In a city the size of Republic City, there had to be several fires happening every day. Asami knew this. She felt that she should be used to it by now, but every time she saw the flashing lights and heard the sirens of the fire trucks her heart started beating faster and her muscles tensed up.
This close to home it was worse. Even if both the law and common sense didn't dictate that she get out of the way of the engines, she would have pulled to the side of the road. With effort she took deep measured breaths and recited the gear ratios of different satomobile motors to herself, trying not to hear her mother's screams mixed in with the sirens.
The trucks roared past. With a shaky hand she put the car back in gear and pulled onto the road. The engines seemed to be going her way. Turn after turn, they anticipated her route. Traffic was heavy enough that while they pulled ahead slowly, they never got completely out of her sight. She considered pulling over again, but she was so close to getting back to the estate. Surely, she could handle it just a little bit longer. Now that she was literally on the home stretch.
A few blocks ahead of her, the fire trucks turned in at the driveway that led to the Sato mansion.
Later, she would have no clear recollection of those last minutes of her drive home. She remembered climbing out of the car. Seeing her home in flames, the fire brigade rushing to get their hoses running, confused members of her household staff milling about on the lawn. She didn't see her wife or daughter anywhere.
She ran to the nearest familiar face, one of the gardeners. "Where's Korra? Where's Saelee?" The young man stared at her and shook his head. She ran on. Person after person either said nothing or that they didn't know. No one had seen them since before the fire had started.
She stared at the flames licking up the outside walls. She could feel the heat from here. The smoke stung her eyes and nose. She couldn't move, couldn't look away. Then over the sound of the flames and the roar of her own blood in her ears, she was sure she could hear screaming.
A young fireman intercepted her as she ran toward the house, her own screams raw in her throat. She tried to break his nose, but another pair of hands grabbed her from behind. It took three members of her staff to drag her back, and she struggled and cursed them every inch of the way. "I can hear her in there!" she said, and even she wasn't sure who she meant. Korra? Saelee? Her own long dead mother? "She's in there, I can hear her, you have to let me go!"
"Mommy?" The cry came from behind her, not from the house. The hands grasping her relaxed as she stopped straining toward the building and instead turned to face the voice. Saelee raced to her across the lawn. Behind her, Korra leapt from off of Naga's back and followed.
Asami was sobbing as she knelt to embrace her daughter. "You're safe. I was so afraid. I was so sure…" She started to shiver uncontrollably despite the heat surrounding her.
"Mommy, are you all right?" Saelee sounded scared.
Korra arrived and wrapped her arms around them both. "No, Sweetheart. Mommy-A isn't all right. But she will be. Just you keep holding on to her and she will be."
Korra took charge. She helped the fire fighters put out the blaze. She informed the mansion staff that they all had time-off with full pay until further notice, and helped those who actually lived on the estate to find a place to stay. Then she checked the family into a suite at the Republic City Arms.
Saelee had decided it was her job to help Asami "get better." She held her hand. She told her knock-knock jokes and funny rambling stories. She endured it every time Asami started to cry again and pulled her tight into another hug. At bedtime, Saelee declared she would sleep with her mothers to keep the bad dreams away. Since she positioned Asami instead of herself in the middle of the bed, it was clear it wasn't her dreams she was worried about.
It didn't work. In the middle of the night, Asami clawed her way back to consciousness out of visions of flame and smoke, the sound of screams, and the smell of burning. Korra was shaking her, telling her to wake up. She sat up abruptly, gasping for breath.
Korra folded her in a hug. "Shhh. I'm here. You're safe. This is what's real. We're all here and all safe. You're safe." Korra stroked her hair and kept holding onto her as the shaking died away and her breath evened out. Next to them, Saelee slumbered on, for which Asami was grateful.
"The fire?" Korra asked.
Asami nodded. "First it was Mom trapped in there, and I was a little girl again. Then it was you two. I couldn't move. I could only watch and listen and…" She trailed off with a shudder.
Korra nodded, understanding. "I'm sorry."
"Thank you. Thanks for being here."
Korra kissed the top of her head. "Always."
She held on tight to Korra. "You never say 'It's all right.' When I've had a nightmare, I mean. I'm not complaining, I just never noticed before. It's what people always seem to say in the books and the movers. It's what Dad used to say when I was growing up."
Korra was quiet for a while. "I guess I figure if everything were all right, you wouldn't be having a nightmare."
Asami took a deep shuddering breath. "I wish you didn't understand bad dreams so well."
"I wish we both didn't."
The next day they arranged for Saelee to stay on Air Temple Island while they went to inspect the damage. The fire had started in the kitchen, grease catching fire on a hot stove, just one of those accidents that can happen. Cook had barely prevented one of the inexperienced maids from pouring water on it, fortunately or they wouldn't have been so lucky to have no one hurt.
The mansion itself was in very bad shape. There was an inspector on site, and she would only let them into a few rooms, all on the ground floor. That was all right. There was really only one room Asami really wanted to see.
Her office was on the opposite side of the house from the kitchen. The flames had reached there, but not long before the fire brigade had managed to get things under control. The base of her desk was charred. The red leather chair was stained with soot, the surface blistered and cracked. She laid a hand on it. "This was Dad's chair," she said to Korra. "I kept it, even during the years where we were estranged." Korra just nodded.
Asami turned her attention to the desk, to what she'd come in here to see. Two portraits, on either side of the desk. One of her with her parents when she was a little girl. One of her, Korra, and Saelee. They were still there. Singed at the edges and wrinkled from water damage, but still there. She gathered them in her arms and sank into the chair, ignoring the sound of the charred leather cracking under her weight. "I win." The inspector looked at her strangely, but Korra just nodded again and smiled.
She let Korra drive them to pick up Saelee. She rode in silence, seated in the passenger seat still holding the photos. "Maybe we shouldn't rebuild," she said halfway through the drive. Korra glanced at her but didn't answer. "We could get an apartment in the city," Asami continued. "There are plenty of nice places. Saelee wouldn't even have to change schools. We'd need to figure out a good arrangement for Naga of course, and I'd want to make sure that all of the servants can find a new situation."
"I'm not saying you're wrong," Korra said. "Just… you're not relying on that to make the dreams go away, are you?"
Asami laughed. "You know me too well. No, you're right of course. But I feel like I need to do more than go back to the way things were. Do something to make this disaster mean something." She leaned back and gazed into space. An idea started to form in her mind. "'The Yasuko and Hiroshi Sato Memorial Orphanage.' Maybe the name's a bit bulky but there's something to work with there."
"Rebuild but not for us?" Korra said. "That sounds fitting. It's still not going to get rid of the dreams."
Asami nodded. "But it might help make waking up easier."
Author's note:
Pro-bending Circuit, season 5, round 4: Write about someone facing their fears. Character: Asami. Fear of fire.
Bonus prompts: (object) chair and (restriction) Third Person POV.
Words without author's note: 1489
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