Day 2179
When Korra awoke, she felt somewhere between trampled by a pack of kimodo-rhinos and in the aftermaths of an Angi-Kai with Avatar Kyoshi.
Whatever infestation decided to burrow its way through the Earth Kingdom and infiltrated her immune system, did so and ten times more. She sent a halfhearted watery glare to the Spirits for everyday she woke up feeling like utter ostrich-horse shit.
From the corner of her room, Naga trudged forward, whining with heavy footsteps. Her wet nose nudged Korra awake.
Korra groaned, deep and out of place in her voice. The sound hurt, stinging her lungs until she was hacking up what can only be the bottom of her lungs.
"Ugh."
She rested her head on the polar-bear dog, whimpering into her lap.
"Alright, alright. We'll go for your walk."
"Good morning, Len."
The old woman behind the counter grunts in response. "Avatar Korra."
"How's that knee?"
More grunts and Len shook her head. "Still a pain in the ass, but it s'not gonna kill me."
Korra chuckled. "Nothing will."
Len smirked. "You got a few letters here." She plopped them onto the counter, and Korra sighed.
"Oh goody. Fanmail,"
She wound Naga's leash around one wrist, trudging along the dirt path.
She flipped through the letters, reading them indifferently, flipping through names of diplomats, nobles, sages, Tenzin-
Tenzin.
There were only a handful of people that Korra kept close contact with. Seven years weaned off those who were unimportant and kept those who stuck around heavy in her heart. Tenzin was one that wrote her weekly and each letter she kept pressed in between the pages of one of Aang's old journals.
She slipped the other letters into her pocket, tearing the top from the one she kept in her hand.
An hour later, her tea is hot water in her mouth, and she doesn't mind. She lets it sit in lie flat on her tongue, as she grabs a bowl for Naga's breakfast and flopped down on her bed to lace up her boots.
She made a mental agenda for that day, finished her boots, and sat quietly with Tenzin's open letter by her side. She sighed, her chest swelling with a breath she didn't know she had been holding. Naga raised her head in curiosity, and Korra's only explanation was to scratch her kindly behind her ear.
"Hey girl, how does Republic City sound?"
"Destruction of public property, damages to several parked cars, three buildings, and one part of a road. Twelve unpaid parking tickets, four overturned city-approved cart-merchants, and not to mention several reports of unnecessary vigilantly justice."
Lin Beifong flipped the clipboard onto the metal table, folding her arms across her chest.
"What do you have to say for yourself, Avatar Korra?"
Korra blinked, shaking the cuffs around her wrist. "Chief, if you missed me, you should have just said so."
She caught the twitch in Beifong's lip and she clung to it.
"Uh … I mean. I'm innocent I tell you!"
Chief Beifong leaned in across the table, quirking an eyebrow, unable to hide the quirk in her lip. "It's nice to see you again, Korra."
Korra smiled. "Same here, Lin."
What Korra eventually came to accept was, nothing – especially for the avatar – was accidental. Everything – everyone – was tied together.
Time was an illusion. It had to be. She once held the cold palm of Master Katara's between her own fingertips that screamed agony and grief. Her teacher, her old friend, her hope and light, could she really leave? Was that shuddering breath really her last? And though she cried - cried in mourning for days, and then in silence for weeks after - the lead of truth swam in the pit of her stomach, sinking like a stone, melting into her bones, and leaving crooked but strong stitches along her heart. She knew she had lived through this grief before. She had found the same souls time and time again. It wasn't their first encounter, and it wouldn't be their last.
And it was this realization; a part of Korra knew she would see Mako again.
Her young heart at twenty craved for that reunion, hoping they would collide like two sparks in the heat of the moment; connecting with their hands and tongues and sweet words. The Korra in the aftermath of their breakup, hoped to see him in scorn (or preferably never again). She caustically hoped he would be fat, bald, and openly gawking at the new arm candy she would tote around. But like the passionate reunions that use to invade her dreams, those callous thoughts fizzled out as well.
As many times as she thought about their eventual reunion, she never thought it would be a brief glance of him from across the police station. He didn't notice her, and she convinced herself that she could breath.
From behind her, Tenzin sighed heavily. "Lin, did you really have to arrest her?"
"Oh relax. I was going to drop the charges."
Out of the station door, into the numbing cold, she tuned Lin and Tenzin's bickering to mute and admitted quietly to herself that she almost didn't recognize him without his scarf.
Jinora is nineteen.
It swelled a sort of sadness in Korra's heart. No matter how she was stretched or pulled or shaped, the adult that stood before her would always remain the bright ten-year-old girl with her nose dug in a book. She had just a little taller and switched the book she kept hidden in her robes. That was all.
But if Jinora was still the same wise ten-year-old, then Korra was still the same horrible liar she was at seventeen (though some things never change)
Because Jinora is not the same.
It was obvious to her the moment Korra stepped off the ship and threw the four air-babies in her arms like she use to when they were all pint sized. Ikki squealed, Rohan yelped, Jinora laughed, and Meelo – well Meelo farted which led to their ungraceful landing on the pier moments later.
As they all scrambled to their feet, that's when Korra saw it - saw Jinora. It was only a glimpse, a flicker, but she caught it. (and then she was arrested, but even then, she couldn't deny that it was real)
And that night, it was clear as daylight. When she was sandwiched between Ikki's constant yammering and Rohan's elbow bumping against hers, she kept a keen eye on their new (new to her anyways) dinner guest. His name was Skoochy and if Korra's sidelong glance to Tenzin proved anything, it wasn't his first dinner with them, and it certainly didn't look like his last.
She cocked an eyebrow, and she swore she saw her airbending teacher shrug in what could only be resignation.
Before dessert, someone sent a gust of wind under the table and their joined hands fly out behind them, intertwined liked old lovers, laced together like the delicate spine of Jinora's favorite book.
"Meelo!" Jinora cried, her cheeks coloring.
"It wasn't me this time, I swear!"
Jinora – sweet, old soul, Jinora – was in love.
Korra wanted to grab her and pull her away from this emotional demolition. She wanted to warn her, tell her nothing will come out of this but a broken heart. But refrains from doing any of this when she sees Skoochy subtly reach for Jinora's hand again. She stops herself completely when Jinora returned the gesture, squeezing his hand gently.
Even though Jinora was only nineteen, she had been more of a woman at age ten, than Korra feels at twenty-six.
She tried to hide all warning signs and pained looks into her rice bowl. She'd known that look, felt that spark. She left it alone for now.
That night, the three of them - Jinora, Korra, and Ikki - are huddled together on the floor of Korra's old bedroom. Upon Ikki's insistence, they set up a fort out of blankets and pillows. Now, it was half past midnight, and Korra, as tight lip and with enough patience as she could muster, couldn't fight her inquires any longer.
"Jin?"
Jinora hummed softly, one arm thrown behind her head, eyes closed, but awake.
"Jinora," Korra whispered, poking her in the cheek playfully.
Jinora flinched, and Ikki giggled, cuddling closer to her sister's side.
"What?" Jinora whispered, turning on her side.
'"Do you love him?"
"Who?"
"You know who."
Ikki shifted between the two of them, now wide awake.
"Yeah Jinora, do you love him?" Ikki teased, poking her sister in the side.
Jinora smiled softly.
It's answer enough.
"Korra!"
"No!" Korra moaned, shrieking as she was pulled off the ground. "Bolin! No! You were not suppose to get any taller!"
He chuckled, the sound shaking the entire ground. "Sorry. I had to! How else am I suppose to do this?"
He set her down, tucked his arm around her neck, and the other musing and ruffling her hair.
"You little punk!" The Avatar cried. "You wait till I get my hands on you!"
Bolin only seemed to laugh harder, letting her go. She blew the hair from her eyes, glaring at her soon to be deceased best friend. Almost everything was the same. He still had those innocent dimples, and his turtleduck hair. But taller now and broader in the shoulders. And there was something else. Something …
"Korra!"
Oh.
"Asami!" she cried, running into the arms of the taller girl.
After the cuddles and the kisses in the freezing cold, Korra propped the door open to the restaurant, leaving them in the corner of her eye for their clasped hands and their "Hi Sweeties."
So that was it.
Fourteenth times the charm.
Or at least, that's how Korra lied to herself when she left yet another store, empty handed. Why was this so hard? Why weren't there stores especially designated to buying gifts for people who were in the wake of helping to restore a nation?
She spent the first part of the day in the city's vintage bookstores, nose deep in dust and running fingers across creased spines. Now she made a slow descent towards the west district. Maybe one of the old flea markets or local port sellers would have something worth the shiny yuans weighing the pocket stitched to the inside of her trousers.
("If you're shopping in the west, always keep your money on your skin")
Twenty minutes in the place was proven dud. Nothing about plastic jewelry or inexpensive winter coats says Jinora. She looked up and out, remembering a cart nearby that sold decent sticky buns and a good cup of tea.
Korra glared at her freshly brewed tea and extra-sticky sticky bun, wrapped in a blanket of snow, defeated warriors at her boots.
"Ma'am I'm so sorry. I'll get you-"
She whipped her glare, full of irritation at the stranger that had knocked into her, but half spluttered like a turtleduck out of water, reeling in the gut and a little shell shocked before she could process why.
"… another one," Mako finished, blinking slowly. "Korra …"
She blinked. "Mako."
His eyes drifted slowly back to the massacre between them.
"Look, I'm sorry about that. I wasn't watching where I was-"
"It's okay," she interjected.
"I should have been paying more attention-"
"It's fine."
"Are you sure? I can-"
"No it's alright. I wasn't that hungry anyways-"
Her stomach growled, the sound raging as it clawed against the walls of her belly. Mako cocked an eyebrow, and she would have punched herself but she didn't want to look like an idiot. Not that it really mattered; what Mako thought of her dissipated a long time ago.
Ten minutes later, they were in the middle of the cart line, their awkward silence diffused in twiddling thumbs and avoided eye contact.
"Lunch rush," Korra remarked.
Mako nodded. "Yeah."
Korra glowered. This was all his fault. She had assured him that it was fine, she insisted. But Spirits-be-damned he was so stubborn. He offered, insisted, even went as far as to try to give her money, but the end result was the two of them, soaked to the brim of their hats with a thick coat of unease. Couldn't he have just ignored her with some prissy offhanded comment and gone about his way? It seemed to come so easily to him ten years ago. But no. Now she was in the middle of the West District, waiting for a cup of tea with her ex-boyfriend, making analog conversation to fill in the silence. Oh, and she still hadn't found a gift for Jinora.
Spirits, what a good day.
"How long have you been in town?"
She shifted the snow with her boot. "I got in yesterday."
"Oh."
"Um … How have you been?"
"Uh. Good. I've been good."
It was so damned awkward. What had happened? Well, she knew what had happened, she was one half the reason. Even though she knew she would see Mako again, a part of her wished it had stayed simply a spare glance thrown from a distance. Not this. Spirits, never this. But was it just that? Was their relationship doomed to be run-ins, forced conversations, and plastic smiles? She really hoped not, because even when she was a thousand miles away, even if the last real conversation they had wasn't her favorite, she still had a handful of letters for him (half she had forgotten to send, and half she wrote every once in a while when she hit a bottle of fire-whisky too hard). That had to mean something. (…right?)
"Korra?"
"Hmm. I'm sorry, what?"
"I uh, I asked you how you were?"
"Oh. Good. I've been good."
"Good."
" Mako?"
He barely meets her eye, and answers with a soft hum. "Yeah?
She opens her mouth, but they've reached the front of the line, and the words die in her throat.
They're beyond years of heartbreak and quiet resignation.
She was forced to stand still for far too long, now she was unable to stop running. He'd been running for so long, stillness meant he could finally breathe.
'So this is me,"She made a general wave toward the ferry dock.
"Um, sorry again about your tea."
She could only offer what she hoped came off as a smile. "Don't worry about it."
"Hey-
"So I-"
They both stop, and stand sheepishly. Her tea burned her fingers.
"You go."
He cleared his throat. "Um, I'm on my way to see Bo and Asami. Do you-"
In her head, she told him it was alright. She had seen them not even a few hours ago, and she would probably see them again tomorrow, and he should enjoy his time with them because she remembers how few days off when he had when he was a rookie (What was he now? Did he ever make it to detective?)
"-wanna …?"
He left the end empty, letting her fill in the gaps and while her mind whispered no, her mouth said "Okay"
Asami was so surprise to see her, her eyebrows practically disappeared into her hairline. Bolin was a little more subtle. She sees the two brothers exchange a look so quick and discrete, that she's afraid she almost misses it. It's a breath in the air, evaporated in a millisecond, and before she knew it, Bolin lifted her off the ground again, and she was yelling, her fists pounding into the small of his back.
They stole a corner booth in Narooks and it felt like nearly a decade ago where the four of them would huddle together and share stories, and use juvenile humor to alleviate stress.
Except everything was a little different. Mako and Korra sit as far away from each on their side of the booth as possible, and Bolin and Asami are no longer throwing each other sly looks across the table. But everything was okay. Everything was as it should be.
Asami waved thank you to the bartender, placing a pitcher into Korra's hand, as she took the other one.
Asami raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow in question. Korra sighed.
"Don't ask."
They shuffle into the back of the Satomobile. Her arm brushes his when he props the door open for her. The air is thick and suffocating, because as luxurious as the interior is designed, in the end it's just a car and not meant to hold two people and their three tons of emotional baggage.
The young Avatar hated crying. But when her mentor by her side, tall, proud, and noble like his ancestors, wept silently, tears slipped down her own cheeks. She grasped Tenzin's hand, and he took it firmly.
She was so brave.
The pride she feels for her little sister (because that's what she was, that's how she felt towards all of them; they were her family) radiated warm and pounded like a heartbeat in her chest. Jinora was a warrior.
Bloodshot eyes, head devoid of worldly attachment, hand in hand with a boy who loved her wholeheartedly.
The tattoos that danced on her skin were graceful and awe-inducing. Everything Jinora was.
Sometimes she wished she could see the world as Jinora sees it. A world probably like a kaleidoscope, filled with a thousand colors. She wishes she could have left Republic City, with eyes that bright, and a heart that ready to give.
It dawned on her that yes, she was also nineteen when she embarked on the world. When she stood on a ship deck, leaving everything behind, braving a new world that needed her. Jinora let herself start fresh. Jinora was an airbender, true and honest. Jinora knew how to let go. Jinora was a leaf in the wind. Selfless, true, and understanding. She held a legacy on her shoulders and marched with it, heavy, but proud.
With a breath half underwater, Korra found the resolve she had been searching for, for years. She had to move forward.
It's well after the festivities are over, when the two of them are barefoot in the gazebo they had shared many mediations in.
"I know we're not suppose to give you gifts, because its deemed inappropriate, but lets just say … this is an early birthday gift." The Avatar quirked a small smile.
She reached behind her back, but Jinora stopped her before she could start. Her eyes were already wet; it had been an emotional night.
"Wait."
She took a shaky breath.
"Can-can whatever my gift be, for you to stay? Just a little while longer?"
Years of Avatar training, doesn't teach her how to lie. Instead, she pulled the present from behind her back, and the borderline tears Jinora had been holding back, spill forward like a broken dam.
"This was your grandpa's," Korra explained. "This was the glider he used during the Invasion of the Fire Nation. It has a snack compartment."
She pulled at the rusted level to shows her.
Korra offered a full-hearted smile, and it's all she can do to keep composed, because Jinora was weeping. "A-Aang says he's so proud of you."
It was enough for now. Jinora cried in her arms, and thanked her.
When Chief asked him where he saw himself in the next five years, he has to be honest and say probably still behind his desk full of paperwork
He has no wife, no family (sans Bolin and Asami), and no obligation to any other person at the moment.
So when he's asked, if he would someday be interested in becoming the Chief of Police, his answer tumbled form his mouth clumsily as if they knew the answer before he ever thought about it.
After years on the force, Mako's seen his fair share of secrets. Hidden evidence, silent deals, every crooked piece of information that he's come across is enough for him to be numb to surprises.
But nothing, nothing at all, prepared him for the shock he felt when he looked up from his desk and found Korra standing above him.
He didn't – couldn't – say anything. Just blinked up at her like a cat deer caught in the headlights.
She coughed, setting a bag on his desk. "Here."
He took the crumpled white bag from her, without thinking, without breathing really.
"They're a … thank you for the other day."
He peeked inside the bag and there are about a dozen almond biscuits.
He opened his mouth to protest. She doesn't owe him anything. He was the one who knocked over her tea in the first place-
"Can we talk?"
Oh.
Oh.
They sat on the steps of the police station. He offered her a biscuit and she ate half the bag before he can get to one. He smiled softly, even though he felt uneasy. There were some things about Korra, - about everyone – that wouldn't change (or at least that's what he hoped). He fished out his first, chewing slowly. She wanted to talk, but as of now, she hasn't said anything.
So instead, he started.
"Some of the new recruits did security work for Jinora's ceremony last night. I heard she was …"
"Amazing."
He nods. "Yeah."
She sighed, slipping her hands into the pockets of her parka.
"Jinora is amazing," Korra breatheed out. "I want to be her when I grow up."
He chuckled softly. "Don't we all?"
Korra tilted her head. "You should have come."
He brushed some crumbs off his pants and doesn't answer. She reached into the bag and took another cookie.
"How much longer are you here?"
She broke it in half, eyeing the jagged edges to avoid his gaze. "Just for another day. I leave the day after tomorrow."
"Wow. Talk about a short vacation."
"Yeah? Well you're one to talk." She managed a smile. It's small, but not strained like it had been. "Word around the station is, they call you Mr. Around the Clock."
Mako raised his free arm in defense. It kpet the smile on her face.
She takes another cookie. "And I can only afford to be away for a couple of days."
He nodded. He understood.
They shifted into silence for a moment. Korra closed her eyes, the words balanced on the tip of her tongue, but he beat her to it.
"I hope you have a safe trip back."
Korra flushed. He had been earnest and it made the tip of her ears feel warm. He was on his feet, a few steps down, offering her the bag with an outstretched hand.
She took it with both hands. He offered a full-fledged half smile, before making his way back to towards the police station. Korra blinked, fingers crinkling paper. Was that it? Was that closure? Was that a peace offering? Did everything that happened so long ago, cease to exist up till this moment? She should have felt relieved, light as a feather, free and unburdened like a leaf in the wind, but the only thing she felt was unsettled. They had moved on (right?). This was suppose to be the end. Spare for a fleeting glance across a crowded room, their story in this lifetime came to a halt; came to this halt. They were on the last reel of a classic talkie, and the end credits were in the clear.
So why hadn't she walked away? Why hadn't she left it at that? The words, the ones she so carefully crafted on the ferry ride here, falls like an acrobat off the tightrope without a net.
She stood quickly. "Mako."
He turned.
The words were quiet, like they were meant to be spilled to the air and the air only.
"Happy Anniversary."
She was suppose to move forward. Instead, she moved a thousand and a half steps back.
She played the tail end of their conversation over and over again in her head. Each time, feeling her own stupidity like a blow to the face.
The façade they had both pinned up for one another collapsed. They stood raw and open as the thing they never wanted to admit being in the first place.
His eyes were cold. His jaw was set tight and he had to take a moment, just for himself, to stow all of his emotions away, tuck them neatly into the pressed pocket of his uniform.
"You need to get over it, Korra."
She sunk lower into her seat on the ferry.
"You need to get over it, Korra."
She casted her gaze to the shore, stars spilling their kindness into the dark waves and it twinkled a million different shades.
She realized moving forward meant being honest with herself.
The truth was, he won't find the way out of her heart.
He never would.
He stared at the same sheet of paper for Spirits-knows-how-long. The ink blurred under his eyes.
For running like she did, he's bitter.
Because she didn't stay
Because he wasn't worth staying for.
He picked up his pen, and for the umpteenth time, and tries as he has been for the past some odd years, to forget.
It's tucked in the bottom of her suitcase inside a paper bag. She feels the need to protect it, because that's what it does. The very essence of the word was sewn into every fiber.
But she's kept it with her through all her travels, in every part of the world. It was only for the past year or so that she kept it hidden. Secure, but hidden.
After six years, she still thinks of it as his.
She lets it unravel in her hands. The threads sighing, as they release a thousand wishes into the air.
It was late when he returns home. Body sore, feeling a headache teetering on the edge of his brow, but for once, it was not because of the feeling of justice that fall from his shoulder. It was in the midst of his trudge back to his apartment, right at the door of his building, is when he sees her. Dimmed down in the streetlights, Naga in tow. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold, as if she's been outside for too long.
"Hi."
His breath came out in a white cloud. "Hi."
An awkward beat of silenced passed between them.
"Look-" Korra began
"I-" Mako started
It's uneasy again, and Korra sighed. "You first."
"I just .." He rubbed the back of his neck. An old habit he picked up when he was uncomfortable. "I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry about earlier. I guess I just let old feelings …"
It had always been hard for him, hard for the both of them. He sighed, dropping his hand. "I don't want you to leave with any bad feelings between us."
"Right" She nodded. "We should just move on."
He nodded in agreement. "Exactly."
"Well I'm glad we're on the same page. Here, this is for you."
He blinked, this must be a new found habit of hers. Handing him things in paper bags. "Uh, thanks." He tipped the bag close to him. One finger dipped inside the brown paper, to peek at the contents. At the sight of something scarlet, his eyes darkened.
Something fizzled in the air around them. Static clung to the space between them.
His jaw locked and unlocked. "Are you trying to be funny?"
"What?" Her brow crinkled. "No."
"Then what the hell are you doing, Korra?"
"It's your scarf. I'm returning it to you."
"I don't want it," he ground out, his eyes dark with anger. He tossed the bag back at her.
She caught it with ease, fists crinkling the brown paper. This was suppose to be the easy part. This was her apology, her closure. This was their mutual agreement to move on. She fished out the scarf, fisting it tightly in her hand.
"Here." She thrusts it out in her hand, holding it in her outstretched arm. It only spiked his anger. (He just doesn't understand if she holds it any closer, it might break her)
"Take it back."
"No."
She shook it angrily. "Take. It. Back."
"No. I gave that to you. You're suppose to keep it."
"Well I don't want it!" She yelled, throwing it in the space between them. "I never wanted it!"
It's one of the few times the wound hurts a lot more than it looked. Because to him, it wasn't just a scarf. In each phase of his life, his scarf was more than just a piece of ratty, weathered fabric. It was the only physical keepsake from his father. It was what fed two street rat orphans hope, in the darkest of city alleyways and starving nights. It was what kept him safe, and secure, and sane all his life. And when he gave it to Korra, it was more than that. Yes, he'd meant for it to keep her safe, to have as a piece of him when she was far from home. But it was also a promise. A proposal.
It was also, a rash, last minute, completely immature way, of asking her to stay.
"What did you think was going to happen, Mako?" She asked, only a little angry, but all around exasperated (six years worth). "Did you really think I was going to drop everything and just stay with you? I couldn't even if I wanted to."
He narrowed his eyes in anger, mostly at himself. Of course she would see through him. She always managed to break him open.
"It wouldn't have mattered what I did."
"You could have come with me," she argued.
"That wasn't an option."
"You could have tried."
"And do what? Sit around all day and wait for you to come home from saving the world? Be your little tag-along Avatar-accessory? Either way, we'd end up right here," he retorted bitterly. His hands clenched in fists by his sides. "We both knew this would have happened eventually. "
She's stunned. "What is that suppose to mean?"
"You're always looking for the next best thing, Korra. You're always trying to find something better. Whether it's how you bend, or where you live, or how you see the world. I don't know why I was so surprised when you did it with us."
He spat out his final words, looking bitterly towards the ground, where his scarf lays, spilt like a glass of promises.
She felt her fists tighten, and her jaw lock. Wasn't it agreed on, eons ago, that she was the Avatar and he was an idiot? Did that still stand as truth?
"You're an idiot," she told him.
"And you're the Avatar," he dealt back (he does remember, it's faint, but he does). "Looks like neither of us could deal with it."
She took in one final, shaky breath. She was so angry, confused at why she was angry, and annoyed because she was confused. She couldn't stand there or else she would wind up doing something she'd regret, saying something she shouldn't.
In the end, Korra walked away.
And once again, Mako watched her go.
She would have kicked down the door of Asami's apartment, but she had been away for six years, and she hasn't been back for even two weeks, so the notion seemed a little violent. She just settled for knocking loudly and insistently at an unholy hour in the night.
Despite it being three in the morning, Asami threw open the door, looking irritated and tired, but still prim and pressed with perfect hair.
Korra made a face. "You're disgusting."
Asami glared. "Thanks."
The two women stare at each other. It took half a second, but Korra throws her arms around her friend. She wasn't crying, just exhausted.
Asami blinked, but returns the gesture, wrapping her arms around the shorter girl.
"Can I talk about it now?"
She felt more than saw Asami nod.
"Of course."
She stumbled back to Air Temple Island a few hours later. Pema smiles softly at her as she plopped down at the breakfast table, serving Tenzin his tea first before filling everyone else.
She spent that day with her brothers and sisters, playing airball, air tag, and racing sky bisons.
At one point, Rohan managed to knock her over with a well-executed airball. She chased him around the temple on an air scooter, until he tagged teamed with Meelo and Ikki and it was the three of them dancing around her, mixing the dust with their laughter bouncing in the sky. It's the most fun she's had since she's returned to the city.
At work, he brooded over a cup of tea and yelled at two rookies about a sloppy report. He made one cry and while Lin couldn't hide her smile, she does call him into her office.
He was apologizing before he even stepped foot through the door. He offered to take another twenty-four-hour shift (the Beifong approved way to apologize), but she holds up her hand before he gives up all his vacation days, again.
"Mako."
"Yes Chief?"
"Just … take the rest of the day off."
He doesn't argue. Just bowed his head low. "Yes Chief."
He grabbed his coat off the back of his chair, and left, braving himself to face an empty apartment.
"Good morning, Sifu Tenzin."
She bowed, hand over fist, low and respectful. He nodded in return.
"Good morning, Avatar Korra."
"May I meditate with you?"
He smiled the kindest smile she had ever received from anyone. She sat across from him, legs crossed, back straight. Just like he taught her. She inhaled, deep from the core of her spirit, and voided her mind.
"You have a long journey ahead of you."
If he meant her work in the Earth Kingdom, then he was partly correct. If he meant something else, well she wouldn't be surprised.
Her flight versus fight instincts, jarred her. She forced herself to be still.
"I'm so proud of everything you've accomplished and the woman you have become. Having known two Avatars, I understand, while being the Avatar is vital for balance in the world, it can often at times be a strenuous and lonely journey. "
He smiled at her with kind eyes. Korra does her best to pacify the lump in her throat.
"I would like to offer you Air Temple Island as one of your home. You are always welcome here. We've missed you very much, Korra. We hope to see you again very soon."
Tenzin is one, of the handful of people, she would ever cry in front of. He was there for her at her lowest moment, when she was nothing but a child trying to brave the world. Now, she was a woman, who had been running for so long, being still made it hard to breath.
She cried, and nodded.
"You'll write?"
"Of course."
"And call?"
"All the time."
"You'll come to the wedding?"
"I- … What?"
Asami bit her lip, fighting to keep her smile in check. She raised her hand, fingers slanted downward to showcase her newest and possibly most favorite accessory.
Korra collected her jaw off the floor.
"Bolin!" she cried down the hallway.
On cue, Bolin, sporting a fresh head of bed hair, stumbled down the hallway, a grin on his face.
"Oh, hello there, Korra. It's nice-"
"When?"
"Last night," Asami answered sweetly, kissing her boyfriend – fiancé – on the cheek.
Korra tackled them both to the floor.
"Are you sure you can't stay a little longer?"
Korra shook her head no.
Asami set down her teacup. "At least let us take you to the port tonight."
Again, another no.
Asami threw her sad look into her cold tea. Bolin hid his, in his smile. He does what he had been doing for the past few days, throwing her in his arms. He armadillo-bear hugged her, squeezing her tightly. She doesn't protest, just squeezed him back, as firm, as real as the element they share. He pulled away, planting a big sloppy kiss on her cheek.
"I'm gonna miss you," he mumbled
Korra smiled. "I'm going to miss you."
When Asami hugged her, it's just as tight. Korra wished she could stay with them a little longer.
"It's just me."
Mako sighed, extinguishing the fire in his hand. He had been trying to take a nap (a failed attempt in all parts) but was interrupted when he heard a noise from the living room. His instinct told him to put a flame in his hand and he did. He'd been wired to expect the worse, years before he had enrolled in the academy. While he had been tired before, there was no chance of him sleeping afterwards. He edged out of his room, light on his feet, prepared for the anything.
But it was just Asami. With lunch. For him.
Asami cocked her head to the side. "You sleep in your police uniform? Why is that not surprising?"
Mako sighed, relieved that it's not a robber, but at the same time kind of wsihed it was.
"Here, this is for you."
She pushed a container his way. It was roasted duck congee, his favorite.
"I heard about what happened between you and Korra."
Mako blew the steam away from his spoon. "Oh."
"What?"
"I'm on the force Asami, I know an execution when I see one." He put the spoon in his mouth. It burned his tongue. "This is my last meal, before you kill me."
Asami rolled her eyes, ripping open a soy sauce packet. "Oh yes. You've found me out."
He smiled despite himself, and sets his spoon down, waiting for her to continue. He had this conversation coming for over a year now.
"I think you should go talk to her."
He shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea.
"Why not?"
It took a moment, but he found the same spiel he had running through his head for a while now.
"Korra and I have a lot of history, most of it is yelling and fighting and hurting one another. And every time we try talking to one another, it only seems to add to that.
Asami nodded slowly.
"Maybe it's just best if we leave it where it was."
He eyed the scarf that hangs on hook above his coat.
"And forget it ever happened."
He mentally kicked himself, punched himself in the gut, burned his legs off, and slammed his head against a cinderblock. That was what he should have done all along.
She leaned forward on her elbows. "Is that what you really want?"
He smiled sadly. That never seemed to matter.
"Here."
She grabbed a napkin and dug a pen from her purse.
Mako hated the seaport. The smell reminded him of all those years ago where he and Bolin worked on a dock for a man that had them scrape and clean the fish for sale in the local markets. Every time he stepped near the port, he felt his hands prune and the smell raked through his body.
This time, it was no different from the others, but his hands clammed up for a different reason.
It was almost dark. The sun barely licked over the horizon, tipping its light into the water like a blessing. All the boats lined up one by one, bopping up and down in the meandering nightfall. He set a hand over his brow, finding her in the distance.
She stopped, her bag barely settled onto her shoulder, when she sensed him before she actually aw him. Her mouth forms a small "o" of surprise. She turned away quickly, tugging on Naga's leash, in what he only assumed was some rash attempt at avoiding him.
She fought with herself, unsure of which path to take. She found resolve, and seeing that he was already walking towards her. She forced her feet to move, forced herself to meet him halfway.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"How did you …?"
"Asami told me."
"Oh."
"I just came to say goodbye," he explained. "That's it."
"Oh," she repeated.
He inhaled deeply, releasing a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding.
"Goodbye Korra. I hope you have a safe trip."
"Thank you," she said quietly.
He turned to go, the surrealism of what just happened, frazzled him slightly. He stopped when she hears him call his name.
"I'm coming back this time."
He turned to face her.
"I'm not running away anymore." She gripped Naga's leash like a safety net. "There are some things I have to take care of, but I will be back."
He's stunned. He wanted to trust her words. A part of him knew he should have a long time ago. He should tell her that. Instead he said, "You were never running away. You're the Avatar. You have to keep balance to the world. You couldn't do that if you just stayed here."
He waited for her to respond, but she doesn't. He stepped forward. "I wish I had been able to understand that before."
She doesn't answer. Instead, she reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. Weaving hands like the torn stitches of the scarf that laid around his neck. Her palm was warm and familiar, like something he'd forgotten.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so, so sorry. For all of it. But you were right. I was trying to look for something better. But not with you. Not with us. I was … I had to …"
"I know." He gave her hand a firm squeeze.
From a distance, they could have been mistaken for lovers again. Huddled so close, only breaths away from each other. For so long, they had been two broken people, what could only be called a broken engagement. Now, they were uncoiling the mess they created. Healing the scars they earned in their unraveling. He kept her words, letting them work through his skin, soothing the burn like an aloe. It only began to scratch the surface, but it was a start. She gave his hand one last squeeze before letting it fall to his side.
He unwound the scarf from around his neck and handed it to her.
"It hasn't been mine in a long time," he told her simply, and she took it without question, allowed its weight to settle in her hands before wrapping it around her neck.
She wore it like armor, closing her eyes as she told him, "I'm not going to ask you to wait for me this time. It's selfish and it's not fair to either of us."
When she opened them again, there's a fog in the familiar aquamarine, but he was more than certain his eyes were the same. She took another step back. Then another. And another. Until it's nothing but the blue of her back and Naga's wagging tail. She's close but she's a thousand miles away.
"Korra!"
She was still, her throat tight, almost afraid to face him again, for what he might have to say. She knew she has to go, she still a second half of a city to reconstruct, promises to complete to this world. It would be completely unacceptable. But … if he asked her stay, she was scared she wouldn't be able to say no.
But she found brute courage under her resolve and turned to face him.
He was smiling. "I'll be here when you get back."
Warmth blossomed in her throat, it bubbled to the surface until he spread everywhere, warming her down to her fingertips. She nodded, once in understanding, and again to conceal her happiness. She ave one final tug on Naga's leash and they strode towards her ship.
She turned to him, one last time. The wind picked up the end of his scarf, twining in the air before falling dutifully by her side. She smiled.
And then she was gone.
Day 1
A/N: Wow, can you believe it's been a week already? Man time sure flies when you lie …
Well that's it folks. I know it was kind of rushed and a bit meh all around, but I think there may be a sequel sometime in the future? Who knows
