Korra had never been particularly good at expressing her feelings. In hindsight, that probably explained why she and Mako had been doomed to failure. She knew that she was hotheaded and stubborn and that she had a tendency to be blunt to a fault. But had rarely been one for lashing out at others for things that they could not control. Korra was not a blamer. However, she couldn't seem to process emotions properly anymore. Everything was so…jumbled.
She had felt unbearably ashamed after she had lashed out at Katara for not being able to heal her and had immediately apologized. It wasn't the old woman's fault. It wasn't anyone's fault really. Except for Zaheer. Korra's eyes stung and she buried her face in her hands, "I'm trying to figure out why this happened to me. Nothing makes any sense. I'm tired Katara. I'm so tired."
The healer crossed over to her and kneeled in front of the wheel chair, "Korra, I know you feel alone right now, but you're not the first Avatar to have to overcome great suffering." She took Korra's hands in her own, her face growing more serious as she met the young Avatar's gaze. "Can you imagine how much pain Aang felt when he learned that his entire culture was taken from him?"
Korra looked at wooden floor of the hut, "That must have been so awful."
Katara squeezed her hands and smiled softly, continuing in earnest. "But he never let it destroy his spirit. He chose to find meaning in his suffering and, eventually, found peace."
Korra was silent for a moment. Her voice was weak when she finally spoke, "And what am I going to find if I get through this?"
Katara smiled, "I don't know. But won't it be interesting to find out?"
After the healing session, Korra found herself sitting at her desk staring at the most recent stack of unread letters that her mother had been piling on the corner. The stacks had been shrinking as time had gone by. It was probably because she hadn't replied to any of her friends' letters in nearly two years. She couldn't blame them for not writing as frequently as they used to. But the girl hadn't had the heart to even look at them as of late; to read about how her friends were out there serving the world like she ought to be. She was proud of them, she really was, but she was bitter. Korra was proud. She had always been the strong one; the one that everyone could look to in times of need. Korra was the Avatar.
She scoffed. "Was" indeed. What good was an Avatar that was so haunted by a phantom of herself that she became so deeply petrified every time it appeared that she broke down? What good was an Avatar who had run away, who had isolated herself? What good was an Avatar who couldn't even go into the Avatar State? Was she even the Avatar at all anymore?
Well, yes, technically she was. And it was about time that she started to act like it. More so, at least.
Korra reached for the stack of letters and rested her hand on top of it. The textured envelopes were rough and dry beneath her fingertips. She slid the top one off of the pile and grasped it squarely in her hands before carefully reading the envelope. The script was loose and uneven, clearly Bolin's handwriting. She smiled at the envelope, remembering his annoying – no, endearing – boyish cheer and spectacularly positive outlook on literally everything. Her fingers ran up the back of the envelope but stopped upon reaching the seal. Was she ready to face reality again? Korra knew what he would say: he would share a long, rambling, albeit grandiose, account of his "service" to Lady Kuvira and her mission of reuniting the Earth Kingdom. He would tell her that he missed her and that he was doing his best to assist in whatever way he could so that she could be afforded the opportunity to finish recovering. He'd probably add drawings.
She put the envelope aside and reached for another. This one had Mako's efficient scribbling on the front; he never really was one for words. She shuffled through a few from Tenzin and the kids before placing them to the side as well. It hadn't been the best conversation with Tenzin the last time that they'd seen each other. Korra had failed to prove to that she was ready to return to her city, to her life. She didn't need to dwell on that particular failure right now.
She arrived at the last letter. From the elegant off-white parchment alone she didn't need to guess who it was from. Neat, precise calligraphy addressed the letter to her. Asami. Korra hesitated before lifting the envelope and weighing it carefully in her hands. It felt heavy. Staring at the envelope she felt a pull in her chest and pulse quickened. This was not the first time that this pull had occurred when holding one of Asami's letters. One of the downsides of being bound within the walls of the compound yet again was that it had allowed for her to have plenty of time to think. The Avatar had carefully mulled over and dissected every aspect of her friendship with Asami. By now, Korra had recalled and cataloged every seemingly mundane interaction and conversation and replayed it in her head thousands of times, but she still could not exactly identify the cause of her reaction. It was probably because she missed her best friend.
And she did miss Asami. Perhaps more than she had expected to. Korra missed the way that she always felt so secure around the heiress, like she didn't have to try to be anyone other than Korra. Perhaps it was because when kind and wonderful Asami had been helping to care for her she had never felt pitied, only loved and supported. She often thought about how she should have accepted the engineer's offer to accompany her. But no, it wouldn't have been right to use her in that way. She had a huge multinational company to run, a city to rebuild. It would have been wrong to have asked Asami to leave everything behind just because she was too weak to do something on her own. But Asami had looked so sad when Korra had told her no…
But none of that mattered now. Without thinking, she hastily tore open the packet overriding her curious anxiety. Or was it excitement? Never mind. The letter was violently ripped from the remaining confines of the envelope and unfolded. The note was written on a scrap piece of paper and looked as if it had been crumpled and smoothed several times before being neatly folded into the expensive envelope. Asami's precise handwriting was easily legible despite the smeared ink and angry wrinkles.
Dear Korra,
I'm not entirely sure what to say. Things are going fine around here, I suppose. My company just got the big transportation upgrade contract that I mentioned in my previous letters. We'll be redesigning the train station and upgrading the rail lines further into the Earth Kingdom. Raiko thinks that the railway expansion will help Kuvira improve her supply lines as she continues to "bring peace" to the region. There have been mummers though that not everything is as it seems. I only hope that time will prove her to be a benevolent being. I don't want history to remember me as an arms dealer.
I miss you. I feel like I've said that in every letter I've written to you but it isn't any less true. Things aren't the same without you here. There is a picture of us on my desk. I'm not sure that you've seen it. Do you remember that time when we went to that investment gala that my company hosted a few months after we took down Amon? Well, you probably don't because you dragged all of us out of there after only being there for a few minutes. You had said that you were tired of the reporters and you didn't like how they kept grilling me about my father and the future of the company. Instead you took us to Republic City Park (I lobbied that they change it to Avatar Korra Park, I hope that's okay) and we just spent time together. The picture was taken by a passing reporter. I think it was Mako who chased the guy down and forced him to hand over the film. I don't think I ever thanked you for saving me from my own gala that night. I really hope you can see the picture for yourself soon.
I hope after all this time you still remember how much you mean to all of us. I hope that you remember what I told you before you left because I meant it.
I'm always here if you need anything.
Love,
Asami
Korra read the letter again. She did remember that night. If being completely honest, she had been worried and jealous that Asami, all dressed up for the gala, would make Mako change his mind about having picked the Avatar over the heiress. Korra could not deny that Asami was one of the most beautiful people that she had ever seen. Asami had the most stunning emerald eyes set behind long, dark lashes and perfect luscious hair that contrasted starkly with ivory skin. It really wasn't fair. No one was allowed to be that strong and that beautiful and one of the most intelligent people in Republic City. But Korra also vividly remembered how nervous Asami had been that night. It was her first public outing as the CEO of Future Industries, and she had looked absolutely radiant, although that bit wasn't really surprising. On the way over to the convention center Asami had nearly wrung her hands raw and had kept smearing her lipstick by chewing on her lip. Korra hadn't been sure that Asami even could be nervous. She was always so put together, ever the poised and enormously talented heiress. Korra now could look back and say that seeing Asami nervous was perhaps the first time she ever saw her as anything other than the wonder girl who did wonderful things all the time and looked great while doing it. She had realized that Asami was approachable. Human.
After the initial shaking of hands and proper hellos had been made, Korra had jumped at the first chance to sneak them out. They had gone to the park and just relaxed and talked. They had skipped stones in the lake and eaten greasy food from a nearby cart. Korra honestly didn't really recall a reporter even spotting them, but she wasn't surprised.
The words left a flutter behind in her chest that she had not felt in a long time. This sudden bout of non-negative emotion had to be a sign of progress, right? Love. Asami had used that word to sign her letter. Her friends still loved her. The phantom hadn't been able to take that from her. Maybe Katara was right and most of the residual damage done was just in her head. The icy white walls were not doing anything to help her at this point. Korra owed it to Katara to keep trying out the sessions for at least a few more months. But after that? She needed to get back out into the world and to stop hating herself. Maybe even go back to Republic City and see her friends. To see Asami again. The Avatar could no longer deny that she missed her friends and their support and their love. Maybe, finding and feeling love was the meaning in her suffering.
Korra picked up the pen and began to write.