Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Zuko feels a nervous burn coarse through his arm as he reaches for the door handle to the Student Resource Center. He’d sent an email days ago to request support for his classes. He had relinquished a massively intimate part of himself. Doing that had taken a sort of courage Zuko doesn’t think he has, but he needed to do it.

Asking for help was never something that came easily to him, years spent being berated for his weaknesses and failures took their toll. The idea to reach out to the school had been Uncle’s idea. Zuko still has a hard time wrapping his head around the simple fact that Uncle only sees the best in him and wants him to succeed. Zuko’s healing was far from done, but his relationship with Uncle had only improved over the years, as they both began to understand each other better as adults.

Zuko grips his paperwork in his hands anxiously as he enters the building. He was asked to bring certain documents to his appointment with information on his disability so he could receive the proper support. A person was sitting at a desk fairly close to the front door, with a sign over their head that reads ‘Student Disability Resources’.

“How can I help you?” the person asks nicely.

“I’m- uh here for an appointment with Mrs. Glass,” Zuko says, trying to balance the quiver in his voice. He was thankful she spoke clearly.

“Alright, what’s your name, and what time is your appointment?”

“Zuko Sozin, and 10:30.”

“Okay, Zuko. Mrs. Glass will be coming to greet you soon.”

Zuko tries his best to suppress the shutter that moves through him from a stranger using his name so easily.

“Thank you,” he says before finding a chair nearby.

Zuko doesn’t wait long before a door cracks open and a woman slowly approaches him. He hastily stands up.

‘You must be Zuko, follow me.’ she signs. Zuko is pleasantly surprised she knows sign language.

Once she settles into her office, she gestures at Zuko who was still standing in the doorway to sit down. He closes the door behind him slowly and slides into a seat.

The appointment goes well. Mrs. Glass told Zuko it was almost like a formality, and they would set him up with someone who fits his schedule once they looked over his paperwork. Zuko feels the anxiety leave him as soon as he steps out of the center. He's proud of himself for tackling that.

He has some time to kill before his next class, so Zuko makes his way to the library to grab a much-needed cup of coffee and a quiet nook to study. It isn’t a far walk, his college campus isn’t big, which was one of the main draws for him when he decided to pick this particular school. It’s made up of mostly flat concrete and a beautiful forest wrapping the east side behind the dining hall. He’s never gone to explore the forest, but he knew it was a popular spot for kids to hang out. There’s a possibility he’s never gone because he knew that.
Zuko spends most of his free time between classes in the library studying. School is tough for Zuko, it feels as though he has to work twice as hard to get half as far, and he isn’t quite sure if those insecurities were that of his own accord or a remnant of being constantly compared to his far more competent sister. She had always taken to everything much easier than he ever did.

Zuko can’t help the relief that fills him at the sight of a fairly empty library, and no line at the small coffee shop in the far corner. He nervously thumbs the cash in his pocket as he walks up to the stand, but nobody comes to greet him immediately. He can hear some loud voices carry from the back, and he begins to nervously scan the menu even though he already knows what he wants. After a while, the raised voices stop, and a boy opens the door leading to what Zuko assumes is a storage room. The boy has long brown hair tied up in a topknot, save for his shaved sides. He was wearing a sun visor to block the escaping hair. His eyes shift to Zuko as he pulls off his apron. Zuko notes a scattering of tattoos on his arms.

“Hey,” he starts, a smile stretching across his face that doesn’t quite reach his deep blue eyes. “I… help you... but someone will… soon,” he finishes. The boy turns to pick a bag off a hook hanging near the door to the backroom and makes his way to the split in the counter to leave.

Zuko realizes he’d been staring. The guy is cute. He only now realizes he hadn’t understood much of what he’d said.

“I- uh, right. Thank you,” Zuko hopes he hadn’t said it too loud. The boy shoots him one last smile and leaves Zuko to himself, eyes following the boy walk away. He wonders what the yelling was about, and why that boy had looked so defeated as he left.

Zuko doesn't turn around for a moment, lost in his thoughts. When he does, his eyes meet Jet's annoyed expression.

"I would have tried to get your attention but," he points at his ear in a jerky fashion. His words were spoken too slowly, and his lips moved in an exaggerated, almost mocking manner. His short hair is spiked up, probably with gel, and he's wearing the same visor and apron as the boy who had left.

Zuko takes a deep breath and lets its calming energy spread through his body, just like Uncle had taught him. "Hi Jet," he says quietly enough he can barely hear himself. "A medium matcha latte please."

"Three seventy-five," Jet says simply.

Zuko hands him a five and tells him to keep it, wanting to keep their interaction to a minimum. He generally didn't get food or drinks on campus, and he preferred tea to coffee, but Zuko was feeling particularly burnt out. Zuko stands nearby to wait for his drink, and he hears Jet start to say something as the automatic coffee grinder turns on. When he hands Zuko his drink, he has a smirk on his face, and Zuko is partially thankful he hadn't heard what Jet said to him. Zuko grabs his drinks and says a quick thank you before walking off to find a corner of the library to study in.

Once Zuko settles at a table, he pulls out all of his notes and runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. He always prided himself on his ability to take neat and detailed notes. Being in college had proven to be a bit more difficult than high school, considering the fast-paced nature of classes and his inability to consistently get a seat at the front. There was more subject to be learned in each class, and professors sped through points before Zuko could process and write down information.

Suddenly it's 5:30 pm, and Zuko finds himself already walking to class. He isn’t sure what to call it when he loses himself in his head and comes back to find himself functioning as if he were on autopilot. It's one of those things he's never voiced to anyone, not even his therapist, even though he knows he should. After discovering, constant pain isn't a normal thing, he's able to function much better knowing he has chronic pain. It's the same deal, he doesn't know what's normal and what's not. He's always been out of tune with his needs, and he's never sure what's worth speaking up about.

Zuko spends yet another class straining to hear, struggling to keep up, and leaving the lecture hall feeling defeated with incomplete notes. He toys with the idea of going back to the library, but he decides to go home, feeling particularly done with the day. He walks to the bus stop and sits down, having memorized the schedule and expecting the bus to come in about thirty minutes. He pulls out a book he'd snagged at the library weeks back, The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz. Zuko spends a lot of time thinking about forgiveness, and what it means. Zuko likes Ruiz's take on forgiveness more than most, the focus being on detaching yourself from pain done to you.

The bus rolls up, and Zuko pulls his bus pass out of his pocket, quickly sliding it in the machine and picking the closest empty spot. He puts his book away and resigns himself to looking out the window. He's missed his stop in the past, and he's had to learn to pay attention to the landscape outside. Uncle's shop isn't far from school, and Zuko is soon pulling the cord hanging across the window to request a stop.

"Thank you," Zuko says to the driver as he steps off the bus.

He finds Uncle at the counter, chatting with a young woman when he walks into the shop. Uncle signs a quick hello to Zuko. Uncle insisted on them both learning sign language after the hearing started to degrade in his non-damaged ear. The doctors had told him sometimes hearing goes out in the other ear after one is damaged. Zuko was embarrassed at first and had told Uncle he could understand fine as long as he spoke slowly, but now he was secretly thankful Uncle convinced him to learn.

'I'm going upstairs,' Zuko signs back. 'Unless you need help,' he adds on.

'Kind offer, but I will be closing soon,' Uncle signs and smiles at the woman he was previously speaking to, then turns around to make her drink.

Zuko is silently glad Uncle let him retreat to the upstairs. He is always willing to help out in the shop, but all he really wants to do is tuck into bed for the rest of the evening.

Zuko wakes up at 10 am, not realizing he'd fallen asleep in the first place. He made sure to take only classes that start in the afternoon because he has trouble sleeping most nights.

Zuko stays in bed longer than he knows he should, but his pain is often worse in the mornings. He hoists himself out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom down the short hall. It takes him ten minutes to convince himself to get in the shower, and another ten to get out of the spray once he's done washing up. Towel wrapped around his waist, he brushes his teeth quicker than he should and streaks back to his room. After haphazardly toweling his short hair dry, Zuko approaches his closet. He wants nothing more than to put on a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt but he resolves to look a little more presentable. He pulls on a black turtleneck and layers it with a deep maroon round neck t-shirt, tucked into a pair of frayed, baggy black jeans he'd cut off just above his ankles so his typical choice of an ankle-high platform boot would fit the pants. He slips on a few rings to finish the look, already familiarly fiddling with them. Zuko generally tries not to look at himself in the mirror, so it's not too different from any other day when he doesn't bother to look.

Uncle is sitting in the seat facing the entrance to the kitchen when Zuko finally makes his way to get breakfast There's a pot of tea sitting on the small dining room table.

'Good morning, nephew,' Uncle signs pleasantly.

'Good morning, Uncle. I had my appointment yesterday at the Student Resource Center’' Zuko signs to him.

'That is good, nephew, I am glad you got your foot in the door,' Uncle seems genuinely pleased with this victory.

Zuko grabs an orange off the counter, a teacup out of the cabinet, and sits down across from Uncle. He pours himself some tea and peels his orange while he waits for it to cool. They sit in a comfortable silence as Uncle reads a newspaper and Zuko eats his orange. He knocks back his still-warm tea, takes his cup to the sink, and throws away his orange peels. Zuko goes back to his room to grab his bag and stops right before reaching the door. He glares at his cane leaning in the corner by the door, and the cane seems to glare right back. He knows Iroh put it there. He feels his pain isn't so bad he’d need it.

"Bye, Uncle!" Zuko yells before leaving the apartment.

The bus ride to school was uneventful, and he made his way to class with time to spare. Zuko drifts from class to class, eventually landing himself at the library where he does homework until his next class.

By the end of the day, part of Zuko was wishing he'd grabbed his cane. He has more classes on Wednesdays than on other days. It's a lot of walking, and he curses his uncle for knowing better than he does.

Chapter Text

Sokka likes his job just fine. It’s usually not busy in the library, and he enjoys the quiet. Free coffee was also a pretty good bonus. The only thing Sokka struggles with within the workplace is his co-worker, Jet. He and Jet don’t get along, this much was clear from the moment Sokka was hired. Jet is rude to customers and spends more time sitting on his phone than making drinks. Sokka finds himself picking up the slack most shifts he works with Jet and they end up having a lot of arguments over insignificant- seeming things.

“Hey Sokka, you didn’t refill the ice chest,” Jet says with a look on his face that says he’s not planning on doing it himself.

"Why don't you ever do anything yourself!" Sokka found himself raising his voice. He's not sure why he’s picking a fight, he's put up with far more from Jet in the past. Maybe it's because he had another dream about forgetting his mother's face. Maybe it's because Katara laughed when he told her he was flunking his intro to art class.

Nevertheless, Jet doesn't look bothered.

"I never do anything? I'm the one who trained you," Jet cooly fires back.

"So what? Any time I work with you I’m the one doing everything, and I'm tired of being pushed around by you!"

"I don't push you around, you loser! You're just too eager to help the customers before I can!"

"That's because you suck with customers! You know we have other responsibilities too, right?" Sokka starts to grow tired of fighting with him, wishing he could just go home.

"I don't suck with the customers!" Jet protests, but he doesn't say anything else.

"I think I'm gonna quit, Jet. Good luck with the rest of the shift."

Sokka did feel kind of bad for leaving Jet hanging, but there's only an hour left of their shift anyways. Sokka leaves the storage room and starts pulling off his apron. He's surprised to see someone waiting to order. It’s usually dead until lunch.
"Hey," Sokka says, leveling his gaze with a smile. "I can't help you right now, but someone will be able to soon," Sokka finishes, before turning to grab his bag from its usual hook by the door and walking away from that place for the last time. He doesn’t pay attention to the person’s reply.

Sokka wants to be confident with his choice to quit, but he can feel the regret sinking into him the further he walks away.

Sokka elects to skip his Intro to Art class, even though that won’t help the fact he’s already doing poorly. He struggles with art, he finds he’s not creative enough to make anything he can be proud of. He enjoys written arts like poetry, and he likes to draw architecture plans, but he hasn’t been able to apply either of those to his art class thus far.

Sokka walks through campus, heading to the gym, where the pool is. He often finds himself in the water to take his mind off things. Sokka sits in front of the locker he’d rented in the changing room by the pool and sends a quick text to his sister.

Sokka: i quit my job at the coffee place in the library, got any ideas?

He puts his phone in his locker instead of waiting for a reply and heads to the back door of the changing room, where it’s connected to the pool. Sokka is thankful for an indoor pool, it means he can swim year-round.

Sokka scans the pool for an open lane, finding one farthest from the door. He pulls his wolf tail out of its knot and reties it as low as he can, pulls on his swim cap and goggles, and dives into the pool without a splash.

Sokka starts his swim with a slow 1000 freestyle warm-up. He loses himself in the laps, and he’s not positive how many he swims. Sokka hates swimming anything other than freestyle in public, he feels a bit silly. After all, most people stick to freestyle for their workouts. His favorite stroke is butterfly, though. Unlike a stroke like breaststroke, where the movement is stiff and unnatural, butterfly is flowing and free. While it’s one of the more difficult strokes, Sokka loves the feeling of swimming it. He sneaks in a few laps of butterfly before switching back to freestyle. Climbing out of the pool, Sokka feels significantly more relaxed than when he first jumped in.

Sokka quickly towels off and makes his way back to the locker room. Sitting on the bench in front of his locker, Sokka looks through his phone. He has three texts from his sister and one from Toph, asking Sokka to describe a picture she found on Twitter.

Katara: I have a few ideas.
Katara: You could clean your room, for starters.

Katara: So what, you finally had enough of Jet?

Sokka will probably never get tired of his sister’s motherly tendencies and wit. It’s something they rarely talk about, how Katara stepped up after their mom passed away.

Sokka: aaanyways, you got any ideas for a new job?

Katara: Check with Student Resources, they offer a lot of jobs.

Sokka: sure, thanks katara

He then replies to Toph, doing his best to explain an image of a cow on a beach with the caption ‘Pain’.

Sokka passes on rinsing off after his swim, deciding he should go to the resource center before heading home. He quickly redresses and fixes his hair back to its usual topknot. After lacing up his sneakers, Sokka grabs his bag out of his locker, slings it over his shoulder, and leaves the locker room. Sokka scales down the hill near the gym to take the path through the forest to the Student Resource Center. The forest near the campus is one of his favorite things about the school. He likes to meet groups of people who hang out here. Some people use the forest as a place to practice their arts, be it painting or writing. Sometimes he sees people passing hacky sacks around or doing hula hoop tricks. It’s a serene environment, save for the music people sometimes play. There are people from all walks of life who congregate here, and it’s something Sokka enjoys about the school. There’s a place for everyone.

When Sokka enters the Student Resource Center, he notes several desks placed around the room. The one closest to the door has a sign overhead the person at the desk that reads ‘Student Disability Resources’ which is something Sokka didn’t even know the school offered. He makes his way past the disability resources to the desk for general resources. The guy sitting there looks up as Sokka approaches.

“Do you guys offer jobs on campus?” Sokka asks him.

He nods and hands Sokka a piece of paper with different job openings on it.

“The jobs are generally on a first come first serve basis, and the openings go quick, so come tomorrow with a resume and a few of your top picks. I can schedule an appointment with our job advisor tomorrow if you’d like,” he tells Sokka.

“That’d be great man, thanks! I’m free tomorrow any time after 11 am.”

“We have an open time for 11 on the dot, should I go ahead and put you down?”

Sokka’s last class ends at 11, but he can probably leave early or make a beeline afterward.

“Yeah, that sounds good, my name is Sokka Unalaq. Spelled with an S and an okka. Oh, and the last name is U-n-a-l-a-q,” he hopes the guy finds some humor in the way he spells it out.

The guys’ expression doesn’t change, but he’s typing what Sokka assumes is his name on the computer and looks back up at him. “You’re all set, have a good one.”

“Thanks,” Sokka says with a smile and stuffs the paper he was given into his backpack.

Sokka walks away from the desk, feeling good about a soon-to-be job change. He should probably call his advisor from the coffee shop and quit officially.

It’s gotten pretty late, so Sokka decides he should probably head home. He and Katara decided to get a place together when they started college, both of them wanting a little more freedom. Katara volunteers at an animal hospital in her free time, her schedule already filled up with classes and work.

On his way to the parking lot, he spots Aang and Toph sitting in the quad reading. Aang catches Sokka from across the quad, his eyes lighting up.

“Hi, Sokka!” Aang says excitedly, closing his book and setting it aside.

“Hey Aang, hey Toph, how’s it going?” Sokka smiles at him.

Toph lifts their hand from the book and waves in the direction Sokka’s voice came from.

“We’re good. Just getting our reading done for our next class,” Aang lifts his copy of Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. “Are you heading home?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta do some homework and pick out a job,” Sokka says, deflating a bit at all the work he has.

“You not working at the coffee place anymore? Dang, I loved the free coffee!” Toph laughs.

Sokka must have never mentioned what a pain his co-worker had been to him. “Yeah, I checked with the school today for some more on-campus jobs, I’ve got an interview tomorrow.”

“We won’t keep you, then. Sounds like you’ve got some work to do. Say hi to Katara for me,” Aang finishes with a blush.

“See you guys, good luck with the reading.”

Sokka walks away from them, feeling bad at how briefly he’d stuck around, but he’s glad Aang seemed understanding. Once he reaches the parking lot, Sokka scans for his car, trying to remember where he had parked. He spots his light blue beat-up Jeep Wrangler and makes his way over, rummaging in his bag for his keys. Once his hand locks around a cool metal, he pulls his keys out and unlocks the car. Tossing his bag in the passenger seat, Sokka plugs his phone into the aux and scrolls through his music before landing on Kids by The Frights. It’s a song he found recently, and enjoys the contradicting lyrics “I miss my mom” and “I hate my mom” which Sokka thinks can coexist. He sticks his keys in the ignition and clicks his volume up to 75% before whipping out of the school parking lot. Sokka and Katara weren’t able to find a place close to the school, so it’s a 25-minute drive to the neighboring city. Sokka pulls into their apartment’s designated parking space, and turns his car off, killing his music.

When he gets into their apartment, the first thing Sokka does is make a snack. He scarfs down his snack and heads to his room, flopping on his bed and kicking his shoes off. He remembers the paper in his backpack with all the job listings on it and pulls it out. He smooths the crinkles out and scans down the list. They’re all typical jobs you’d expect for a college campus. Dining hall line cook, dishwasher, paper filer, mail sorter/receptionist. Sokka has experience in food service, so he’d tick that off as one of his choices. He was told to pick a few, so he scanned down the list more, his eyes catching on an interesting job. A note-taker for a hard-of-hearing student. It doesn’t seem like a bad gig, he’s pretty good at taking notes. It’s something he could see himself doing. He wouldn’t have to worry about lazy coworkers either. He ticks that off as another choice along with mailing reception.

Sokka buckles down to get some homework done and to update his resume a bit. After working on an architecture assignment for a couple of hours, Sokka receives a text from his sister needing a ride from the animal hospital. He jumps off his bed, slips his shoes back on, and heads to his car. When he pulls up to the vet, Katara is standing on the curb looking at her phone. He gives his horn a quick tap to get her attention. Katara looks up, seeming a bit perturbed.

“I hate it when you don’t respond to my texts,” Katara says when she opens the door. “I was about to start walking,” she finishes.

“Sorry about that, I thought I made good time,” Sokka says, changing the song on his phone.

“Still, I want to have some sort of confirmation.”

“Right, I’ll do that next time.” He can understand her wanting a reply from him.

“Thanks for picking me up,” Katara says, facing the window.

They rode in silence for the rest of the way home.

When they got home, Katara went directly to her room and dropped her bag on the floor, but didn’t close the door.

“What do you want to make for dinner?” She asks him from the doorway.

“What do we have?” Sokka asks

“I’ll figure something out,” Katara says, walking back to the kitchen.

Katara makes amazing comfort food. It reminds him a lot of their mother’s cooking. After they eat, Sokka clears the table and tosses the dishes in the sink, deciding to wash them later.

“Thanks for dinner, Katara, I’ll see you in the morning,” Sokka says before retreating to his room for the night.

He stacks all his papers and shoves them into a blue folder. He throws on the worn, thigh-length tee-shirt he typically sleeps in and goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He’s looking forward to getting a good night of rest before his 9 am calculus class.

At 8 am, Sokka’s alarm goes off. He slams the snooze button on his phone and flips over. Unfortunately, 9 minutes pass quickly, and he has to get up. Sokka grabs a fresh pair of underwear and strolls to the bathroom to shower. He snags his toothbrush and sets it on his ledge in the shower. Standing under the warm water begins to wake him up, as he washes his hair and body. He brushes his teeth as he enjoys his final moments under the stream, and then spits out his toothpaste. He quickly washes his face and turns the water off. Sokka shivers from the temperature change and steps out of the shower. He wipes himself dry and pulls his underwear on before swinging the door open and lunging across the hallway to his room.

Sokka opens his closet and tries to decide what he should wear for his pseudo interview at the school. He’s sure he’ll walk away with a job today, but he wants to look good nonetheless. He settles on form-fitting black jeans and a blue button-up he left open to layer with a white v-neck t-shirt. He finishes the outfit with his signature red and blue mismatched converse. He’d gotten a set of red ones and a set of blue ones at a thrift store for 6 bucks a pair. He flashes himself a smile in the mirror and grabs his bag from the side of the bed before leaving the apartment.

On his way to school, Sokka settles on shuffling the album Talon of the Hawk by The Front Bottoms, not feeling awake enough to pick anything specific.

When Sokka reaches the school, he circles the parking lot for a parking space, luckily snagging one not too far from where he needs to go. He shuts off his car and grabs his bag, and makes his way to calculus.

Sokka generally likes math, but the class moves at a sluggish rate while he watches the clock. He needs to make sure to run to Student Resources as soon as class ends. As soon as the professor wraps up the class, Sokka is out the door. He fast walks the entire way to Student Resources and when he gets there, the guy from yesterday greets him from the desk.

“Hey! I’m glad you made it,” he says with a smile, “go ahead and sit down.”

Sokka flops into a seat, and debates on pulling out his phone to kill time. He figures it’ll look better if he doesn’t do that. Thankfully, someone comes out to greet him not long after he sits. He walks over to the desk and exchanges a quick word with the receptionist who helped him, before approaching Sokka. He stands up to greet the man.

“Hi Sokka, I’m one of the job advisors here on campus. You can call me Chey,” he says, shaking Sokka’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Sokka says politely.
“My office is this way.”

Sokka follows him to a small office with a desk and two chairs in front of it. He settles into one, and Chey closes the door before sitting down opposite Sokka.

“I’ll take a look at your resume. Do you have a few ideas of where you’d like to work on campus?”

“Yes! I have experience working with food so I was thinking food prep would be a good fit,” Sokka says, trying not to sound too stiff. He hands Chey his resume and the paper with job listings he’d marked on.

“That’s a fine choice, and your resume reflects that. I notice you’ve marked note-taker. Is that another job you’d be interested in?” Chey asks, tapping the paper.

“Yeah, it popped out to me because I never knew that was a thing,” Sokka hopes that was a good way to phrase it.

“Well, I’ll pull up your schedule and see if it’s compatible with the other student. You’re both first years, so there’s a good chance you’ll be a fit,” Chey looks at his computer for a moment, his eyes flicking back and forth. “You share a few classes, and you have otherwise staggering schedules. To be frank, this is a position we’d like to fill as soon as possible. Would you like to do it?” Chey levels his gaze with Sokka’s.

Sokka thinks about it and decides helping someone out seems like a pretty good job.

“Yeah, I think I’d like to do that,”

“Great, I’ll send you the student’s email so you two can connect. I’ll warn you that this job can be a bit overwhelming, and I wouldn’t want you to fall behind on your studies,” Chey says. “Before I forget, do you have any sample notes on you?”

“Right, I think it’ll be okay. I have some in my bag, one sec,” Sokka feels a little nervous to show off his notes, and he flicks through some pages to find his neatest ones. He hands a few to Chey.

Chey briefly scans over the notes before handing them back to Sokka.

“They look good. Now to discuss the pay…”

Sokka walks out of the Student Resource Center with an email, a schedule, and a name. He wonders what kind of person he’ll be taking notes for.

Chapter Text

When Zuko wakes up, he wants to throw his platform docs out of the window. Both of his legs are throbbing with pain, and he hasn’t even moved yet. Zuko reaches up above his headboard for his pain medication and accidentally knocks them over so they fall in the crack behind his headboard. Zuko slumps back into his bed and feels tears of hot anger burn his eyes. Several emotions flow through him, and he’s not sure what he feels. He remembers his first class of the day is communications, and he comes to the conclusion that he won’t be going to school. Part of him wants to call out to Uncle for help, and the other part wants to curl up and dissolve.

Zuko feels his phone buzz, and he pats around in his bed until he finds it. He has a few news notifications and an email. Zuko presses on the email notification and finds that it’s from a student address. Zuko feels dread seep into his bones as he reads the message.

Hey Zuko,

My name is Sokka and I’m the person who will be taking notes for you. I notice we both have the same communications class today, and I’m wondering if you want to sit together. Anyways, I’ll be waiting for you outside the lecture hall. I’m wearing a Gorillaz tee.

See you soon, Sokka

He didn’t expect the school to find someone so quickly. He regrets wearing his docs yesterday even more. That must be the universe’s way of telling him he shouldn’t even try to look good. Zuko decides he should probably respond to Sokka, and he types and deletes a message several times before settling on:

Sokka,

Thanks for reaching out. I’ll see you in class.

Zuko

His message seems too short, but he’s not sure what else to say. Zuko breathes out with a sigh, he’ll have to ask for Uncle’s help.

“Uncle! I dropped my pain meds,” Zuko yells from his bed. It wasn’t long before Uncle cracks the door open, and then fully enters.

‘Where did they drop, Zuko?’ he signs.

‘Behind the headboard. Pain is bad today, I can’t get them myself,’ Zuko signs, feeling full to the brim of shame.

‘Nothing to worry about, Nephew,’ Uncle signs, getting down on a knee before reaching behind the headboard.

Zuko nods a thank you when Uncle hands him the medication. He watches Uncle slowly raise back to his feet, and Zuko can’t help but feel as though he’s far too old to be taking care of him.

‘Call again if you need anything else, Nephew,’ Uncle signs, before leaving Zuko’s room and closing the door behind him.

Zuko takes his pain killers and closes his eyes. Today is probably going to suck.

Sokka is waiting in front of his comm class when a guy with a nasty-looking scar on the side of his face approaches him. He’s wearing a deep red turtleneck and a pair of loose, flowing black pants. He would be a good-looking guy if it weren't for the plastered-on scowl.

"Sokka. Gorillaz tee," he blurts out with no other explanation.

It takes Sokka a moment to tear his eyes away from the scar and register what the guy has said to him. His voice is deep and a bit scratchy.

"Oh! You've gotta be Zuko! Good to meet you," Sokka says, hoping Zuko hadn't noticed him staring. If he had, Sokka wouldn't be able to tell, because his expression doesn’t change from the scowl.

"You too," he says simply.

"Let's head in then, after you," Sokka says with a forced smile, opening the door.

Zuko walks into the class, and as Sokka turns to see if there's anyone behind him before he lets go of the door, he locks eyes with Jet.

"Hey Zuko," Jet says, a smirk on his face, but his eyes don't leave Sokka’s. Sokka watches for a moment as Jet walks away.

Of course, Zuko is friends with Jet. It seems Zuko hadn’t paid notice to Jet's greeting, as he is already selecting a spot near the front when Sokka catches up.

Sokka is a little put off by Zuko. He seems stiff, and Sokka isn't sure if he wants to work with another person who will pick fights with him.

Sokka puts that out of his mind as the professor starts the class. He's taking notes for two now, and they have to be good.

Zuko doesn't speak or look at Sokka the entire class, his attention glued to what's happening in the front. Sokka isn't sure what the point of Zuko even being here is. if he can't take his own notes, he must not be absorbing much from the class.

After an hour and a half, the professor dismisses them and reminds them of the homework posted online.

"Do you wanna go to the library with me and make a copy of my notes?" Sokka asks Zuko before they leave the classroom.

Zuko looks at Sokka and simply nods, looking even more exhausted than when they first entered the class.

Sokka starts up the stairs to the exit, Zuko following a couple of paces behind. As the two of them make their way to the library, Sokka notes how far Zuko walks behind him. Sokka's brain helpfully provides him several reasons for this, but he's pretty sure it's his anxiety making an appearance.

When they get to the library, Zuko looks wrecked. He spills into the closest seat and glances up at Sokka through his bangs.

"Do you mind if I sit while you make a copy? I'm not feeling great," Zuko says.

Sokka grunts a yes, and walks over to the copier alone. He lays his notebook onto the scanner and presses the button for one copy. When the paper is done being printed, Sokka walks back over to Zuko and drops into the chair across from him, startling him.

"Sorry," Sokka says, sliding the paper over to Zuko.

Zuko looks over the notes and then lays the copy back on the table.

"These are not very good," Zuko says with almost no emotion behind his words.

Sokka feels himself bristle and has to bite his tongue before he fires back something about how Zuko probably couldn't do any better. Zuko must have noticed a change in his demeanor because he quickly corrects himself.

"No! No, sorry. What I mean is- uh, the notes are good, seriously, but your abbreviations are a bit hard for me to understand..." Zuko trails off, his eyes looking everywhere except at Sokka. Gone was the cool guy who scowled and couldn't be seen walking with Sokka. The boy who sits in front of him seems much more vulnerable than the one Sokka had known minutes prior.

"Oh, that's okay man, seriously. Everyone has their own style. I'll try to make my notes a little more comprehensible to outside viewers from now on." Sokka means what he says.

Zuko looks worried, so Sokka keeps talking.

"Really, it is my job after all. Thanks for letting me know," Sokka says, feeling like he'd gotten off on the wrong foot with Zuko.

"Thank you," Zuko says, placing the tips of his fingers on his lips, and then moving his hand away, towards Sokka. Zuko’s eyes widen as if he had done something wrong and he quickly drops his hand to his lap.

Sokka isn’t sure what the gesture means. "You're welcome. When is your next class? I haven’t memorized your schedule," Sokka says.

“My last class is at 2,” Zuko says.

“If you want we can, you know, go over the notes together? I can start catching you up with the class so far,” Sokka almost feels shy asking this, not sure if Zuko wants to spend the next thirty minutes with him.

Zuko looks at him for a moment before replying, “yes, yeah that’d be really great, thank you, Sokka.”

Zuko looks down at the copy of Sokka’s notes, his eyes scanning slowly over the page. Zuko pulls his phone out, most likely to check the homework online. He chews his lip as his eyes flick back and forth between the page and his phone. Sokka finds his concentration a little endearing. Sokka’s phone buzzes and he sees it’s a text from Katara when he pulls it out. She needs a ride from work to school. Sokka had forgotten to mention to Katara he’s taking notes for someone, so his schedule at school is a bit different now. It was on him for not letting her know that because she depends on him for lifts.

“Hey Zuko, I’m really sorry but I need to get my sister, we’ll be back in like, 20 minutes I swear,” Sokka says, but Zuko doesn’t look up or respond. It hits Sokka suddenly that he’d forgotten why he was here, why he was taking notes for this guy in the first place. He can’t hear well. Sokka thinks of all the times he’d probably spoken quickly or bunched his words together, and this realization hits him like a truck. Zuko might have been struggling to keep up with Sokka, that’s probably why he’d been so short with him, and unfocused.

Sokka stretches his arm out and softly taps the table in front of Zuko as not to startle him.

“Zuko, I need to pick up my sister and take her to school. 20 minutes, I swear,” Sokka tries to speak clearly and concisely.

“Sure, okay. I’ll meet you in class,” Zuko gives him a small smile, which is the softest Sokka has seen him look all day.

Sokka grabs his bag and takes off. He has to get Katara and get back on time for Zuko’s class. When he gets to his car, he sends a quick text to Katara, telling her that he’s on his way and in a hurry.

When he screeches into the parking lot of her workplace, Katara is standing on the curb waiting, and ready to hop in the car.

“Thanks for getting me. Why are you in such a hurry?” Katara asks, buckling herself in.
“I forgot to tell you, I started a new job taking notes for someone at school, so I’ll be on his schedule. I’ll tell you more about it later,” Sokka says, eyeing the time on his car’s center console. Thankfully, the ice cream place Katara works at is close to the school.

When they pull up to school, Sokka circles the parking lot, but his previous spot is already taken. His armpits start to feel sweaty, and he worries he won’t find a spot before Zuko’s class starts. He decides to drive out to the street and try his luck with the curb. Katara spots a slot between two cars, and Sokka sighs at the idea of parallel parking into such a small space.

When Sokka turns the engine off, he’s already late for Zuko’s class. “You can go, Katara. I gotta check what room I need to go to,” he says, pulling out the folder he’d put Zuko’s schedule in.

“Okay, Sokka. Try not to worry yourself too much,” Katara says, jumping out of the car.

Once he figures out what room he needs to get to, Sokka books it to the Department of English. Fast walking through the halls, Sokka scans the numbers on each door to find which room Zuko is in. When he finally spots the one he’s looking for, Sokka slowly cracks the door open and tries to enter quietly. Zuko is sitting in the middle, on the far side of the classroom. The professor pays no mind to Sokka’s entrance and only a few people look his way. Zuko has a backpack on the seat next to him, probably to save it for Sokka. When he gets closer, Zuko’s head whips up, and he grabs his backpack, setting it on the floor under his chair. Sokka wants to apologize to Zuko, but he also doesn’t want to talk while the professor is giving a lecture. He decides it’s best to start taking notes now and to apologize after the class.

Sokka finds a new difficulty in taking notes for a class that is one year ahead of him. He’s impressed Zuko is taking an English 2 class, the guy must’ve worked hard in high school. Sokka’s hand is sore by the end of the lecture because he has to write more than he usually would. He has a hard time picking out what information is necessary, and his decision to use fewer abbreviations for Zuko only meant more writing. When the professor wraps up the lecture, there’s still more time left, so she assigns the homework and gives everyone the rest of the class to work.

There’s low murmuring while people begin working, but the class is mostly quiet. Zuko is looking at Sokka expectantly. Sokka doesn’t think Zuko would be able to hear him if he were to whisper, so he writes a little message on the notes he’d taken before passing the paper to Zuko.

Zuko’s eyes immediately flick down to the end of the page, reading Sokka’s apology before giving him a small, warm-eyed smile that doesn’t show his teeth. He couldn’t help but think that kind, timid smile suited Zuko a lot.

Sokka watches Zuko pull his laptop out to work.

“You don’t have to stay, this is my last class,” Zuko says, his voice a low rumble.

“Oh, right,” Sokka says, maybe a little too loud. He quickly pulls out a piece of paper, and writes his phone number on it, with a note telling Zuko to text him if he has any questions. Zuko takes it and nods at him.

Sokka leaves the class, and makes his way to the forest, feeling like he should have stayed. Sokka plans to walk to the gym where he usually swims laps until Katara’s last class. On his way through the forest, he spots Jet hanging out with his friends on a large fallen tree near the path.

“Hey, Sokka. How’s it going? I miss working with you,” Jet says, jumping off the log. His friends are chatting and messing around behind him.

“I’m okay Jet, but I can’t say the same,” Sokka feels like he runs into this guy way too often.

“That’s so mean.” Jet doesn’t look very hurt, though. “I saw you with Zuko earlier, I didn’t know you guys were friends,” he adds on.

“We’re not really, I’m just taking notes for him. Are you two friends?”

“We had a thing earlier this semester. He’s hot but he’s not really relationship material,” Jet says with a hint of malice in his voice.

The way Jet says it makes Sokka feel strangely defensive for a guy he’d only just met.

“Whatever, Jet. I think it’s rude to toy with him the way you did earlier. If you talk to him, you should make sure he can actually hear you. Though, I think it’d be better if you didn’t talk to him at all,” Sokka says, straightening out his shoulders.

“Is that supposed to be a threat? I thought you weren’t friends,” Jet says.

Sokka doesn’t say anything else, he just walks away. His head feels hot as he makes his way up the hill to the gym. Jet never fails to get under his skin, and Sokka feels like he needs this swim more now than he did before. Sokka quickly gets into his swimsuit and finds a lane easily. The pool isn’t busy this late in the day. He dives in and immediately starts swimming. He can already feel his mind calming down as he reaches the other side of the pool, and flips around, kicking off with his feet. Sokka doesn’t know how many laps he swims, but he can feel the exhaustion sink in as he climbs out of the pool. He makes his way back to the locker room and checks the time, deciding he can rinse off before picking his sister up from her class. After he showers, he dries off and gets dressed, sending a text to Katara that he’ll be at her class when she gets out.

Sokka decides not to take the forest path this time, even though there’s a good chance Jet isn’t there anymore. It’s quicker to cut across campus anyways, to get to the lecture hall Katara is in. Sokka’s mind wanders back to Zuko, he’s an interesting character, and Sokka probably judged him a little too harshly. From now on though, he should probably make a habit of taking notes on his laptop. His hand is sore, and it’ll probably be easier to share the notes he takes through email.

Sokka arrives at Katara’s building right when she walks out. He waves at her, and she walks over, the two of them settling in pace to Sokka’s car.

“How was your day Katara?” Sokka asks.

“It was nice, I had lunch with Aang, and we studied together for a bit. How was your first day in the note-taking business?”

“It was good,” Sokka says, unlocking the car as they approach. They both climb in, and Katara grabs the aux. “This guy - Zuko - he’s pretty weird. He’s got, like, buckets full of emotion but I can’t get a read on him at all,” Sokka says, scrubbing his face before turning the car on and placing his hands on the steering wheel. “The note-taking isn’t too bad either, I enjoyed doing it. It feels like I’m doing something that matters.”

“I’m glad you like doing it, and I’m proud of you for helping someone,” Katara says.

“Well, it’s not like I’m not getting paid.”

“Ha-ha, but still. Maybe you’ll make a friend,”

When they get back to their apartment complex, Katara drops her things in her room and makes her way to the kitchen. Sokka flops onto the couch and flicks the tv on, but he can’t stop thinking about what Katara said about making a new friend. Would Zuko want to be friends?

Surprisingly, the day had not sucked. Zuko is glad he’d sucked it up and gone to school because when he gets home, he has two full pages of notes, and he can finally do his homework thoroughly.

Sokka seems like a nice guy, but Zuko had to try pretty hard not to be intimidated by how good-looking he is. He tended to talk quickly, and Zuko hadn’t been able to bring himself to ask him to talk more slowly. Despite that, it seemed like Sokka had made adjustments to his speech without him asking. It had been a small gesture of kindness Zuko isn’t used to.

When Zuko finishes the bulk of his homework, Uncle is already upstairs getting started on dinner. He walks over to the counter where Uncle is chopping some veggies and asks if he can help. He turns around to greet Zuko.

“Hello, nephew,” Uncle says, handing Zuko the knife he’d been using. ‘How was your day?’ he finishes in sign language, before walking to the fridge for some other ingredients.

Zuko starts chopping, “it was good, Uncle. The school has already hired someone to take notes for me. He’s nice,” Zuko says.

“I am happy to hear that. I am sure school will be much easier from now on,” Uncle says.

“I already feel better about it,” Zuko answers happily, his heart leaping at his newly kindled excitement for school.

Zuko and Iroh move around each other in the kitchen, his Uncle staying on his good side as they prepare dinner together. This sort of homely-ness is something Zuko wishes he’d always had, and he’ll spend the rest of his life making sure his uncle knows how grateful he is for it.

“Don’t worry about dishes, Uncle,” Zuko says after they finish eating.

Iroh signs a thank you to Zuko before settling on the couch with his tea. Zuko settles next to him after he finishes washing up, the tv illuminating the room. Uncle is admiring a red pot with an intricate gold design on Antique Roadshow. He’d found the show not long ago, and since it airs later in the day, it’s become a perfect way for the both of them to wind down at the end of the day.

Zuko turns in first and elects to skip brushing his teeth. It’s a habit he’s not trying to develop, but for some reason sometimes it just feels like a task he can’t bring himself to do. Zuko throws off his clothes and crawls into bed, sinking into the mattress with a satisfied sigh. He shuts his eyes and lets his aching body relax as he attempts to clear his mind. Falling asleep is hard for him, but clearing his mind is something he’s been practicing for almost a year now. He’s gotten better at not letting himself spiral when he’s no longer focused on anything. It’s a small triumph, but a testament to his ability to heal.

Zuko wakes up before the sun rises. He’s exhausted, but it gives him time to build up to getting out of bed. His pain has been subdued to an ache he can live with. Zuko takes his medications, not even paying attention to what bottles he’s grabbing. He lays in bed for at least another 30 minutes, repeatedly trying to convince himself to get up.

'Get up you lazy piece of- ' Zuko begins to sign to himself, but his hands fall to his lap before he can finish. That’s not the mindset he should have.

Instead, he gives himself more time to relax. The art of relaxing is something Uncle taught him. Doing nothing still gives Zuko anxiety, it sometimes makes him feel like he’s 15 again, waiting for his father to come home.

Eventually, what gets Zuko out of bed is remembering he hadn’t brushed his teeth the night before, and the anxiety he has about his teeth rotting begins to set in.

Zuko walks to the bathroom to do his business. He decides to shower because he’ll be helping Uncle in the shop today.

When he leaves the bathroom, Uncle’s door is open. Zuko goes to his room to get dressed. He puts on a grey turtleneck and ripped black jeans. He pulls out his pair of black New Balances before sitting on his bed and lacing them up. He cuffs his jeans and stands up, going to the kitchen to start the rice cooker and put on a pot of tea. The bathroom door is closed when he passes by. When Uncle comes out into the kitchen, Zuko sets the tea on the table and gestures for him to sit down. Uncle sits and pours himself some tea.
‘This is good, Nephew,’ he signs.

Zuko signs a thank you, turning around to continue cooking breakfast. He cracks two eggs on a pan, salting and peppering them lightly. While they cook, he clicks off the rice cooker and scoops two helpings into some bowls. He pulls out some shredded nori and tops the eggs, turning the heat off and laying them over the rice bowls. It’s a simple meal, but it’s one of his favorites for breakfast. He places one bowl in front of Uncle with a pair of chopsticks and then sits across him with his own.

After they finish their meal, Zuko takes the bowls to the sink and washes them quickly, deciding to leave the hot pan on the stove to wash later. The two head downstairs to start the process of opening the shop. When everything is prepped, Zuko goes to the door to flip the sign to ‘open’.

It’s not long until people start coming in for the usual morning rush. Zuko handles the back while Iroh rings in people’s orders. Zuko prefers to work the register during their less busy times, as he has an easier time hearing orders without the bustling. Zuko hands out drinks, receiving a ‘thank you’ in sign language from almost all the customers they get. Uncle had made a sign that reads “Say ‘thank you!’” with basic instructions on how to say it in sign language. It’s something that embarrassed Zuko for a long time, but Uncle had convinced him sign language should be used by all, and he shouldn’t be ashamed of his deafness. Zuko still has trouble telling people about his disability, he still sees it as a weakness even after all the time he’s spent working on those insecurities.

When the rush dies down, Uncle goes to the backroom to start baking more pastries and Zuko busies himself with wiping surfaces down and washing dishes. He makes sure to check the register every once in a while, just to make sure nobody has walked up without him noticing. The door swings open, and Zuko is surprised to see Sokka.

“Zuko!” Sokka looks just as surprised to see him. “I didn’t know you work here,” he says.

“Yeah, I work here,” Zuko says, setting down the cup he’d been washing. “Usually only on weekends, though. I help my uncle out with the shop.”

“... Iroh your uncle? Man, I love …, seriously, he … advice. I love talking with him,” Zuko does his best to read Sokka’s lips, but he’s talking fast and he can’t parse much of what he says.

“Yeah, Iroh, he’s pretty great,” Zuko replies, cringing a little at his lack of ability to continue a conversation.

As if on cue, Iroh walks out from the back. He walks to the register to stand next to Zuko.

“Ah, Sokka, welcome. I don’t usually see you this early,” he says, signing as he talks to include Zuko.

Sokka watches his hands for a moment before replying, “yeah, … up early to … sister to work. It’s … here, so … some boba before going home,” he says. Zuko wishes he could understand all that Sokka is saying. He understands enough, but Sokka isn’t enunciating the same as he was the day before. Sokka’s eyes flit over to Zuko, his expression changing ever so slightly.

“Zuko, can I have a Thai tea with boba?”

Zuko understands what he says, nodding before ringing him up. He turns around to make the drink, while Iroh continues chatting with Sokka.

Sokka had gone and done it again, he’d made that change in the way he speaks to accommodate Zuko. At least, he assumes that’s what it was. It makes him feel warm inside as he wonders what he'd done to deserve such regard. Iroh passes by Zuko as he’s making Sokka’s drink, and when he turns around with the drink, Sokka is looking at the sign sitting on the ready-to-go counter.

“Thai tea with boba,” Zuko says, handing it to him.

Sokka looks up and takes his drink, placing his fingertips on his lips with a smile before moving his flat hand outwards to Zuko.