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Hi everyone! I am soo sorry for the wait, I appreciate all of you who stuck around and didn't give up on me. I've really missed you guys and I finished my road trip yay! It was a blast, I went to Idaho, California, Utah, Nevada; I kayaked, I hiked 8.5 miles in Bryce Canyon (I got lost but the view was so spectacular it didn't even matter).

Now I've got to get ready for college. Awesome.

You all are amazing and I needed to remind you of that.

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Chapter IV: Meet and Greet

I…think I'm losing my mind.

Korra groaned and threw an arm over her eyes, shielding herself from the impending reality she'd have to face in a matter of moments. As the sun glowered mercilessly onto her prone form, she just knew that the stupid fire ball was mocking her; its rays caressed her too tauntingly to give her any sort of comfort. Evil little thing. It had been over an hour since she woke up, and still, she refused to leave the comfort of her room. Granted, it wasn't her real room, no, it looked nothing like her burgundy nest she left back home in the Fire Nation.

Home. This place is no longer my home.

With such somber thoughts, she allowed herself to stagnate, drifting in and out of the realms of consciousness and unconsciousness. If she could, she would have knocked herself out permanently a long time ago. But alas, she would not, cowardice was never her forte. Wallowing further, she begrudgingly accepted the fact that she was acting pathetic, too scared (hah, she was never scared) to move forward and too stubborn to turn back. So there she laid, roasting under the midday sun.

Korra groaned again, "Midday already?"

She mumbled incoherently, in the Fire nation, Honora would have had her head if the esteemed Avatar dared to awaken any hour past dawn. It was considered taboo, for we firebenders rise with the sun, she recited. The blue eyed Avatar, whom was lovingly adopted by the people of fire, abided to such rule as religiously as any honorable citizen…however today was a different day.

Today, I just don't care.

Yes, yes, she was being pathetic.

Cursing under her breath, she wrenched her dusty eyes open and immediately, she was once again bombarded by the strength of the stupid fire ball. Defiantly, she glared back, clenching her eyes shut as black spots began to obscure her vision.

Damned sun.

Ignoring how her bones sang for its heat, she turned her body, her back protecting any further damage on her poor retinas. Lazily, she snapped her fingers, a crackle of blue lightning eagerly erupting and licking her fingertips like an obedient polar pup. Absentmindedly, she defended her actions, so what if I'm avoiding the situation? So what if the esteemed and mighty Avatar didn't want to leave the room in fear that some crazed dragon would be breathing down her neck, blasting chunks of molten lava at her? So what if she was being melodramatic?

Situation, what situation?

Well, let's begin, you're in Republic City. You weren't in Republic City three days ago. Actually to reiterate, you haven't been in Republic city for seven years…and now you're here. Oh, and the guy who's letting you sleep under his roof hates you. Fantastic.

She sighed, I'm crazy.

After a couple of moments of brooding over her existence, the waterbender pawed for her blanket in between her torso and the crease of the underside of the bed. It wouldn't budge. Grunting in distaste, she forcefully backhanded various assortments of pillows away as she attempted to wrench the blanket from the crack. After a series of animalistic growls and whines, she successfully managed to yank the corner free, the force propelling her backwards with her foot unfortunately snagging and churning the covers and its downy goodness around her all over again. Her retaliation further awarded her with the bedspreads as her limbs and her limbs the bedspreads. The end result was a mop of hair tangled beyond repair and a cocoon she conveniently decided to surround around her upper torso.

Very elegant.

"Stupid blanket in this stupid bed and this stupid pillow, Aurghh!" Miraculously a pillow smacked itself right onto her left eyeball as she accidentally elbowed herself in the fray (that's not even possible).

"Ow!" she yelped. Nursing her throbbing eyeball, "stupid, stupid Korra."

Breathing raggedly, she shrugged out of her stupid cocoon and sat cross-legged, outraged and embarrassed over her self-inflicted wound. Cheeks flushed from exertion, she dejectedly stared down at the midnight sheets, eyes glossed over from an emotion even she couldn't comprehend.

"Stupid Korra."

Midnight blue cotton sheets embroidered with silver stars twinkled back at her, it was a downy blanket that looked plain compared to all the opulent silks within her chamber. One memory in particular stood out from the rest as she stared, transfixed by the finely dotted cloth she clutched tightly in her grasp. It was of a conversation long ago—a conversation easily forgotten and buried under new, more unimpressive ones, had it not been for Mako actually carrying out what he had promised. The memory was hazy at best, faded around the corners, but still, she remembered.

She remembered the sky, a dark and deep well, void of any light. She remembered the texture of the blades of grass, each one individually coating her skin with dew. She remembered the breeze, and she remembered the bay: an enigma as thick and as black as motor oil grease.

She could never forget the feeling

Republic City was experiencing its first ever major citywide blackout.

She remembered staring across the body of water, its liquid black as ink, and only one emotion stood visible against the depths of that evening's darkness: loneliness.

It's sickening vice suffocated her breath as she realized how alone she felt; there was no one who would find her, no one who could find her. This spot, it was secret, sacred, no one knew of it. Here in this obscurity, there was nothing to guide her, no moon, no light, no path. She reached out, her hand almost nonexistent in the darkness, it's wide, infinite mouth swallowing her limb in gluttony.

There was no one who would comfort her as despair numbed the feeling of her fingertips.

She felt so lonely.

"Hey."

And there he was, she recalled. Her eyes darted by the peripheral of her vision, surprised by the flame that greeted her instead of the all-consuming tendrils of the night. "Korra, you have no idea how relieved I am to see you. I was looking everywhere for you. Nice hiding spot."

Korra scoffed, "I wasn't hiding—"

He cut her off, unaffected and stating the curiosity of the spell Republic City was under. Always the detective. "After all my years of living here, a blackout was the last thing I expected from this city. Republic City always seemed so…sturdy." He chuckled, "I guess that's a good thing right? I mean—"

He talked…a lot, Korra realized, once she broke down the barriers of mistrust and had him finally acknowledge her as someone worthy of his time.

"—I would've never been able to find you without this," he held the flame closer towards her face as he plopped down next to her. "It's a good thing I'm a firebender."

That was a really stupid comment, she inwardly chuckled. Why is he rambling? He seems to be in a really good mood today, her mood lightened as she spied his soft smile. Only later would she realize why.

His mood grew somber, "we were worried about you."

The waterbender didn't say anything for a while. Instead, she fixated her thoughts on the clouds obscuring her vision, "the stars aren't out."

Mako, who languidly watched the ripples of the sea dim and fade away, looked up and found her statement to be true.

He said nothing, patiently waiting.

"I wish the stars were always out." Absently, she played with the flame Mako conjured, cooling her fingers whenever the heat came to be too much for her to handle, "I feel…safer when there's a little light in the sky. Makes things a little less lonely." She went on wistfully, still toying with Mako's fire.

Mako observed her intently, admiring how the hues of ochres and alizarins danced against one another, then melted seamlessly against her visage in perfect harmony. He was struck stupid at its charm, the demure masterpiece only artists could dream of replicating. Abruptly, the flame went out, his concentration nonexistent at the time. She was lonely, it dawned on him then. She relied on the heavens to ease the ache.

Startled by the sudden death of the flame, Korra frantically searched for the trace of warmth she touched only moments before, having been soothed by its heat. She felt so cold all of a sudden. Instead of the warmth of its steady glow, a calloused palm grasped her own and a different kind of warmth spread throughout her soul.

Mako held her hand and never let go.

"Don't trust your faith in them," he nudged his chin up towards the heavens, "trust your faith in me."

He'd never forget all those times he prayed to whoever was listening, begging them for pity, for respite. As a child, he could never understand why those gods or spirits or entities or whatever the hell they were, gave him this burden, gave them this hell. He never understood why. No matter how many times he left offerings in temples, the gods still managed to find twisted pleasure in mocking his fate and toying with his life. He gritted his teeth in frustration for the boy he was: those offerings could have been Bolin's meal or a trinket to be sold in the markets, why waste it on the insatiable greed of the gods? That corrupted hope shit people spouted about, he didn't want nothing from their slick words and promises.

He held unto her hand tighter, afraid she could hear the tainted thoughts running through his mind, "They may never be there for you, but I sure as hell will."

Korra stared into his umber eyes, the softness in her irises reflected unto his, reserved only for his privy.

Mako smirked lifting a jagged eyebrow, "You want the heavens so badly?"

She pretended to contemplate then spoke, "Nah, just the stars."

"Just the stars," he murmured lost in thought. Suddenly, the fairytale Korra told the children during visits in the Southern Water Tribe came to mind. "That's easy, I'll just hoist a net up and gather them for you." His lips struggled to keep from outright grinning, that line in the story was so cheesy.

Korra blinked, Water Tribe lore. Mouth parting, she recalled how she recited the story to the airbender kids whenever Ikki and Jinora begged long enough and hard enough. It was their favorite myth, it was romantic, they gushed.

A poor fisherman in love with the princess of his tribe. In hopes to gain the approval of the chief, every night, he would throw his net towards the twilight, hoping to capture the evening gems that had evaded him so, for he knew the love between him and the princess was as pure and as bright as the stars above. Every night, he would fail, and every time, the goddess of the sky watched over and took pity on the poor fisherman. One evening, not unlike the one Korra and Mako were enveloped in that night when the lights died out, the sky goddess decided to aid the young and passionate fisherman. Under the cover of darkness, when the clouds obscured the stars, the goddess replaced the fisherman's strength with her own infinite power.

It was that night that the fisherman caught the stars between his net. He was a kind man though, and only kept one evening star, freeing the rest for the comfort and joy of others. He carved that star into a betrothal necklace and swept the princess off her feet. They lived prosperous lives until the end of time.

Korra remembered the tale all too vividly.

"Shut up Mako," she blushed a splotching pink. He didn't understand the severity of his words.

A week later, he presented her with a plain brown paper bag with a meticulously tied ribbon to top off the ensemble. Korra's thoughts ran rampant attempting to imagine what could be hidden inside the "wrapper," her search coming up blank.

"So you'll never be lonely," he whispered.

Curiously, she undid the ribbon and opened the package, eyes wide with discovery. He fulfilled his promise. In her hand was the blanket she now clutched with tight hands, a gift from so many years ago: midnight dyed cotton embroidered with stars almost as real as the ones in the sky.

"Nice catch," she jested, tears threatening to tumble from her crystalline blue eyes.

Then he introduced her room, a room in the Sato mansion so she could stay as long as she pleased as a guest in their home. Their home? She remembered asking silently. Their home.

That was the day Mako moved into the Sato mansion.

Stop thinking.

How could he say that after he was leaving me?

She couldn't get angry, she had no right. After all, she left him in the very end.

Stop thinking.

Slowly, the poison retracted its claws from her thoughts.

Finally.

Sighing, Korra willed her memories to vanish, thinking it best to finally get up and get moving.

"So you'll never be lonely," she promised.

She needed to see him.

Korra strolled through the hallways in a leisurely fashion, pausing every other minute to capture the fine detail of a vase or a statue, and after a lengthy moment, she'd continue on her journey until she found another trinket as fascinating as the one before. The opulence rivaled the palace of the Fire Nation, with its intricate details and memories hidden underneath the damask and the gloss of it all. But, this house seemed colder, more imposing. There were no paintings, they were veiled by heavy cloths of canvas. There was no one who greeted her, she didn't come across a single soul. Even the servants seemed to vanish through the corridors as quickly as apparitions whenever she turned the corner.

The only sound that echoed throughout the walls was the quiet padding of her bare feet against marble, the eerie silence was…unsettling.

She allowed herself to become lost in the maze, her admiring eye wandering away from the initial goal of just going straight to the hotheaded firebender.

In the sea of vermillion, a stark white door caught her eye.

Baby Asami.

She was a sweet kid. Her attachment towards her papa made her even more endearing.

How much more if it were her mother? Korra eyes softened, downtrodden, she would have been her mother's daughter.

Her heart wept; there was a child motherless on the other side of that door. She was not allowed a soft hand of comfort, nor was she allowed her favorite broth whenever another kid teased her. She was never to pay ode to a lullaby passed down from a grandmother she would never know. There would be no kiss on her boo boo whenever she fell and scraped her knee. She would never be privy to the wise words of advice regarding romance nor the knowledge of how to be a woman.

Now all the child had was a lonesome man in a haunted house.

Stop it, Korra chided, all the child needs is Mako, he's the perfect father. She nodded resolutely, and as long as I can help it, she'll have a jaded Avatar as well. Korra began to turn away from the white door before pausing and staring longingly. But still…

Almost unconsciously, she found herself turning the knob to Asami's nursery and peering in.

The room was tastefully done. Last night, she paid no mind to the furniture or the color scheme, but the cold and aloof nature of the mansion seemed to evaporate within this warm and loving atmosphere. Pictures and paintings of the deceased Asami Sato, sometimes with Mako littered the walls of the nursery. By the cradle lay a lone picture of Asami and Mako together on their wedding day, their bright futures ahead, so glowing and happy.

Ever so slowly, as if scared the memory might vanish, Korra delicately traced the outlines of the image: the gentle slope of Asami's chin, Mako's smile. Silently, she engraved the moment onto her heart.

"So blissfully happy, so painfully hopeful."

I wish I had been there.

She allowed herself to reminisce. But only for a moment.

Breathy sighs to Korra's left reminded the woman that she wasn't the only one in the room. Peering into the crib, Korra was greeted by a fat round peach wrapped in baby pink blankets, wriggling in slight distress. Star struck, all the naïve woman could do was stare. She didn't get a good look at her before, and sure she'd seen many babies before, but this one was by far…the strangest. A combination of Asami and Mako was infused into this baby, like some sort of tropical smoothie blend or some kind of exotic iguana species from Ember Island. Hmm, it seems as if she only managed to acquire Mako's snores, Korra snickered silently; everything else is Asami through and through, thank the spirits.

Korra observed without interruption.

…She's kinda cute.

Unfortunately, as if Asami sensed an unknown entity within her lair, the baby decided now was the time to grace the world with her presence.

I promise you, as well as your father, you will always have me. You will never be alone my dear.

Jade green eyes fluttered open.

Stunned at the sudden shift of events, both stared at one another in rapt attention, unblinking and curious to the new development of the universe. Asami scrunched her button nose, who the hell are you?

As if sensing Asami's inquiry (demand), Korra bowed apologetically before coyly smiling.

Why did I just bow to a mere child?

Asami didn't like this, this new intruder, she was strange looking and her penetrating blue eyes unnerved her quite so.

Korra cocked her head to the side, you know, she really does resemble her mother. She chuckled, even her glare seems accurate.

As Korra chuckled, Asami became increasingly frustrated at the strange alien and decided to take measures in her own hands: crying would get daddy's attention indubitably.

So the little thing hunkered down and sang her symphony for the hallways to echo. Her little lungs packed a mean punch.

The strange alien's going to die when daddy finds out.

The purple faced wriggling worm bawled her eyes out as Korra backtracked frantically attempting to play responsible and knowledgeable adult as she assessed the situation.

Her eyes flitted around the room.

What did I do?

No no, stop it. What do I do?

Oh my gosh, I pissed her off.

Yeah she did.

"Ssh, ssshhhh," she pleaded, eyeing the door as if the police would burst forth and arrest her for harassing the Sato baby. "Hey, it's going to be okay, ssshhh." Korra dared not touch her. Frantically searching the frilly room in search of something to calm the baby's ire, her thoughts wandered towards the dusty memories of calming Rohan. Her eyes lit up.

She was the Avatar, and hell, she was going to use her mighty gifts and ultimate wisdom to return balance to this realm.

Or at least Asami's room.

Let's do this.

"L-look, look here Asami!" at hearing the noises the alien emitted, little Asami turned her aristocratic nose, peering with suspicious eyes as Korra puckered her lips and scrunched her eyebrows in concentration.

Asami giggled, she looks like she's going to poop her pants.

Korra proceeded to breathe through the narrow passageway in controlled breaths, slowly forming a thin film. The child watched in rapt attention as a bubble was slowly birthed from the strange woman's mouth, forming a perfect sphere.

Something's coming from the alien's mouth!

The baby watched starry eyed, mouth hanging open with slight drool forming at the corners as she bestowed her attention towards the strange woman.

In a meticulous fashion akin to creating the folds of a swan's form in origami, Korra created ridges and scales using the thin film of the bubbles surface. With convincing details, she finished her work with a roaming tail and bulbous eyes as Asami squealed in utter fascination. She'd never seen a bubble at such a young and fragile state. Heck, she didn't even know what a fish was!

So pretty.

Suspended in midair, the gold fish swam around her crib in a lazy manner, captivating and silencing her once fussy cries into mellow coos.

It's going round and round and round all over.

Asami shrieked delightfully and clapped, gurgling that strange noise only babies manage when they become extremely satisfied with themselves and the world around them. Korra smiled slightly, content with the easy atmosphere as she lazily swirled her index finger in sweeping motions, the gold fish swimming to mimic them.

Not bad Korra, Not bad.

The door jarred open, unnoticed by both.

With blank eyes, Mako observed the bubble fish roam around the nursery, his daughter's arms outstretched attempting to capture the magic within her tiny palms. Stunned, he didn't expect this. Asami's cries persisted for what seemed like hours, and finally, when he managed to rip himself away from his duties, he finds himself mesmerized and completely trumped by none other than the woman he was sure was an illusion last night. He thought he dreamt it all in some twisted fantasy of his, his mind refusing to believe it. It convinced itself for so long that she was never coming back, yet after so many years of claiming defeat, here she was, ruining his finely constructed world as if it was the very first time all over again. And just to defy him, here she was making stupid fishy faces in front of his daughter just to indulge the child.

What is she doing?

She didn't seem like the woman from last night. Aloof, hardened.

Now—

She seems almost…content.

Korra chuckled lightly, allowing the fish slightly closer to the excited baby, giggling at the child's endearing wonder.

"What are you doing?"

Surprised, Korra lost concentration, unintentionally popping the fish above the crib and right in front of Asami's starry eyes. Both the baby and Korra widened their eyes. Delightful gurgles transformed into outraged screams, utter fury unleashing its ultimate vengeance from the power of a babe's lungs.

Korra scrunched her eyebrows, I am such a bad person.

Standing rigidly, she swallowed, "I apologize for my intrusion. Asami—erm, the baby—baby Asami seemed distressed. I was only trying to please her."

The Avatar (emphasis: Avatar) making fishy faces spoke volumes to Mako on how hard Korra was trying to make Asami happy. Yet, he still refused to believe he regretted his intrusion.

All outbursts he planned to hurl were held at bay by her honest eyes. He said nothing, gazing at the mess she created, a tinge of frustration marring his countenance as Asami's ear splitting shrieks broke him out of his musings. Sighing, he tiredly ran his hands through his well coifed hair, "I can't do this right now."

"Let me help you," Korra chimed in eagerly as he began to gently cradle Asami. Her shrieks settled down some in the presence of a familiar figure amidst this intimidating woman.

"No. You don't get it. I really can't do this right now."

As if on cue, two hollow knocks resounded against the already ajar door.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," a voice breathed. Korra's head popped up and peered over the tall firebender's shoulder, ceasing her hands from playing with baby Asami's tufts of hair. The baby allowed her.

The waterbender looked on curiously.

Pin straight black hair grazed the lean woman's hips with each sway.

What's this?

Bedroom hooded blue eyes.

Oh yes.

Full lips and cleavage, deliberated long enough and just enough to leave curiosity guessing, confirmed Korra's suspicions: the sultry voice belonged to none other than Rei Kimura. A bombshell that rivaled the widespread appeal of Asami Sato herself, it was no wonder the two made a fine (and ridiculously successful) partnership. With a curvaceous yet slender outline, Sato was all brains and mechanics while Rei Kimura was all…charm and persuasion; a pair that could lure a man's heart, and in this industry, his pockets.

All the way to the market, Korra added.

Mako cleared his throat and straightened his posture, "I am so sorry Lady Kimura." He chuckled halfheartedly, discreetly glaring at the intruder who made his daughter cry to the point of choking herself. "It seems as if Asami's found an unwanted playmate."

Korra glared back. She liked the swimming fish you douchebag, until you killed it and made her cry. She likes me!

Sounds of bells tinkling reached their ears as Kimura's laughter lightened the atmosphere, "Mako, how many times must I ask you to simply call me Rei?"

"I forget," he smiled genuinely. You sure deserve the title.

She pouted. "Lady sounds so," pausing, she ran her hand through her silken locks searching for the perfect word. Snapping her manicured fingers, "archaic."

Korra rolled her eyes internally.

"If you're going to disobey me," the Kimura heir teased, "the least you can do is call me 'Miss Kimura.' It makes a girl feel lighter," she winked.

Skewer me now with a blunt sword.

Mako lightly blushed, unaware of Korra's internal dialogue.

Man, their banter never ceased to bore him.

He hummed in amusement. "Alright Miss Kimura, you win. I—" he hesitated, gazing down upon Asami's adorably perturbed look, "I'm sorry our…business was cut short."

"Mako it's alright," she soothed. "Anyways," she waved her hand in the air flippantly, "business delegations are so…blasé." The confidence of her posture, her breezy movements, instantly relaxed the irate father.

"I'm glad somebody agrees with me," he confessed.

Rei Kimura hummed in agreement, her placid smile and sleepy eyes disarming yet seductive, "now what was that phrase again?" after a moment of licking her already glossed lips in contemplation, she spoke, "oh. That's right," smirking, "business before pleasure."

Mako widened his eyes, coughing uncomfortably.

Mischievous eyes danced on his, "but we're done with business aren't we?"

Mako nodded.

Nodding as well, the vixen sauntered towards the frozen figure, "I supposed the next step is…"

Mako gulped.

"…Brunch?" the woman smirked internally as she watched the adult male stutter and nod once more, mute.

"It's a date then," she whispered, noting his sharp intake of breath.

"I would prefer to call it a meeting," he replied weakly. He wasn't exactly comfortable with the vernacular of "date." That would imply romance…and intimacy. With a woman. A woman who wasn't Asami. He wasn't ready. Not yet. Perhaps, not ever.

Rei Kimura frowned, only then did she spot the other woman in the room. Remaining silent the entire duration of their conversation (or should it be called flirtatious advances?), Korra's cold and calculating eyes caught every flicker and every hidden connotation of the charged banter with ease, visage devoid of emotion.

Who's this? The Sato partner sneered, yet her external expression was one morphed of surprise and apology. "Mako, my dear, why haven't you introduced me to your little friend?"

Korra narrowed her eyes.

Before Mako could bumble out an explanation, Korra took the reins and thrust her hand out, chin slightly jutted in silent challenge.

Come at me.

How crass, Rei Kimura sniffed in distaste. Smiling daintily, she languidly slipped her hand within the strange woman's, beginning pleasantries, "It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm—"

"Rei Kimura. I'm aware." Mako stared at both women, stunned and unsure of the situation. Korra was as rigid as a wall.

The Kimura heir pursed her lips in displeasure as the woman who had yet introduced herself gave her a solid shake and retracted her hand. "I'm sorry," the heiress began as if speaking to a child, "you've failed to introduce yourself."

Mako groaned at the escalating situation. It was obvious—they abhorred one another.

Korra prolonged their eye contact, hardly intimidated and unimpressed. Surprisingly, same could be said to Rei Kimura. Hardened resolve was quite admiring reflected from the adversary.

"Since you asked so kindly," Korra replied, a slight lilt betraying her irritation, "I'm Avatar Korra."

A pause. Rei Kimura widened her eyes only a fraction, impressing the godly entity by how schooled the latter's emotions were; they might just be on equal footing.

"Pleasure." An easy smile. Challenge accepted.

Korra's gaze rested on the latter woman's a note longer, a smirk forming on her tinted lips, before turning towards Mako. "Brunch?"

Mako gulped

They (Miss Kimura) decided against brunch.

They (Mako) agreed business delegations were more pressing than their appetite instead.

Korra smirked.

Well, what do you know.

I hope everyone liked it and I hope it was worthy enough for three weeks and six days of no updating, but hey, who's counting?

Like I said, I've missed y'all.

Rec Letter: Scar Tissue by Red Hot Chili Peppers

Note: it is physically impossible to elbow your eyeball, but my friend exclaimed how she elbowed her eyeball the other day and it was the deemed the quote of the century. Feel free to share any ridiculously stupid things you've done in your life.

Don't forget to review, don't be shy now.