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“I’m not him, you know.”
Zuko sighed, gaze fixated on the rippling reflection of the moon in the water. From the corner of his eye, he could see the ethereal glow outlining the spirit sitting next to him.
“I know,” Zuko replied softly.
Lifting his gaze from the water, Zuko turned to face the spirit. Even though he knew that this wasn’t his Sokka, he looked just like him. Snow white hair tied back into that short ponytail, a few small braids with beads decorating them. The glittering earrings that had adorned his ears, the silver jewelry matching the choker around his neck. His near crystalline blue eyes that glowed in the moonlight, the ones that looked multi-colored if you stared into them for too long.
That last part was what gave it away. That this wasn’t his Sokka. Sokka’s eyes had been blue, but they were a solid blue. Eyes like chipped ice, matching the blue undertones in the icebergs that surrounded the North Pole. Meeting his gaze was like a blast of cold air to the face—it brought heat to Zuko’s cheeks and set his heart racing.
This Sokka’s eyes were different. They were icy blue, but it was more than that. There were also shades of deep purples and jewel greens, soft pinks and shades of shimmering turquoise. The colors swirled and changed when you locked eyes with this Sokka, and it reminded Zuko of the bright lights that danced in the sky during some of the coldest months in the North Pole.
His eyes were beautiful. But they reminded Zuko that this wasn’t him. This was the moon spirit. The one that Sokka had given his life to revive.
Sighing again, Zuko turned away from the moon spirit and looked back down at the water. Even though he was so far from the North Pole now that he was back in the Fire Nation, he could still see the Spirit Oasis perfectly in his mind's eye. The way the moon disappeared from the reflection of the water, plunging the entire night into darkness. Even with the ocean spirit still swimming in the small pool, the water had been eerily still.
“Are you okay?” The spirit asked, his voice laced with concern.
Zuko squeezed his eyes shut. The spirit sounded just like him as well.
“Yes, I’m fine,” he answered.
“You don’t seem fine,” the spirit told him.
Clenching the hem of his robes in his fists, Zuko took a measured breath, trying to remember his breathing practices. It was so hard not to think back to that night. To try and not think of all the ways that could have gone differently. Zuko could’ve helped, but he’d been so blind. He protected Sokka, because that’s what he thought was most important. He didn’t realize the real target was the moon spirit until it was too late. Protecting Sokka had meant nothing, because he ended up losing him anyway.
“I guess I’m just wondering something,” Zuko said after a few moments, releasing the fabric from his hands.
“I’ll do my best to answer any questions you have,” the spirit replied, hands folded in his lap.
“Why do you come down here to visit me so often? Don’t you have more important things to do? Like being the moon spirit and all?” Zuko asked, forcing himself to look at the spirit once more.
A small smile crossed the spirit’s face, and it made Zuko’s heart clench.
“I’m not him, but there’s a part of him inside of me,” the spirit replied. “That means I care for you the same way he did. I don’t like seeing you lonely or upset, so I do what I can to help you.”
Wincing, Zuko nodded. “So you love me?” He asked in a hoarse voice.
“I do. So if there’s ever anything you need from me, anything I can do to help you, just tell me. I’ll always be here for you, Zuko.” The way the moon spirit said this… it was different than how he normally spoke.
One of the main differences between Sokka and the moon spirit was the way they spoke. Sokka’s voice had swooped and rose with different pitches and tones, a melody perfectly reflecting whatever emotion he was feeling at any point in time. The spirit’s voice was the exact opposite. It was the same voice, but there was no rise and fall. Only a flat tone that was imbued with kindness, but nothing more.
But in this moment… his voice had dipped. It was subtle, but Sokka could hear the edges of his words blur into something softer. He said he’d always be there for Zuko. Because just like Sokka, he loved him.
For the past few months, since Zuko had returned to the Fire Nation, the moon spirit had been appearing to him at random times. The first time it happened, he had materialized in a patch of moonlight that had fallen onto the floor of Zuko’s room, and Zuko had thought he was hallucinating. But then, the spirit kept appearing at random. Usually when he was alone at night, if Zuko was ever feeling down or lonely, the spirit would materialize beside him and the two would spend time together. Sometimes they would talk, sometimes they would just sit in silence. The spirit always let Zuko decide how their interactions went, and for that, Zuko was grateful.
But there was something sorely missing. Besides the fact that he didn’t talk like Sokka, something else Zuko had found himself yearning for was Sokka’s touch. Sokka had always been a very physical person. From resting his chin on Zuko’s shoulder, to wrapping his arms around his waist from behind, to just reaching out to brush pieces of lint off of Zuko’s robes. They had been small gestures, but it meant something else to Zuko. Everyone in the Fire Nation regarded Zuko with a kind of fragility he hated. As if they were both simultaneously scared of hurting the scarred prince, and loathe to touch him at the same time. A warped piece of stained glass. Fascinating to look at, but something that should be left for display only.
Sokka had never treated Zuko like that. He touched Zuko freely, and Zuko had relished in it. But the moon spirit never touched Zuko.
Well, save for one time.
There had been several assassination attempts on his Uncle’s life since he had taken up the mantle of Fire Lord, but with the most recent one, the assassin had gotten lost in the palace and ended up in Zuko’s room instead. Before Zuko had even gotten the chance to get out of bed, the moon spirit had appeared in front of him, using one hand to push Zuko back down into his pillows, and the other to waterbend a pair of shackles for the assassin. When the guards came rushing in moments later, the spirit had disappeared.
Up until that point, Zuko hadn’t even known if he could touch the moon spirit. But the hand that had pressed against his chest had felt solid and cool. Just like Sokka had.
Zuko missed that touch. The fact that the moon spirit never touched him, always keeping a space between them when they sat together… it was a physical ache in his chest.
“What can I do to make you happier, Zuko?” The moon spirit asked when Zuko was silent for several minutes. “I’m not Sokka, but I can try to be more like him if you would want me to.”
Zuko blinked, another sharp pain shooting down his chest. “You don’t have to do that. Not if you don’t want to.”
“I just want you to be happy,” The spirit told him.
There was a moment where he stared at the spirit, considering. This wasn’t his Sokka, and he had to keep reminding himself of that. But he missed Sokka so badly, it was nearly impossible to get through the day. Everything made him think of Sokka. Food he would like, jewelry he would wear, jokes that would make him laugh. He saw Sokka in every aspect of his life.
It hurt so much to spend his days pretending like there wasn’t a hole in his heart. And Zuko was tired. So unbelievably tired.
“Just for tonight,” Zuko whispered, staring at his lap. “Can… can you hold me?”
There was a moment of silence. And then, Zuko heard the spirit shift beside him. Suddenly, the spirit was sitting in front of Zuko, arms wrapping around his waist and pulling Zuko’s head into his shoulder. Zuko immediately leaned into the embrace, wrapping his arms around the spirit and burying his face in the soft fabric of his robes. The spirit’s arms were cool, but not icy. Instead, they were cool in a way that calmed him. The cool seeped through the heat of his robes, calming his racing heart as Zuko let out a shaky breath.
“I’m here,” the spirit whispered into his ear, trailing fingers up and down his spine. “I’ll always be here for you. I never left you.” Leaning down, the spirit pressed a kiss to the top of Zuko’s head, and a shiver ran down his spine.
Zuko’s eyes began to burn with tears, and he didn’t try to stop them. His breaths shuddered as he silently cried into the spirit’s shoulder, and the spirit just continued to trace patterns into Zuko’s spine while whispering soft reassurances in his ear, occasionally pressing a kiss into his hair.
It wasn’t Sokka. But just for tonight, Zuko could pretend.