The Legend of Korra is owned by Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino.
When you lie in bed next to her, your hand stroking absently through her hair, you sometimes think your life hadn't really started until you met her.
Mako wasn't your first boyfriend, but he was the first boy you'd loved. You were very much in love with him when she wandered into your life, blustering into your least favorite class, late, with a paradoxical bashful arrogance. She was attractive of course, but it was her light that made her truly beautiful. You'd find out later she carried heavy burdens, but that day you just saw a brightness that filled you with warmth, a hope that you'd forever associate with her: Korra.
You went to absurd lengths to engage her in conversation in band, going so far as to engineer a quick fix to her ornery euphonium, despite her obvious disinterest in talking to you. You were genuinely surprised when she accepted your invitation to hang out at your house with Mako and Bolin. When Mako so ungracefully mentioned that she was in foster care—a fact that you later decided you should have discerned on your own based on her frequent stutters when referring to her family—you were astonished and even more so, proud. She had done so well without the support of her parents; her shyness frequently overpowered her personality, but the flashes of the girl you'd seen showed you a quick sense of humor, a strong student, and a dedicated athlete. More than that, her certain loneliness had not dimmed the light that shined in her. The years in state custody with no home to call her own and no family to love her should have cast an irrevocable shadow upon her, but she remained untouched. You were no stranger to the consequences of actual or effective orphan hood; after all, Mako and Bolin had spent years in the system.
It hurt you with a terrifying and penetrating pain when Mako began to pull away from you. As a child you discovered that the more you learned, the more the world made sense. So you spent thousands of hours reading and building, trying to bring order to the chaos left in the wake of your mother's death. Your world once again tilted off kilter when Mako distanced himself because you didn't know why. You held on tighter and tighter and tighter until your relationship crumbled in your hands. Only then, one fall day at a cross-country meet, did you discover why: Korra.
Opal talked with you in the hours before your official breakup with Mako, telling you all the things a best friend should: he doesn't deserve you, you're better than she is, you'll find someone new. But Opal's comforts rang hollow because you knew the truth. She was the embodiment of strength and light; there was no one better. As much as you felt like your six year old self, scrambling to hold onto your sense of self in the vast landscape of a world with rules you didn't comprehend, you couldn't help but sympathize with Mako's choice. She would always be everything you weren't.
A few nights after your breakup, you were laying on your bed, trying not to imagine Mako making out with her, an exercise they were almost certainly currently engaged in. Your father strolled into your room without knocking—his consistent absentmindedness made this a frequent occurrence—dragged your desk chair over beside your bed, and asked what was wrong. You sketched out the basics of your breakup with Mako, and he said the all of the things a father should: he's a nice boy, but you're meant for bigger things; someday you'll meet someone new; and I know it hurts right now, but it will get better. You appreciated your father's attempt, but it didn't fill the pit of fear that had been widening in your stomach since you met her. So you asked him if he would still love you if you liked girls too. You knew you'd never forget the way he heaved a weary sigh, removed his glasses to clean them on his crisp linen shirt, and said, "Mach, I know you have a crush on Korra. I've suspected that you're bisexual for years. It's never had any bearing on my love for you. You'll always be my little girl." His childhood nickname for you, born out of your desire for speed from a young age, meant as much to you as his affirmations. It was also the first time since your breakup that the nausea subsided and you could be happy for her and Mako.
Of course, their relationship couldn't endure the capriciousness of teenage hormones and inherent stubbornness. It was then your observations of her turned up something new: she had an impulsive streak. You understood and supported her physical defense of the freshman boy, but you couldn't help but shake your head at her hastiness in cursing at Mako after hearing him corroborate the bullies' story. He had told you later that he and the freshman student had defended her actions, but her reaction to the confrontation meant certain suspension. After that you watched her closer with a resolve to keep her out of trouble. Her arrest record was effectively taped like a target to her back, waiting to destroy her hopes and dreams. Opal and Bolin swore to take up your legacy after you graduated.
The summer after graduation brought more dramatic changes than you had anticipated. On top of preparing for college and saying goodbye to friends, you also suddenly had to contend with your father's imprisonment, a flagging company, and having your summer cut short in order to squeeze in an extra semester of coursework. The changes were hard, but your father's betrayal threatened to destroy you. You walked through life half aware of your surroundings, skating through your classes on sheer intellect. As your classmates chattered before and after class, organizing study groups and forming friendships, you found yourself on the outside. You sometimes felt left out, but if you were honest, your isolation was more than a little self-imposed. Future Industries' legacy, trust upon you so prematurely, hung over your head like the sword of Damocles, ready to impale you at any moment. Somehow, you didn't think your classmates would understand. Oddly, it was a girl your junior that managed to break through your haze of fear and impending doom with a sharp edged understanding and a disarming charm: Korra.
You found yourself pouring out all of your insecurities, all of your feelings about your father's decisions. For the first time in years you let yourself remember your mother and her wicked and untimely death. You let yourself wonder what she would say about the mess that had become your life. She would certainly condemn your father's actions, but you didn't know how she would feel about keeping the company in the family. You didn't know because she was gone and thinking about this was a fruitless exercise. Still you ruminated on the matter and let it fester. For each decision you made, you masticated the options, parsing out the potential ways to make your long-dead mother proud. One day you met a boy who distracted you: Iroh.
He was tall and handsome and nice and stable and mature; these were all things you needed in your life at the moment, but most importantly, he was there. You were both busy, so your romantic contact was limited in the first few months. Most of the time you spent together involved working on schoolwork in the same vicinity. As you grew closer you discovered he didn't fill you with the same fire that Mako had in the beginning of your relationship and he didn't make your stomach leap the way she did, but he was comfortable and safe and there. When you gave yourself to him, it wasn't passionate, but it was enough.
All of your fears came rushing back upon your return to Republic City for the holidays. Holidays were hard in general since you lost your mom, but you didn't know how you could face them this year with your father in prison. Thankfully, she stepped in, once more filling you with a hope you didn't know you needed. On the eve of the winter solstice, she brought an end to your fears by telling you your mother would have been proud. Her reasoning was grounded in emotion and experience rather than logic, but you would allow it to comfort you just this once because you needed it and because it was her: Korra.
She looked beautiful in the dress Pema had picked out for Future Industries' ball. You could tell she was uncomfortable, but it wasn't until years later that you found out why. As you worked your fingers through her hair, trying to style it in a way that would remind her of home, you chattered aimlessly, your nerves over her proximity getting the better of you. You couldn't help it; the quiet, unassuming strength you knew she possessed had become a raw physicality in the months since you'd last seen her.
Her body was important to her. You knew she had tentatively been offered several full scholarships for soccer, something she had worked so hard for, for so long. She honed her muscles in the weight room, strove for endurance on trails, hurtled for speed in agility training, and commanded control on the field. Though she only hinted at it in emails, you knew she had a tremendous amount of expectations resting on her shoulders, a burden that all of her weightlifting couldn't prepare her for. Her various teams counted on her to be a super-human force on the field, but that was a two-pound hand weight compared to the barbell of pressure she felt to make the various youth national teams and eventually the actual national team when she was ready. Even then she would be expected to act as a role model at all times and would be required to continually fight for her spot.
Apart from soccer, you knew she had a desperate desire to belong. Her family had all but abandoned her and her poor choices had prevented her from cleaving to a new one. Tenzin's family was her last hope for a family, and though she loved them and was loved in return, you knew she feared taking one misstep and destroying everything she'd worked for. You wished you could take on some of this weight for her, but you knew you didn't have the strength to do more than encourage her. Perhaps she didn't need it because she carried around her burdens with a self-deprecating grin, something you'd never managed to perfect. She had pride, but she wasn't afraid to set it aside when she needed something; yours, however, ran deep.
During her senior year of high school, her pride almost destroyed any hope of reunification with her parents, while yours helped you to keep your failing company afloat. In the end, you'd helped each other. You convinced her to call her father when she was so, so mad at him for ruining her life. She'd forgiven him and he had managed to clear his name. In return, he had worked out a way to contract with your company so that you didn't have to close your doors. When you attended her scholarship signing and hugged her for the first time, you could hardly bring yourself to let go. It was then that you realized you loved her, but you rapidly shoved aside those thoughts because you were trying hard to love him instead: Iroh.
You and Iroh both lived in Republic City, so you saw quite a lot of one another. He was always around, which was what you needed most. You needed someone to talk you down when you had a bad day at work. You needed someone to hold you when the ghosts of your past haunted your days and nightmares devoured your nights. And you needed the intimacy that comes with sex. He provided all of that and loved you wholeheartedly. In return, you told him, others, and yourself that you loved him back. And you did, but, in a deep chasm of your heart, you hid the truth; there was only one person: Korra.
You were nervous for her as she prepared for college. It was a tough transition for anyone, but especially for a Water Tribe girl moving to the Earth Kingdom after she'd finally found the security and love of a family she'd desired her whole life. You knew she didn't trust Pema and Tenzin's promises to continue to be a family, so you resolved to remind her whenever she forgot. On the night before she left, you stood on the gazebo once again, but this time you offered the reassurances she needed. You were stunned to hear that she didn't trust your friendship either. With an open expression and a comforting hand, you told her the truth: her emails meant everything to you.
She started summer training and you focused on your company. Now that you had a steady cash flow, your job was starting to become fun. You didn't get to design as much as you would have liked, but you did enjoy encouraging the creativity of others. Seeing your name on designs that would make a difference in the world filled you with pride. So did receiving an award for turning your company into one of transparency.
The best part of your fall, however, was heading to Zaofu to surprise her. Ice cold jealousy shot through you when you realized she had a crush on Kuvira, despite the fact that Kuvira was engaged and apparently straight. You prodded and teased to get her to admit it, but she remained clueless, so you stopped lest you force her into outing herself before she was ready.
Not long after, she called you, frantic, saying that Tenzin and his family were being held hostage and asking what she should do. You shared her helplessness, but you couldn't abandon her, so you made some calls and flew out to Ba Sing Se to pick her up. You sat in silence for a long time, neither of you knowing what to say. You were terrified to learn her plan because in your heart you knew what she was going to do, but you still asked her. When she made a joke about dying, you couldn't bear it anymore and you didn't know how she could. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. You repeated this to yourself over and over. You couldn't lose another person you loved, so you promised to save her. When you landed your jet and stepped outside, you embraced her fiercer than was appropriate for friends, but you didn't care.
As she walked away from you with the strength of a god, your world ended.
A/N: I went with 2nd person because 1st and 3rd were sounding too much like Korra's voice. Hopefully that's okay. This will be a two-shot. Thank you so much for all of your support!
