Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Korra

"How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
 The world forgetting, by the world forgot."

-Alexander Pope

"He was taken from me, swallowed up into an abyss… But I no longer knew this when it took me, too."

…

Korra found herself alone, waiting for the trolley. She had business at the police department with Chief Beifong, and Naga was ill. Korra wasn't used to being this alone. She always thought Naga would be with her in this expansive city; the labyrinth of streets seemed overwhelming without her. She sighed, sitting down on the street side bench—the trolley was late.

"Funny to see a water tribe girl alone in this part of town," A young man remarked coyly as he sat down on the bench as well. "There's lots of gangs around here… Triads, Agni Kais. Where are you headed, exactly?"

She glared into his amber eyes, displeased with his small talk. "That's none of your business, scarf boy. I'm not afraid of anyone." She stood up briskly as the first trolley she saw drew to the stop; it wasn't the one that would take her back to the Island, but she'd rather not chat with the smug looking street rat on the bench.

As she placed a yuan in the collector, she noticed he was grasping the brass bar behind her. "Huh, I guess we're headed the same way," He chuckled. "Are you new here? Maybe I can show you around."

"No, but thanks." Korra grumbled. "Really, I don't need your help. I've lived here for months."

"I've never seen you around here before."

"Maybe you just weren't looking."

Korra intentionally sat in an empty seat next to an old woman knitting a scarf, folding her arms in hopes that her defensive body language would drive away the persistent young man.

Instead of being discouraged, he pokes her shoulder.

A flash, a single instance of sleeping with Naga in the park. Someone is with her. Korra senses the warmth of another, not just the soothing softness of the polarbear dog's fur. No, a body. A face against hers.

She flips around in her seat furiously. "Can you—Stop! Just leave me alone."

"I'm really certain—I would've noticed someone like you."

"Not my problem, Jerkbender."

She stopped herself briefly—How did she know he bent anything?

The young man sat back in his seat, grumbling something unintelligible. "Well, anyways, I'm Mako," he said a bit more clearly. "It's nice to meet you too, sass-queen."

Korra frowned, a nagging sensation begged her to be kind, shouting from the pits of her subconscious. She glanced back, looking at him out of the corner of her eye—Mako was now glancing out the window, visibly disappointed and probably slightly embarrassed.

The old woman next to Korra turned around, too. "Young man, how do you not know this girl? She's been in all the papers."

Mako raised his pronounced eyebrows in a confused manner. "I guess… I don't really read the paper."

"Well, then it really is your problem, young man. She can't help that she's the Avatar." The petite old woman raised a hand, dismissing him entirely as she returned to her knitting.

"The…Avatar?" Mako gasped. He had heard so much about her, how she saved all of the Republic from the Equalist uprising. He had heard her name floating around, a fog above the roaring crowds, shouting the name of their champion. Korra, Korra.

"Korra?"

A dark sensation rose up from his gut through his esophagus, consuming the name, dragging it down inside him. He grasped for it, the shadows telling him he had in fact seen her before. The shadow began to turn a navy blue, voluminous hair flowing from behind the figure. He swiped forward, trying to catch the illusion, but it disintegrated through his fingers as though it were composed of sand.

Then, it was gone.

"Look, I'm really sorry if I've… Come off as rude," Mako tried to explain. "I didn't know… Could I, uh… take you out to dinner, maybe?" He stumbled over the words. The last dinner date he had been on was a few months ago, with a wealthy industrial heiress. Why exactly did I break up with her, again? Mako paused, thinking silently to himself. But it was convenient that he was single now—something about Korra fascinated him, drew in his curiosity.

He felt as though heknew her.

"You're paying," Korra spat. "And no fancy food, either."

"Sure, of course not…" Mako shook his head slowly, overjoyed that she was giving him a chance. "I know this nice little noodle shop south of Dragon Flats. Meet me there tonight at 8?"

"Sure thing, scarf boy."

…

She arrived at the noodle shop, tossing aside the cloth doorway. Korra knew she had been here before, but the memories were as foggy as a morning in the icy deserts of the south. She had been here with someone; but it wasn't the young man sitting, waiting for her at a booth he had reserved just a few short hours before.

"H-hey, Korra!" He waved. Her named rolled off his tongue so easily, it almost seemed second nature.

She felt the need to remind herself that she just met this young man. The trolley station. She had never seen him before then.

…

Weeks passed, months rushed by.

Light trickled in through the translucent white curtains, the window fighting to serve its function. He caressed her cheek as she awoke, and she pulled the sheets up over their heads.

"Good morning," He kissed her forehead, which was moist with a cold sweat. Surprised, he looked at her terrified face. "Korra, is something wrong?"

She had a horrific dream the night before; a dark creature wished to take him away from her.

"I've done it once before, young avatar."

She didn't want to tell him what haunted her so; the suspicion that they had known each other for much longer than they were aware.

The next night, Korra's dream reached lucidity; she felt herself fully awake, yet her body was asleep. Her spirit reached out to stop it, but the shadow hovered lower and lower over Mako's sleeping body.

"He is mine, Korra. With him I take your happiness—I want you to realize I've done it to you this time. You cannot be happy. I forbid it."

A sigh released from his sleeping body, energy releasing like the last roar of a corpse. Korra wanted so badly to scream, to demand the sprit stop, but her mouth wouldn't move.

"You're next."

The dark red eyes cackled; Korra realized she knew the voice. A woman's, a bitter, aged voice full of rage and despair.

"Th-!" Korra's throat uttered desperately, trying to reason with the ominous being. "The woman… Knitting the s-scar—"

The shadow smothered Korra, consuming all her memories of the last few months and her love.

…

The city streets seemed barren this early in the morning, and the airbending children were borrowing Naga to train for riding bison; the excuse Tenzin had used didn't make sense until Korra realized how paranoid Pema was over letting the children fly on their own. Of course, the police force wouldn't hold a meeting later in the day; they were too busy. Lin had insisted Korra attend. The young avatar stretched, yawning a bit while she stood on the flagstone sidewalk.

The trolley was late, so she sat on the bench to rest for a short while.

"Hey, there," a vaguely familiar voice chimed in her ear. "I haven't seen you around these parts before."