In an empty, abandoned office at the top floor of a skyscraper, looking through the fine scope of her firearm, Asami gritted her teeth. Her target was not looking at her. That was impossible.

She had spotted the young woman—Element Four—walking on the pavement below. Her rich, short brown hair and native attire had identified her to Asami instantly. Now, she gripped her weapon, running her index finger along the trigger as though she were caressing a lover's body.

It was an easy shot.

But she hesitated.

Element Four had stopped in her tracks a moment ago, and swung her gaze upward. Her eyes were scorching blue, open and curious. It was not until after Asami had aimed her weapon right between those eyes before she realized they were keeping steady contact with her own.

She can't really see me, she reminded herself. She is NOT looking directly at me.

She waited. She should not, she knew. She would not be blessed with a better shot. But she wanted the girl…no, she wanted the target to look away. When after ten tedious minutes it did not happen, Asami grew impatient (unnerved) by those grilling blue eyes and pulled the trigger.

Her target dropped dead.

xxx

They called it sanctioning.

It would be what she did, now. After tonight, there was no going back.

The Sisterhood prided itself on its policies regarding children; that no one who was assigned sanctioning would be less than seventeen. They were above the harmful exploitation of children, they said. They were conscientious of physiological damage to young minds.

It made Asami want to laugh. All they were doing was reserving the most delectable trauma for the later years. The Sisterhood could flaunt their make-believe morality as much as they wanted; it was only a pretentious mask. Virtuous murderers were still murderers.

Asami had excelled at many things as a child; she'd shown excellent skill in engineering, brilliance with precision art, and near perfect interpersonal skills. And barring all of that, she had grown into a body that would have sold for thousands each night. She could have made an absolute killing for the Sisterhood in any these departments.

Apparently, one kind of killing was more important than the other.

Enemies needed to be taken out, threats dealt with. And Asami had also shown incredible promise with firearms.

She walked into the bar like a lion would walk among sheep. A few eyes turned to her, then away. Conversation echoed along the walls, discussions about politics and pets. It was a strange feeling walking among the public now, for the knowledge of her first sanctioning felt manifest, felt conspicuous, but it was not. The people about her did not even stare. She felt as though she could reach out to touch one of them, but never succeed.

She took a stool at the bar, sighing. "Frangelico," she snapped at the bartender. "Straight up." The cup slid towards her, and she snatched it with an eagerness she wasn't aware she had.

A voice behind her piped up. "If you're planning on getting drunk on that, you're gonna have a hell of a headache."

Who did this person think they were, commenting on what she chose to drink? Asami turned, ready to fire off an irritable retort. The words died on her lips.

Before her was her previous target, very much alive.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, opened it again and then closed it again. She tried to find an explanation for this eerie situation, but her mind was like wheel that was too rusted to turn. "You…you, uh…how…?"

The girl's blue eyes beamed at her, and a familiar (very familiar) crooked smile graced her face. "How what? How old am I? Old enough to drink, don't worry!" Asami could only gape at her as she leapt up onto the stool beside her and sat down. "So how old are you?"

"Seventeen. No, eighteen, sorry." Get a grip, Asami. "I'm…today is my birthday."

Eyebrows peaked over blue eyes. "Well, damn. We certainly can't have you drinking alone, then. Yo, bartender! Could I get a glass of Cactus Casual for the lady here?"

Asami accepted the beer, and Element Four began to chat with her amiably. Asami pretended to listen; she nodded, hummed in agreement every now and then, offered a chuckle. Inside, she was reeling. Could she have shot the wrong person? No, she had been certain. Could she have simply missed?

Quietly, she cursed herself for not having carried her usual vial of poison with her.

She gasped suddenly, for she had just noticed the gentle fingers that Element Four was brushing across her face. "I'll be here next week," she said, as though she were revealing a deep secret. "I'll see you then."

And her target left her sight.

xxx

The second shot was harder to make.

She was in a different building this time, and on a higher story. So far down below, her target was resting on the rim of the town's monumental fountain. She was relaxed, happily engaged in whatever book that was she was reading as her two long wolftails fluttered in the breeze.

Or so Asami believed as she took aim. But in that minuscule moment it took her for finger to press down the trigger, her target again swung her head upward to look her directly in the eyes.

This time, the eyes bespoke disappointment.

And again, the target dropped dead.

xxx

"She is a monster," Asami's superior had said, cold eyes flickering through the slits beneath her hood. Asami sat before her, looking respectful and calm, feeling small and skittish. "The Sisterhood has dubbed her Element Four. One year from now, when your training is complete and you turn eighteen, it will be your job to sanction her."

The photograph her superior passed to her was of a girl, no older than seventeen, offering a lopsided grin to the camera. Asami brushed her fingers over the image, wondering what color her eyes were, how soft her hair. For all their talk of preserving childhood innocence within their own ranks, she thought, the Sisterhood certainly did not have any qualms about killing children who were not their own.

"What has she done?" Asked Asami, for this was a routine question. Curiosity was encouraged among the Sisterhood, else an internal conflict of interests be overlooked.

"It is not what she has done," replied the superior, "but what she will do. This one has the power to upset everything. Our sources have suggested that she is incredibly strong, strong enough to lift small vehicles without effort. Three weeks ago, she defended a sanctioning target from three of our Sisters, defeating each in hand-to-hand combat."

"She defeated three of our Sisters?"

"With ease," the superior said. "We believe that Element Four could have obliterated them, but she left them," (the superior's voice lilted with a hitch of surprise,) "alive and nearly unharmed. A pity she was not more merciful."

Asami suppressed a shiver. She knew all too well what the penalty for failure was among the Sisterhood. Death by Element Four's hands would have been far preferable.

"One Sister was lucky, however," the Superior continued, lifting a calloused hand to her wrinkled chin, "For she provided us information that spared her life. She stated that she witnessed a telltale gust of air lift Element Four into the air, providing her leverage in the fight. We also found a nearly explainable third-degree burn on the Sister's arm, perfectly in the shape of a hand, where Element four had grabbed and restrained her. We have reason to believe that Element Four burned her…with her bare hands."

Something fearful clicked in Asami's mind. "She's an Unnatural."

"We think so."

"I thought those matter-manipulating creatures disappeared when the Avatar vanished."

"Every now and then, one crops up," the superior said, lifting one shoulder noncommittally. "But soon after they reveal themselves, we take care of them."

"I'll take her out," Asami hissed.

Her superior's mouth twisted into what Asami assumed was a smile. "Make us proud."

xxx

After she had sanctioned her target for a second time, she piled four more shots into the body before she fled. She had seen the bullet holes upon the torso and cranium of the dead woman, seen the light leave those blue eyes moments before.

Element Four was dead when Asami left. Not even an Unnatural could survive bullets to the frontal lobe as well as three more directly to the heart.

But somehow, Element Four had.

"You came! This is great!" she cried, taking Asami by the arm and ushering her into the bar. Asami followed, feeling dazed.

"So…did you," she said lamely.

The smile she got in return was a gentle one, but Asami could have sworn she saw a hint of slyness to it. "Didn't think I'd be here, did you? Well," she said, tapping Asami on the shoulder, "I told ya I would. And I don't go back on my word."

"Let me buy you a drink this time," Asami offered, and brought her a Chalua and Milk with a touch of arsenic. The minute it was placed on the table, the Element Four picked it up and downed the entire glass. "Interseting flavor," she said, placing the cup back on the table. "Anyway, you know, neither of us caught each other's names last week. I'm Korra. You are?"

"Arsemic. I mean Asami! "

Korra laughed. "Girl, you're already slurring your words and you haven't even had more than two sips of beer."

"I'm not a lightweight," Asami protested, "I've just been working today. I'm rather tired."

Korra hummed into her glass. No, wait, Asami's glass. She'd taken Asami's beer! "What do you do?" she asked.

Asami's face fell. "I….I'm a part of a clean-up crew."

"You don't seem happy about that."

"I want to do engineering."

Korra leaned in, her eyes sparkling. "Oooh, you know, I know a guy who knows a guy. Says he's in real need of an apprentice. What do you say I sign you up with him, huh?"

"Ooh, no, my boss would kill me if I left," Asami sighed.

And for some reason, Korra thought that was hilarious. She burst into laughter, slamming the table with her fists. "K-k-kill you. Oh wow, that's a good one." She wiped her tearing eyes, suppressing more giggles. "Look, Asamaric, or…whatever your name is. If you're worried about your old boss harassing you, go to the police. You're young yet, and they won't be mad. That kinda thing is what they'd like to crack down on, you follow me?"

How Asami longed for the days when she was as naive as the girl in front of her. But against the Sisterhood, what could the police do? She offered a weak smile. "Well, let me think on it."

"You do that." Korra placed an empty stein on the table. She'd completely drained Asami's Cactus Casual. She noticed and winced. "Uhh, heh. Sorry. I'll go get you another one."

They drank together until the break of morning. It was not until after she's arrived home, fantasizing about that engineering job, that she realized—in all that time, Korra had shown no sign of the arsenic taking effect.

xxx

The third time was the hardest.

But it was the fastest. Years of training had taught Asami that feelings of hesitation should only be met with swift, brutal action.

But the most brutal moment of all was then those eyes yet again pierced her own, this time dark with fury.

xxx

She took no chances this time. When the deed was done, she located Element Four's carcass, loaded it into her car, and set off for secluded banks of the eastern-city river. She drove for hours, the body of Element Four, of Korra, bleeding out all over her back seat. The sun set in sanguine reds over the horizon until it disappeared from view, leaving her alone with the passing streetlamps.

Poor visibility drove her to the curb several times, where she would try to wipe the obstructing tears from her eyes before continuing on.

When the riverbanks finally alit in the glow of her headlights, she rolled onto the muddy banks. The river almost seemed to have a tide; she watched as water nuzzled the shore, retreated, then returned.

Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Her breath shuddered as she got up. She thought maybe she'd swallowed a stone, because her stomach, her whole body, felt heavy. Maybe I'm the dead one in the water, she thought. Maybe I've been drowning this whole time, and I'm wading through some nightmare, one I've had since I was small.

She opened the backdoor to her car, looked at the dark, wet stain where the body was supposed to be.

A hand landed on her shoulder, its grip tight; another snaked around from behind, kneading the flesh of her throat. "Looking for me?"

No, she wanted to say, I knew you'd survive again. Yes, she wanted to say, I think I have been for a long time.

We had two meetings, but there were three killings, she wanted to say, so what does it matter anymore?

Instead she said, "You were my first."

Asami turned. Korra's eyes were as she had last seen them—cold, narrow. Enraged. Yet when Asami saw them, she could only think of the last time she saw them warm and smiling, backlit by the smokey lamps at the bar.

She preferred them alive. She preferred them when they were curious, or disappointed, or angry. She preferred them open, flickering, not clouded over, unseeing.

Asami found that their hands had come together somehow, resting in each other's grasp. "You were my first," Asami repeated. Kill, she wanted to finish. But it would not come out.

"How romantic." Korra's voice was like vinegar and honey.

"You're impossible," Asami whispered. "This is impossible. I shot you. I poisoned you. I…you looked at me. How? How do you keep surviving?"

In answer, Korra stepped back and lifted her chin proudly. Abruptly, Korra's eyes were no longer blue. They were white, brightly so, illuminating the banks and the black water behind them. Rogue guests billowed in their hair; the river behind them roared; heat licked like feathers where Korra held her hands, and the mud churned beneath their feet.

"You're the Avatar," Asami whispered. "You're the fabled unnatural who brought down the tyrants of old." Her mind cleared, and she stared into Korra's blazing eyes in horror. "I know of you. I know of your powers. You command the elements. You…you can't…you can't die."

"That's right. I can't." Something glinted in Korra's hand. "But you can."

Shhhlnk.

Asami gasped, her eyes widening, a scream latent at her gaping lips. Her hands flew to her breast; she felt Korra's hand there, and wet warmth, and when her hands came away, they were dripping red. She looked down and blinked uncomprehendingly at the cold object sticking out of her.

Ice. A sharp shard of ice, lodged in her heart.

Her legs buckled beneath her; she found herself not falling, as she expected, but being guided downwards in gentle arms to the cold mud of the riverbank. The blurred figure of Korra loomed above, the glow of her eyes like two ghostly galleons against the night.

The icicle slid from Asami's heart like a sword from a sheath. It melted into water in Korra's hand, and Asami groaned, her mouth terribly dry. "Sshhh," Korra soothed, placing the water at her lips. "Drink."

Gratefully, Asami drank her murder weapon as the darkness dragged her under.

xxx

In the blissful world between wakefulness and slumber, where restricting notions like self-awareness were slight enough to be negligible, Asami drifted. Amber oblivion enveloped her, and the air through which she floated seemed as soft as down. Something—some knowledge, some kind of thought—was poking at her from the edge of the waking world, but she ignored it. Just this once, she felt as though life was worth living.

But I'm supposed to be dead.

And then she was awake.

She bolted upwards. Blankets flew from her body as she did so, her hands making contact with a soft mattress instead of ground as she tried to stabilize herself. She was in a bed, in a meager hotel room. Before she could even wonder who it belonged to, she hand her answer, for at the foot of the bed stood Element Four.

The Avatar.

Asami wondered who she was about to speak to: the harsh-eyed girl who had spied her as she took aim, or the bright-eyed woman she had shared drinks with at the bar. But it seemed that answer was not forthcoming; Korra simply stared back, her face unreadable, her gaze unrelenting. Asami became aware of the light tik tik of the clock beside her, of the sound of mice skittering in the wall, of the light thump thump of her own heart. She decided to break the silence.

"I'm alive," Asami observed.

"Yea." Korra nodded. She tilted her head, seeming to peer sideways at Asami.

"You killed me."

"You killed me first," Korra responded.

"And then you returned. Because…you're the Avatar." It was too much, the eye-contact. Whether it was due to a guilty conscience or simply Korra's unrelenting stare, Asami lowered her eyes. She splayed her fingers over the bedspread, watching as the wrinkles stretched and disappeared. "But here I am. Alive." Her fingers closed around the quilt, gripping a fistful of it with white knuckles. "How am I here? I felt it. I felt myself die. I…" She squeezed her eyes shut, resisting the pressure that was building behind them. "It isn't fair."

The weight of the bed shifted. Asami opened one watery eye to peer at Korra, who was now seated on the bed beside her.

"You're right. It's not," Korra rubbed her brow. "I'm sorry about that."

It wasn't so much the fact that she said it at all, but the way she said it, that caused Asami to look up at her in alarm. When Korra caught her inquisitive glance, she sighed bitterly.

"Yes, it's because of me," Korra said. "You came back because of me."

"How?" Asami asked, resisting the urge to grit her teeth.

"Well, uh…" Korra tilted her head, seeming to ponder something for a moment. "What do you know about me?"

Unceremoniously, Asami flopped backwards into the pillows and studied the ceiling. "You have blue eyes and brown hair. You have strong arms, so you probably work out. You like beer a lot and you have funny smile. I shot you. You can see long distances?"

She expected a response, and when nearly a minute went by and she didn't' get one, she sat up sharply. Korra's face was flushed, and her eyes downcast—not in sadness or shame, but in what appeared to be some form of coyness.

"I…I meant, what do you know about the Avatar," Korra whispered, a hint of a smile tugging at the sides of her mouth.

"Oh." She blinked. "Well, a lot. You're old. Nobody knows when you came into existence, but you've been alive for thousands of years. You are the greatest of the Unnatruals; you defeated the tyrant kings of old and brought order to the world. You disappear and reappear often; you've been gone for nearly two hundred years now. Your Ancient ballads all bemoan your loneliness because you can't die, but it's foretold that one day, the immortal love of your life will be born. You will find them and live together in eternal bli…wait." She stopped short and slammed her hand over her eyes. "Okay, no. No, no, no, no. You're kidding. No way. No."

Korra seemed to shrink. She looked mildly crushed. "Do you have a better explanation?" she spluttered defensively.

"I don't care about explanations!" cried Asami. "I killed you! Three times! I think anyone with a brain figure out that's a pretty bad start for a romance!"

Korra's face hardened. "You think I don't realize that? I came to this city from the damn arctic just looking for you. I felt you years ago; I knew you were here! And when I finally sensed that I had zeroed in on you, a bullet hit me between the eyes. Can you imagine what that's like?" She sighed, her nose crinkling. "Then I found in the bar. I knew it was you. I knew it was you."

Korra could feel her? Sense her? Asami's head was reeling. The situation was so absurd, so unbelievable. She sputtered, looking for a way to prove how unreal it was. "If you knew that I was…fated to you or whatever, why did you stick an icicle in me?"

Korra leapt to her feet. "Because you shot me, okay?!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms into the air. "I thought I was imagining things! I thought there'd be no way the love of my life would try to murder me! I thought you'd feel something the way I did, that you'd recognize me, recognize that you belong with me. After thousands and thousands of years, fight after fight, death after death, what else could I hope for? Just for once, I dared to think that if anything would be easy, it would be finding you!" She took a shuddering breath and wiped her eyes. "So when you shot me the third time, even after I tried to give you an out, I figured I'd been wrong. That maybe my soulmate was close by, but you weren't her. So I protected myself and did you in. Fucking sue me, okay?"

Korra ended her rant slightly out of breath. Her shoulders rose and fell and her nostrils flared.

"I'm sorry," Asami said.

Korra laughed guardedly. "For which thing?"

"For…" Asami bit her lip. "For upsetting you? Not sensing you? Killing you?" She sniffed. "But you don't understand about that last one. I didn't want to be a killer. I wanted to be an engineer, but they said no, and they would have tortured me. Those three Sisters you beat up a few years ago? My superiors used one of them as target practice! They cut up the other one while she was still alive and sold her organs! The one they spared has no hands anymore. All because they failed their missions. I…you don't…I…" she gasped, trying to catch her breath. The walls were closing in on her, the room was swimming.

"Woa, woa, it's okay. Shhh, it's okay." Warm arms enveloped her, and her brow rested on a strong, sturdy shoulder. "I've got you, Asami. It's okay."

"You don't understand," Asami sobbed, soaking Korra's shirt. "I can't die. Don't you realize what they can do with that? They…they'll…"

As Korra's warm arms tightened around her, Asami suddenly found the air easier to breathe. "Let them," Korra growled. "Let them fucking come for you, Asami. I'll take every last one of them out. They may have numbers behind them, but I have centuries. They don't stand a chance against me now that I've found you."

Something inside Asami vanished. She couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was—shame, anxiety, fear—but she found herself rejoicing in its absence nonetheless. Korra's arms were so warm, and her breathing so soothing. She nestled into her embrace and listened to the thrumming of her age-old heart.

Was this it? Was she waking up? She had thought for so long that such a thing was impossible. But, she reasoned as she closed her eyes, if dead girls could rise, if bullets could be useless, and if the ice could be pulled from her heart, then maybe, just maybe, some nightmares could end.