Dreams

The first time Asami saw Korra, she was standing in the middle of the gala floor in City Hall, standing ill at ease in a blue gown. Mako, on Asami's arm, whispered to her that he was sure they'd get along great.

Asami felt a sharp pang of dislike.

She didn't know why. She wasn't used to hating strangers on sight. She had dreamed of being friends with the Avatar, so what was this feeling?

The Avatar approached. Her father introduced them. "This is my daughter, Asami."

"It's lovely to meet you. Mako's told me so much about you," Asami said, elegant as could be.

"Really?" Korra replied, her arms crossed. "Because he hasn't mentioned you at all."

Asami's smile became fixed. Her dislike intensified, and for a moment it overruled her curiosity. But it passed. She did not shed her mask of charm. Yasuko had taught her to be charming.

Besides, why shouldn't Korra be stiff? The Avatar had been sheltered all her life, among good, simple Water Tribe folk, and here she was in the middle of a gala swarming with the upper crust. Who wouldn't be uncomfortable? And so, Asami gave the Avatar a pass.

That night, Asami had a dream.

In the dream, she was wearing a gown of blue wool, and silver pelts weighed down her shoulders. There were flowers in her hair. Around her neck was a stripe as blue as hope. She passed over bridges in a city of ice, a city that smelled of the sea. It was dark, but the moonlight grew steadily brighter and brighter. Soon the city was washed in silver.

Asami moved into a grove where grass grew, and the air was warm and sweet. She stepped onto a bridge and saw a man there, a man who was very like Korra – strong and sure, never afraid a day in his life. Asami's heart swelled with love to see him.

A movement in the water below caught her eye. She looked down –the waters stirred – there was light down there, and a force moving towards her, a terrible leviathan –

Claws whirled around her. She was sucked into the water, drawn deep, deep under. The moonlight vanished. As she choked, a name filled her mind, a name of terror and emptiness –

She awoke with a cry, sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat. Her heart raced.

The rest of the night she spent sitting awake, reading engineering manuals and trying to forget.

000

The daylight put the strange dream into perspective. A silly nightmare, that was all. Nightmares and sudden unexplained bursts of antipathy were nothing compared to the new, all-consuming presence in Asami's life: love.

All of her life, Asami had dreamed about being in love. What would that feel like? What would it be like to know she had found her match and mate, the person that she needed and who needed her? And now she had found him in Mako. He was all coolness and control, with that undercurrent of passion – of fire – running beneath it all, manifesting in that sweet awkward earnestness that Asami found adorable. Asami delighted in showing him her world and hearing all the stories about his past, from his earliest memories to his exploits as a Pro-Bender.

To trust him and know she was trusted, to tell Mako every last thing on her mind, to know that they were thinking of each other all the time, to take care of him in little ways – Asami loved every minute of it, maybe more than she loved Mako himself.

At times she grew careless – showering him with luxurious gifts, without considering that such generosity might hurt his pride. The gifts that he liked best, though, were the simple things. Asami would unroll a fresh piece of parchment and do a quick ink painting of Mako, capturing his expression at that moment, and Mako would praise it wholeheartedly. That was when she knew that he cherished her, Asami, not the industrial heiress or the stylish socialite. When she went to bed, she had much happier things to dream about than tragic endings.

000

Asami knew that her father liked to have two meetings to get a hold of a person. She arranged things so that Hiroshi met Mako first, at a nice dinner with Asami presiding. Clearly impressed, Hiroshi offered his sponsorship to the Fire Ferrets. After the team's victory over the Boar-Q-Pines, he invited the entire team out to dinner. Three days later, Hiroshi paused his busy schedule, and Asami her lessons, in order to sit in on a Fire Ferret practice and watch the team work - with a fine picnic for lunch, of course.

In their Satomobile, on the way back to the factory, Asami beamed. Now her father had met Bolin and Korra twice, and Mako three times. Asami had revised her first opinion of Korra. She was short-tempered, but quick to laugh and completely sincere. They could be friends, easily, Asami decided.

As her father shifted their vehicle onto the highway, Asami ventured to ask, "So, Dad… you've had your two meetings. What do you think of the team?"

"Bolin is the salt of the earth," Hiroshi said at once. "None too bright, but that's normal for an earthbender. He's friendly, though. You need that kind of glue to hold a team together."

Asami blinked, and prepared to offer a list of instances when Bolin had been quite bright enough, but her father wasn't done talking.

"Mako has got drive, I'll say that for him. He has good manners to when talking to me, but seeing him in action leading the team is… interesting."

Asami was going to ask interesting how, but waited. Next, Dad would mention…

"I must say, the real disappointment is Korra."

"Disappointment?"

"Oh, as a Pro-Bender she's fine. But she completely lacks foresight and patience. I had hoped for much better, from the Avatar herself. Some people, Asami, are natural-born leaders. Katara of the South is an example. Even as a young girl, she was a force to inspire."

"So, what are you building up to?"

"I'm saying that we need an Avatar today, who can rise to our challenges, today. Korra is not that leader."

"Some leaders aren't… naturally-born," Asami interrupted. "Like Sokka."

"Good girl! You've picked up something from those biographies after all." Hiroshi beamed.

"But, Dad, what does it matter if Korra's not a leader right now?"

His smile faded. "Someone growing into leadership is fine, if the world can wait for them. But Republic City is at a crisis point. I'd hoped for someone who could really listen to the Equalists, understand their grievances and work from the ground up. But, having taken the opportunity to observe Avatar Korra, I found an entitled, shortsighted girl who'd rather show off in an arena than listen to a new point of view. I'd rather not trust our city's future in her. Do you understand?"

Asami fell back, shocked into silence. Sure, her father was only holding Korra up to a high standard, like he held Asami. But something in his condemnation of her rankled. He'd dismissed her so thoroughly. That was the word. Her, Bolin, and even Mako. In what he said about Mako, there was always a lingering, unsaid idea that Asami could and should do much better.

Well, that part Asami had taken for granted. That was what Dads were for.

But it was like the little ripples that indicate a change in the current. Asami started to notice, more and more, the way her father was changing.

He'd always subscribed to various magazines, to keep up with the political tides. But now she found pamphlets scattered on the parlor table. They spoke of a "Dawn of Equality!" and "An Equal Footing At Last!", peppered with far too many exclamation points.

Asami started to grow nervous when she accompanied her dad to parties or fundraisers. She would find her father in conversation with known unorthodox thinkers. At one point she heard him speak about Councilman Tarrlok, saying "He's a waterbender. He couldn't give you a straight answer if you put him in a straitjacket."

The men and women around Sato had laughed. Asami had blanched to think of Korra or Mako overhearing. She took her father's arm and said, sweetly but clearly, "But Dad, you could say that about every politician, couldn't you?"

More laughter, and Hiroshi smiled at his daughter's joke. But things did not improve.

Hiroshi Sato began to transform into someone Asami didn't recognize.

The worst was after the attack on the Pro-Bending arena, when Mako and Bolin came to live with the Satos. Asami loved having them around. The house had been so quiet before. But her father had taken to them badly. At first Asami thought it was just the fact that she hadn't asked permission. But later, she wasn't so sure.

After their first week there, Asami had decided it was time for an important milestone. She took Mako for a walk in the garden, and as the morning mists were rising, she showed him Yasuko's grave.

It was a beautiful moment, the silence, the light, the flowers all reaching in to hold them together. Mako cast a spark from his fingers and lit two sticks of incense, which Asami set into the well of sand. They leaned into each other, and Asami felt a bit of her future coming clear. This trust - this intimacy - was what she wanted, in life, in love. Forever and forever and forever.

And when she told her father, he grew angry.

"You showed him your mother's grave?" he asked, standing up from behind his oak desk.

"I know it's personal, and I know it's private," Asami said, her reasons all lined up, "but I felt like I trust him enough, and the time was right, and…"

"Trust him? He's a firebender," Hiroshi said, and he packed such hatred into that word.

"What difference does that make?" Asami asked.

"To a firebender, everything and everyone is kindling. After what happened to your mother… to show a firebender her grave…"

"Because I trust Mako!" Asami cried. "This afternoon Mako and Bolin were going to take me to the Fourth Municipal Cemetary to show me where their parents are buried."

Hiroshi fell silent. "Their parents?" he asked.

"Yes. Mako and Bolin's parents died in the Bolt Fever epidemic. Mako was going to show me their graves."

He ran a hand through his hair. "That was ten years ago… they were just children! Oh, monkeyfeathers." Asami laughed to hear him use his pet swearword, a relic from the days when Asami's innocent ears needed protecting. "Forgive an old man who's under a lot of stress. I get very… you know this time of year is very hard for me."

The anniversary of Yasuko's death was approaching. Asami nodded. "It's hard for me, too, you know. Of course I forgive you, Dad. But please try to be kinder to Mako and Bolin. Why would you hold the fact that they're benders against them?"

He shook his head instead of answering. "I should have been kinder to your friends. Go out and have a nice time. I need to get to work."

000

One night, she went to bed late, after checking on her Satomobile and equipment. Korra would be visiting tomorrow, and Asami was extending an olive branch, so to speak. Perhaps racing at fifty miles per hour around a racetrack was not other girls' idea of an "olive branch," but Asami had an idea that Korra would like it. And she wanted to get along with Korra, she really did. It wasn't Korra's fault that Asami had this lingering, odd feeling. Like resentment.

She stopped by Mako and Bolin's room on the way to her own. "Goodnight, boys."

"Goodnight!" called Bolin, already sinking into his featherbed.

Asami caught Mako's eye, and they exchanged a look – and an air-kiss – that stayed with Asami as she crossed the wing to her father's room.

"Goodnight, Dad," she called at his door. "I love you."

She could hear his pencil flying over thin graph paper. "I love you too, darling," he replied.

In her own room, it took a while for Asami to fall asleep. She couldn't help worrying about seeing Korra the next day. She kept picturing the two of them getting into a fight. There was just something off between them, and Asami didn't know what it was.

She finally slept, and dreamed.

She was standing in a hall, with a cold hearth before her. The walls were stone that changed to panels of ice that met over her head, in great smooth panes. Asami ran her hands over the stone.

"Soon there'll be pelts on every wall," said a voice behind her. She turned to look, and there was that man, that Water Tribe man who was like Korra. "I'll hunt all autumn if I have to. But for now, a little warmth…"

He knelt before the fireplace and, with an enviable grace, bent fire into it.

'The Avatar,' Asami realized. 'I'm standing before the Avatar.'

He stood up, looking around, and Asami realized that he had built this house himself – bent stone from deep below the glaciers, curved ice into windows and a roof. This entire house had been built by bending. Realizing that made Asami feel helpless, powerless. His will surrounded her on every side.

"We won't live here all the time, of course," the man added. "You'll travel the world with me, helping me bring balance. You'll love flight – there's nothing like it!"

Asami quailed. Flight, power, responsibility, and bending: he had the world at his fingers. And who was she? She looked down. She glimpsed a blue necklace and grey furs. What did she have to give?

She must have asked that out loud, because in a minute the Avatar had crossed the room and cupped her face in his hands. His voice was almost gentle as he said, "Heart of my heart, don't measure yourself against me. Just think of our home, and the life we'll share. I bent the shape of it –" he gave a little shrug, "—but only you can give it its soul."

He bent down to kiss her—

—Asami awoke with a thrill. She opened her eyes to darkness, and remembered where she was. Twisting and searching, she lit her bedside lamp and pulled out a blue notebook – her dream journal. She began to write the dream down, every last detail, in shaky, next-to-illegible handwriting. And only when she finished and thought about it did she realize that the man had been Avatar Kuruk.

000

The next day, Asami was glad to be away from that house of ice and stone. Her own home was all she wanted. The flowers in the garden had never been so vibrant, the sunlight had never been so clear. Mako and Bolin were happy to have Korra around, and their team was complete.

Then things fell apart.

The next day, Korra had the nerve to walk up to Asami and say, "I think your father might be involved with the Equalists."

I don't believe this!" Asami cried, angry at once. She hurried up the stairs, to find her father and get the truth. Because it couldn't be true…

But as Mako came up beside Asami, taking the stairs three at a time, she started to feel afraid.

"Don't mind what Korra says," Mako told her. "She's such a hothead, always saying the first thing that comes to mind. I don't know how she roped Tenzin and Lin into it, but…"

Asami was barely listening. She could only remember the things her father had been saying lately. The observations, judgments, and jokes about benders. But it couldn't be true. It couldn't be.

Asami clung to the banister as she reached the second floor. Anger rose to prominence again. How dare Avatar Korra say that? How dare she come into their home and slander Asami's father? After Asami had treated her like a friend? How dare she?

Lin and Tenzin barged into Hiroshi's study, and Asami would have fought them off with her bare hands. But that wasn't necessary. Hiroshi was confused, but he explained himself with an air of perfect calm. Of course it had been a misunderstanding. Asami felt secure again. There was nothing her father couldn't repair.

Asami watched as the cops inspected every inch of the factory and warehouses. She glared at Korra, hoping that the Avatar realized how many hours of labor her little whim had cost Future Industries. Didn't she know anything about capitalism?

Finally, they left, down to the last cop.

Bolin announced he was so worried he needed a swim to relax himself. Mako said he would walk around the garden. Asami went back upstairs, to talk to her father.

Hiroshi was bustling around his office, filing papers, double-checking and discarding them. "Dad?" Asami asked.

"What is it?" he snapped. But he caught himself, and shook his head. "My apologies, Asami. I'm afraid that visit rattled me more than I liked."

"Well," Asami said, "You sure handled it like a champ! I was really proud of you." She hesitated. "But, if you're busy now…"

"Never too busy for my little girl," he said. He slipped the papers into the proper filing cabinet and shut it, then turned to face her. "What is it?"

There was so much on Asami's mind. She wanted to say that he was right about Korra. There were a hundred small problems and worries she wanted to bring up to him, but, to her own surprise, she said, "I had a dream last night."

"Oh?"

"I wrote it down as soon as I woke up. I've been having strange dreams for a while now."

"But you're recording them? That's good." He nodded his head.

"Really? You don't think it's silly?"

"Not in the least. I find my own dreams make for very colorful reading later on. And I've often thought my dreams are some deeper part of me trying to send a message to the headquarters." He tapped his temple and smiled at her. "What was this dream of yours?"

Relaxed now, Asami retrieved her blue notebook and showed her father the sketch that she had made of the house, pointing out the Water Tribe details. She added, "I thought about it this morning, and I've put together a story. In the dream, I was going to be married, and my fiancé had made a house for us. I was touring the house for the first time. It was a very practical dream! I guess I'm a very practical young lady."

She glanced up, and, to her surprise, her father looked like he might cry. His eyes shone very bright and he turned away suddenly.

"Dad? What's the matter? Dad?"

"Sorry," he said, brushing at his eyes. "It's just… well. It's a bit surprising. I always thought that dreams are messages… and here you are, dreaming about getting married and building your own home."

"Dad!" Asami cried, then she laughed. "I'm not thinking about getting married. Not at all!" (In her thoughts, she swiftly reasoned that daydreams about Mako did not count.)

Hiroshi shook his head. "But you're starting to prepare. To take that next big step in your life. Oh, sweetie." He ran a hand over her hair, and smiled through his tears. "It's just that you're growing up so fast."

"Dad…" Now Asami was tearing up, too. She hugged him.

"I promise," Hiroshi said, "I'll make a better world for you."

Asami didn't say anything, but just squeezed her father a little tighter. Then she stepped back, wiped her tear away, and smiled, chin up, shoulders back. "I'll let you get back to work," she said.

"I'll be very busy in my workshop, all evening," he said. "Don't wait on me for dinner."

"Okay. I think we'll listen to some records in the den."

"Have fun," he said.

At the door, she turned back to look at him. He was already bent over his work again.

Asami went downstairs.

000

The last time Asami saw her father, he was lit up with electricity from an Equalist gauntlet. "Dad, stop!" she called.

He turned to her. A thousand thoughts crowded through Asami's mind, ten thousand. Flooded with questions and emotions, she could only manage one word.

"Why?"

"Sweetie," he began, "I wanted to keep you out of this as long as I could. But now you know the truth, please, forgive me. These people, these benders. They took away your mother, the love of my life." And didn't Asami know his pain? Hadn't she felt it, keener than even he had? All these years?

"They've ruined the world, but with Amon we can fix it and build a perfect world together. We can help people like us, everywhere!" He slipped off his glove – and Asami had never seen one so close before, but she recognized it, her father's handicraft in every joint and plug. "Join me, Asami," he said, gently, and of course, this was what they had always been, how they would always be. Father and Daughter, Sato and Sato, hand in hand to the ends of the earth.

And Asami's heart broke within her. Even with her world slipping away like the tide, even as she recalled every reason not to, she knew her choice already. She knew that this, this was not the path to balance. And so she chose.

"I love you, Dad," she said. She stepped towards him. She had to keep eye contact. Don't betray a single emotion.

She just had time to see his eyes light up with relief and joy, before she activated the glove and cast lightning and shocked her father into unconsciousness.

And just like that, it was all gone. Her future crumbled away. Her family was dead. All she had left was… what?

Balance. She had balanced the world just a bit.

Mako came up next to her and slipped his arm over her shoulders. He said nothing. And Asami tried to take comfort in him.

Police took Hiroshi Sato into custody. More officers arrived, crowding on her family's land. Asami realized that they were going to sweep this place. She could not stay here; it was a crime scene.

"Tenzin says we can go to Air Temple Island," said Mako.

Asami had never been there. She tried to think. She would need to pack, need to take enough things to make a home wherever she went. But home could not be moved. Home was too many things. Home was where her mother was buried, the gardens she'd known since babyhood, the sunlight in the kitchen, her records, her workshop, and her books. Home was where her father was.

Home was gone.

Asami turned in towards Mako. She wanted to cry – crying would have been appropriate – but she couldn't. She stood stoic.

Eventually, she went inside. She was no stranger to traveling. She knew what to pack. She handled her things without memory or feeling, barely noticing Mako helping her. Suitcases full, she, Bolin, and Mako headed outside, to climb into one police car or another.

At the police station, Asami was the first to testify, in a detached tone. She waited in the lobby as the sun rose. She tried to imagine life at Air Temple Island.

Mako sat beside her on the bench. She dozed off against his shoulder, and dreamed of a house of ice and stone.