hearing you talk about yourself this way. Don’t say such definite things when you’re feeling down on yourself. You’re a fireball. You excel in the things you care about, and care is so necessary. Comparing yourself to your sister or to Sokka is a losing game. You shouldn’t feel threatened, especially when it comes to the people who love you. It’s not like Suki would ever toss you aside for a man. ”
Aang’s words are enough to get a chuckle out of Zuko. “You’re right. I guess I’m just nervous about… being left behind? If that makes sense. Everyone has their thing. I want one too.”
“Then find something,” Aang suggests. “And take it. You’re free.”
“Thank you.” And the two hang up. Out of all of his friends, Aang is the most deceptive. Behind that mischievous and playful persona is the wisest character he’s ever met. He mutters his friend’s words under his breath again and again. You’re free. You’re free.
He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to Suki. Then, he shuts his phone off. He won’t even afford himself the chance to second guess and go back on what he plans on doing.
Suki, he’d texted. I’m going to submit a story.