"We're back!"
Hiroshi's cheerful voice rang through the entry hall, carrying all the mirth of a day spent solely with his daughter. No business, no work, and they had even managed to avoid nosy reporters who always seemed to flock to Republic City's third wealthiest man even if there was no story to be had. Just him, Asami, plenty of fun, and an indigestible amount of fire flakes.
"Akari? We're home!" Hiroshi shrugged when he got no response and promised himself for the hundredth time that they would move into a smaller house. What had possessed him when he bought this monstrosity? He shrugged off his thick winter coat and walked further into the house. And stopped in his tracks.
His beautiful house was a disaster. Broken ceramics were strewn across the floor, tables and chairs were on their sides, and bookcases had been knocked over, their heavy tomes in a state of complete disarray. It looked like the drapes had been set on fire, apparently for the sheer joy of destruction, and what seemed to be lightning burns covered the walls.
"Akari!" His voice was tight now, the lightness of before completely forgotten. His breath shuddered as he took in the devastation.
"Asami, stay close behind me!" The industrialist did not wait for more than a timid nod before he set off through the house as quickly as Asami's little legs would allow, calling his wife's name. He burst into room after room, always making sure his daughter stayed at a safe distance, but never pausing longer than necessary to see that his Akari wasn't in the room and, after a few rooms, to notice that quite a few valuables were missing. Good. If theft was all they planned…
The industrialist's thought trailed off as he saw his bedroom door. The gilded metal was scorched black, and the darkest part looked as if it had begun to melt slightly. As if to make the door so hot, it would be impossible to touch. Or hold shut. Oh spirits, no. Please no.
Sprinting ahead of his daughter, he shoved the door open with a force that sent it rebounding off of the wall. He nearly gagged as the smell hit him. Charred hair, and—something else. His eyes made contact with the floor. No sound came from his mouth, though it hung open and sometimes moved as if to speak.
What did, I, spirits…Akari, you…
The sound of Asami's feet on marble brought him back to reality, at least for a moment. "Asami!" Hiroshi's voice was indescribable. "Stay out of here. Wait for me outside." The girl obeyed what she barely recognized as her father's voice. It sounded as if he had swallowed shards of glass and couldn't get enough air and believed he was drowning all at once.
The elder Sato took a several shuddering gasps as he turned back, his incredibly inventive mind for once barely functioning beyond producing one repetitive thought.
How could anyone do this?
Three weeks now, and they still hadn't gone away. The reporters still congregated around the Sato mansion's gates, waiting and watching with rapt attention for even a glimpse of the entrepreneur who was now doubly famous. The newspapers had talked of little besides the Sato incident for a week, and an avid public had been more than keen to read about what had already been dubbed the crime of the decade.
Journalists had desperately been trying to find every excruciating detail.
"Sato Estate Robbed by Notorious Gang, Wife and Mother Murdered!"
"Millionairess Killed in Burglary of Sato Mansion!"
"Agni Kai's Suspected in Sato Incident, Culprits at Large!"
"Hiroshi Sato Silent on Wife's Death, Reclusive"
The headlines went on and on, and papers sold like never before. Only one man in all of Republic City never willingly gave a moment to think about the news: Hiroshi Sato himself.
The cameras began to flash even at a distance as the newsmen noticed Sato making his way to his workshop from the main building. The reinforced doors slammed shut as the inventor disappeared into the structure's interior. He idly considered buying up all of Republic City's news firms and firing any reporter foolish enough to annoy the new boss, but rejected the idea. Once, he would have done it with glee. Now…
Now he had more serious matters to attend to, like making sure no bender ever touched a helpless nonbender again. Those creatures will get what's coming to them the next time they prey on the vulnerable. I just have to figure out how.
The firebenders laughed as they made their way out of the mark's mansion, loaded down with antiques and valuables to be tossed into the waiting truck. If something broke, what of it? The old man who lived here had more than they could take.
"You wanna leave the rich guy something to remember us by, Shin?" The leader in question snorted.
"What, the present we left in his bedroom not enough for you? But fine, whatever, let's unload on the place." The lackey grinned and walked with Shin into the foyer. Lightning crackled as the pair lustily turned around the room, shattering glass and scorching whatever they had not found valuable enough to steal. Satisfied with their work, the Agni Kai's coolly made their exit.
Hiroshi started as he woke up, nearly cursing as he realized he had fallen asleep over his workbench. Better to stay awake and dive into the throng of reporters, or a pit of lava, for that matter, than to face what his more than potent imagination could concoct for him during the night. He had not been forced to rediscover Akari, at least. This time. For that, he was grateful.
And maybe, this one time, my dreams have done me a little good. That lightning…no man should have that kind of power. But if everyone had it, if everyone wielded the power of storms in the palms of their hands, maybe people like Akari might stand a chance. Maybe the odds would be a little more equal.
Hiroshi bent to his work.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the council, the evidence speaks for itself. Countless witnesses have come before you and established, through days of testimony, the extent to which Chief of Police Huimin betrayed the trust of his men, his superiors, and the people he swore to protect and serve. He allowed some of the worst criminals in Republic City to go about their business of extortion, intimidation, and murder, all the while pocketing huge sums. When Deputy Chief Bei Fong began to become suspicious of him and threatened to launch an investigation, the defendant savagely attacked her, leaving her with the facial scars you see today, evidence of an assault too vicious for even the best healers to smooth over."
"Councilmen, our beautiful city is being held hostage by violent gangs, gangs that feel untouchable because they know they have the Chief of Police in their pockets. We have to put their accomplice behind bars if we want to end the paralysis of our police force to save our city."
In the aisles reserved for spectators, Hiroshi allowed himself a small smile, a rarity nowadays. Amassing so much evidence against Huimin had been difficult, to say the least. The man had not sat atop a pyramid of conspiracy for years through being careless. He was meticulous, charming, intelligent, and knew exactly what buttons to push to get people to do what he wanted.
But the man was no match for Hiroshi. Today would be the culmination of an entire year's work: hundreds of hours of tireless effort and thousands of yuans. All for this one moment.
Huimin's lawyer stood, every inch the smooth-talking weasel-viper he had proven himself to be over the past few days. Go ahead, make one last pathetic attempt to dig your client out of the pit I've been constructing for months. I wonder if he works for a firm. I'd love to buy it. Then fire him. Hiroshi Sato did not like Huimin's lawyer.
"Councilmen. Today you must weigh one of the most significant cases ever to be decided in Republic City. I have long believed, as the legendary Toph Bei Fong taught us, that justice is blind. But justice also knows the strength of the ground on which this case rests. And what do we have, when we take a look at the scales of impartiality? On the one hand, we have Ren Huimin, who has unflinchingly led our police force for the last sixteen years. He was responsible for breaking the power of the so-called Glacier Gang, and it was he who implemented a plan for police airships, an innovation that has made our city vastly safer."
"And what do we have on the other hand? Who is questioning the conduct of our noble police chief? Criminals. Gangsters. Murderers, even. These are the men you are expected to believe. You are supposed to think that an endless stream of worthless testimony amounts to something. What more than lies can we expect from men being bribed with shorter prison sentences in exchange for testimony? And, lastly, of course, there is the valiant Lin Bei Fong. It saddens me to see the progeny of Toph Bei Fong brought so low as to make up ludicrous falsehoods about her superior for the sake of advancement."
Hiroshi saw Lin, face clearly enraged, start to rise before a prudent lawyer pulled her down. Fool! He was trying to bait you! And it worked; everyone saw you looking like the reckless person you are!
The lawyer managed to contain a slight smirk before continuing. "Over a matter of a few years, Lin Bei Fong enjoyed a meteoric rise through the ranks to her current position of Deputy Chief. Finding her way to further promotion blocked, however, she decided to take matters into her own hands and framed her own mentor. And when Chief Huimin discovered her planting evidence in his office, she launched a brutal attack he was barely able to repel. She had the motive. She had the intelligence. And she thought she could get away with it. Counclimen, I ask that my client immediately be cleared of all charges so a thorough investigation of Deputy Bei Fong's activities can be launched. Thank you."
The council shuffled out to deliberate, and Hiroshi suddenly slumped after losing the energy his nerves had lent him. Huimin's man is good, too good for comfort. But no one will believe that trash. The council knows Lin.
An hour passed. Hiroshi was getting impatient and was perhaps feeling the first hints of anxiety. Surely not even one of them could buy into a diversion such as that. The millionaire turned a baleful eye towards Huimin, who seemed relaxed, almost confident. He will go down. Once we have someone honest and uncompromising leading the authorities, the gangs will fall like so many dominoes. Hiroshi would make sure of it.
A second hour passed, and a third. To any observer, Sato would have looked completely at ease. Most would not have seen the rapid twitch of a vein standing in relief on his neck, and if his posture was a bit stiff, it was of no account. Powerful men always held themselves thus.
Finally, more than halfway through the fourth hour, the council shuffled in. Something's wrong. Sato's intuition was clamoring in his ear at the council's slumped gait, the expressions ranging from exhausted to outright angry.
The head councilman read the verdict in an impassive voice that revealed only a desire to be done with the matter. "By a vote of four to one, the council does not find the defendant guilty."
There was an uproar. There must have been. Hiroshi could see most of the spectators on their feet, their mouths moving in what looked like shocked words, disbelief written all over their faces. At the front of the room, Huimin was being released and led out a side door. After a minute or an hour, Sato managed to stumble out of the court, not actually processing any information.
A breeze blew, laden with the tang of smoke. Someone was burning something somewhere, possibly in protest or praise for the ruling. Hiroshi Sato inhaled. Exhaled. A sense of calm came over him.
What now?
I'll just have to take care of this myself.
It'll have to be double insulated so it can't harm the user. And the power source will have to be replaceable, only expensive machinery will be able to pack enough power in for multiple uses. Hiroshi sat fiddling at his workbench, his creation beginning to take form under his attentive hands. His eyes were filled with the same clarity and ingenuity which always accompanied a burst of inventive genius, although the spark of delight in his own abilities had long since gone out. Nevertheless, a smile was forming on the man's face as he added the few last components, a bit of wire here, another layer of fiber there.
"Done. Done at last. Now all that remains is to test it." He glanced at his creation somewhat apprehensively as he attached one last part—the power source. And nothing happened.
Hiroshi was grinning broadly as he swept back into the main mansion of his estate. Asami, quickly escaping from her beleaguered nanny, immediately noticed the difference in her father's demeanor.
"Dad?"
"Yes, Asami?"
"Did something good happen? You look so happy!" The young child, no longer accustomed to seeing such an expression on her parent's face, failed to notice that the smile never reached his eyes. Hiroshi knelt down, sweeping his daughter off her feet with a chuckle to accompany her fit of giggles. "Why yes, actually. A new invention of mine was a total success."
Asami asked the obvious question. "What is it?"
"It's a present." Quietly now, so not even Asami could hear from her perch on his shoulders. "A gift your mother."
Hiroshi walked into the bedroom he had been using for months in lieu of the master suite and promptly poured himself a drink. No matter how much I do, there's always more to be done. He wandered to the balcony to get a breath of fresh air. He didn't know how many more days of obsessing in his workshop he could handle, even if—
There was someone on the balcony.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my house?" Hiroshi Sato's voice should have been quaking, but it came out as ice. He had taken precautions since Akari had died; if this stranger wanted to cause any trouble, he would first have a most educating lesson about the intricacies of pain via electric shock. I just put Asami to bed and locked the door, at least there's no way he could have harmed her yet. Which means he'll never get the chance.
The stranger's voice was equally composed. "Who I am is meaningless. I represent a man very much like you, Mr. Sato. A man who, like you, has lost much to the system of injustice that leaves nonbenders to look after themselves. A man who can end the free reign of criminals and institute a new order, one of equality. A man who could use someone like you. Your genius, your wealth, your influence; he can show you how to direct these to bring about the changes you long for."
"Get out of my house before you have to be carried out." The strangely clad outsider nodded, accepting an end to the visit if not the conversation. "You can't do this on your own, Mr. Sato. Taking down one man won't change the system. You need us. When you're ready, this will tell you how to find us." He tossed some kind of paper at the entrepreneur's feet and, incredibly, flipped off the second-floor balcony to disappear into the night. Sato stared after him before returning his attention to the item the man had thrown him, apparently a newspaper. Hiroshi carried it into the light of his bedroom.
"Police Chief Huimin Electrocuted, Agni Kai's Blamed!"
Sato crushed the newspaper in his fists, held it over a candle.
But didn't burn it.
Hiroshi couldn't believe what he was seeing. His daughter, his own flesh and blood, destroying the Equalist airplanes, helping the benders. How dare she!? With each blow she might as well be striking down her own mother, again and again. What had those bending freaks done to his daughter? Lied to her, told her some pathetic sob story? Seduced her? A white hot rage filled Hiroshi, rage at the benders, at Asami, at the system, at the world that had killed and burned his wife. He scrambled into a mecha-tank, activated it.
"Asami! What do you think you're doing? You are aiding the very people who took your mother away!"
"You don't feel love for Mom anymore! You're too full of hatred."
"You…" He had dedicated his life to righting the wrongs in the world, avenging her mother, and she repaid him by ruining his plans and spitting on her mother's grave? "ungrateful…" She presumed to judge him, to assume she knew people for what they were better than he? She had no idea how casually evil the world was! "insolent child!"
He rushed forward, expertly dodging the claws Asami fired at him. He struck, and her mecha-tank flew into the air, landing on an airplane. Fury carried him forward to loom over his stunned daughter.
A mechanical arm rose, poised to end the confrontation permanently. The spirits would absolve him. "I now see there is no chance to save you."
A barrage of rocks. An angry earthbender riding an enormous beast, stopping him in his tracks, saving Asami. From him. Her father.
"Mr. Sato, you are a horrible father!"
Hiroshi slumped in his cell. His memories of that day ended there, no matter how many times he relived them. It didn't matter; nothing was as important as the truth that had come from that boy's mouth.
"You are a horrible father. You are a horrible father." It was no longer that bender's voice chanting the refrain. It was Hiroshi himself. It was Akari, passing judgment on him from the spirit world. Where did I go wrong? My intentions were always pure. No one was supposed to get hurt but the guilty. If the iron bars of his cell knew the answer, they were not telling him. I almost…I was going to murder Asami, my own daughter and the last remnant of Akari.
The complete scope of his failure was nearly impossible to grasp even for his intellect. He had sought to bring balance to the world, presumed he could do with wealth and genius what the incarnation of the spirit of the entire world struggled to do. And in his arrogance, he had brought terror to thousands of innocents, gave weapons to a madman who bombed a defenseless city indiscriminately. And had stood by as the bodies piled up. He had sought to defeat the triads only to sink to their level. He had sought to avenge Akari , yet she would have been disgusted to see him now. And there was still that one, ever-present fact. He had nearly murdered Asami. When did I become a monster?
"You don't feel love anymore! You're too full of hatred." The words echoed in Hiroshi's mind. So that was it. He had slowly poisoned his own spirit, letting his love for Akari leech out and be replaced with hate for her killers.
Spirits forgive me. Not that he thought they should. What redemption could there possibly be for him? He had nothing left with which to even begin making amends—his company, wealth, influence, all gone.
Unless…
Hiroshi walked over to the small desk his captors had allowed him and found some paper. Even locked away with no resources, he still had his mind. The mind that had created instruments of war could as easily design beneficial innovations. Locked in an iron cell, he would reach out and change the world. This time, it would be for the better.
Hiroshi bent to his work.
AN: My very first fic, and I'm afraid it shows. (Constructive criticism is encouraged/begged for.) Nevertheless, I hope you liked it. This idea behind this story came to me as I was watching the season finale of LoK. Essentially, I thought it was strange and almost ridiculous that Hiroshi, however angry, would be ready to kill his own daughter, as his final words and the threatening movement of the mecha-tank arm seem to indicate.
My idea was basically to show Hiroshi develop from the light character he stills uses as a façade into the more monstrous character we see in "Endgame." Note that, although Amon was likely responsible to some degree for the transformation, Hiroshi took the first step on his own despite his original, noble intentions.
Mike and Bryan definitely considered giving me the creative rights to LoK, but they didn't, so I own nothing. Review or I will fill your house with low quality caramel.