One of my absolute favorite things to do is just go driving. It doesn't matter if I'm by myself or with my friends. I find it utterly therapeutic. I'd do it all the time if it wasn't so environmentally irresponsible. Anyways, that's how this story came to be. I can definitely imagine Asami just cruising and chilling on the road. And I couldn't help but throw in some irosami because it needs more love. I'd love to hear what you think! Hope you enjoy the story!
The dull thrum of the engine is a well loved melody in her ears as she races down the pavement. The wheel, of smooth and polished wood, is a solid comfort. Unlike the scenery, which rushes and fades away, the feeling behind the wheel is a constant, an overwhelming rush that is both exhilarating and calming in its familiarity. She cannot remember a time where she has not known this feeling.
In a way, the road has raised her. Miles of pavement and cobbled streets have shaped her just as much as the the never ending passing of time. Her car is her cradle and the gentle murmur of pistons and rubber and metal all stir together to create a lullaby of which she will never grow tired.
Driving takes the edge off. Her secret hurts and pains bleed into paved roads and disappear into grey, trailing smoke.
And, for a little while, she can let the little shell of metal and wood be her world. And there's a comfort there. Because when the world is small, it doesn't take much to know it. The feel of the wheel in her hands, the gentle vibration as the rest of the universe goes skimming by, they don't change. Not like people do.
She doesn't think she has a destination. She'd never get lost if she has nowhere to go. But all her roads lead back to him, somehow. Sometimes it just takes a few extra turns to get there.
"Asami, what are you doing here?" He's still rubbing his eyes to shake away sleep's tempting grasp. She feels a warmth envelop her, radiating from the pit of her stomach. And, for a moment, she can't breathe. Her chest is tight, it almost hurts. All the words she wants to say clamor to get out. This feeling. She wonders for a moment if she can call it love. Such a simple word, one syllable meant to convey something so complicated and messy and beautiful. But, if she had to try to label this nebula of emotions, she thinks she could call it love. The weight of four letters is the weight you put into them.
"Let's go for a drive." She says. They are not the words she'd planned to say. They are too simple, too plain. But when they leave her lips and disappear into the world, she finds she wouldn't want to take them back at all.
Iroh is not sure what to think, but he knows there is only one answer he can give. He climbs into the car, settling in beside her. And it feels good, being by her side. It's like he feels lighter somehow, like a weight is gone that he didn't even realize was there. It is like being able to breathe.
It's their world now, a world decorated by rushing pavement and trees speeding by. It's funny, it doesn't seem any messier even though the population just doubled. Asami thinks she'll even turn on the radio in a bit. A place without music will never amount to anything. She wonders if Iroh is the type to sing along. She wonders many things, but in her heart she knows one certainty - she hopes the road never ends.