Here's chapter 4. I literally JUST finished this so I don't feel like typing anymore. Just read.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Legend of Korra, blah blah blah, the usual.


Chapter 4
Korra's POV

"He knows what he said…" Asami mumbled.

I looked to her with confused eyes. "What? I don't understand…" my words trailed off a bit.

"I said 'He knows what he said'!" She raised her voice.

"About calling our homes?" I asked in a soft tone compliant to her raised one.

"No! About calling our parents, Korra!" She snapped. "But I guess you wouldn't know, seeing as how you have both of yours while your life is perfectly fine, when my Mother is gone, and so are Mako and Bolin's are too; life down the shitter for the three of us!" She exclaimed, making me angry.

The fire in my eyes returned and I snap at her. "How DARE you assume I have both my parents!?" I shouted. "How DARE you assume my life is perfect!? Do you know how difficult it was to leave the only place you've ever known!? Do you know how hard it is to live on more than one budget!? Do you know how hard it is to have to worry over a loved one stressing herself over three part-time jobs while you have one yourself!? Do you know how hard it is to juggle between home life, a part-time job, and difficulties with academics and social situations!?" I yelled the last one out her on accident. "And do you know how tough it is to deal with the unjustified murder of your Father!?" My eyes began to water but I continued. "Has your Father been shot by a gang of psychotic right-winged nut-jobs who are much too passionate about the morals of the South!?" A tear rolled down my cheek. "I bet you don't know that he wasn't buried properly! He was cremated and I don't even get the tiniest bit of his ashes because my Mother and I had to escape from the South!" The tears kept on coming. "I didn't even get to say good bye, or any word for that matter! It's like a part of him was ripped from my soul when they shot him!" I finished, letting her stare at me with those sorrowful jade eyes. But they weren't gonna work on me this time.

"Korra…" Asami began. "I'm so sorry, I- I shouldn't have just assumed…"

"Well, you did. And now the damage is done." I said quietly with anger.

"We can talk about this later, guys." Bolin piped up. "We're already late for English Class."

"Yeah- Come on, Mako." I responded then grabbed Mako by the wrist and pulled him out the door; Bolin and Asami lagging slowly behind us.

"Ah, come in." The teacher said, gesturing for us to hurry up. "You four are late."

We picked up our pace then chose seats that were all near each other. Asami and Bolin Sitting behind Mako and I.

I truly wanted to forgive Asami for her assumption about the presence of both my parents. And I wanted to apologize for snapping at her, which was probably my ADD's fault. I become irate at the utmost trivial and substantial of circumstances. It's not fair.

"Alright, we already made groups." The teacher, Mrs. Oolong, directs to us four. "Each group will talk amongst themselves about what book we should read." She pointed to us four. "You guys will be a group. Alright: Begin!" Mrs. Oolong exclaimed the sat down at her desk.

As soon as she said begin, we all turned to each other and blurted out the first book that came to our minds'. "I think we should read The Freedom Writers Diary!" We said simultaneously.

"I've seen the movie and wanted to read the book." Mako said smiling broadly at the three of us.

"Yeah. Me, too." I responded. "I usually don't read, but this is a book I can really relate to. Especially with some of the characters."

"Mako keeps telling me how great the movie is, so I thought that the book would be a nice start." Bolin said, shrugging his shoulders.

"I've seen bits and pieces of the movie and wanted to read the book before I completely finish watching it." Asami jumped in.

"Well, let's tell the teacher." I said as Mako and I abruptly got up and quickly made our way over to the teacher with uncharacteristic enthusiasm.

Bolin POV
"Pssst… Asami…" I whispered to her.

"Yeah…?" She whispered back, seemingly mocking me.

"Korra looks really happy." I began in a bit of a higher tone. "She was all shy and non-talkative when I met her, now suddenly she's extremely happy." I said skeptically. "What's up with her?"

"Yeah, I've noticed to." She said in a realizing manner. "She's acting kind of like Mako."

"Yeah, it's like she caught his ADD…" I joked then Asami swung her arm hard into my chest with a comprehending look on her features. "Oww." I quietly exclaimed. "What was that for?" I whispered as not to attract attention.

"Maybe Korra has ADD…" She said quietly, making my eyes go wide.

"That would explain her sudden energy." I said as I rubbed my aching chest. "But that doesn't explain why she's so anti-social." I pointed out, making her expression drop.

"I guess you're right…" She sighed. "But put a pin in that ADD idea." She whispered. "It's still a possibility." She finished before Korra and Mako came back.

Korra POV
"Hey, guys." I greeted as Mako and I sat back down. "Since we were the first group to go to Mrs. Oolong with a book idea," I continued with a big, toothy smile then clasped my hands together for affect, "we're reading The Freedom Writers Diary." I concluded with the same smile on my face, also copied onto Mako's.

"Alright, class." Mrs. Oolong began, capturing everyone's attention. "Korra and Mako came to me with an idea to read a very interesting and remarkable piece of literature that I think is perfect for this class, as well as relatable." She said.

Wait! Did she just say 'relatable?' I thought then twisted my torso in my seat to face the rest of the class, who were listening intently to Mr. Oolong.

Everyone looked… Well… Poor. Some girls were wearing old, beat-up flannel shirts that were too big for them, baggy sweats or jeans, and dirty sneakers; other girls wearing large t-shirts half tucked in to hole-ridden pants -bought at the Salvation- where the fabric at the ankles is ruined and tucked into hand-me-down sneakers. All their hair was the same: Brushed to the best of their ability, and somewhat greasy looking because shampoo is a rare resource. Accessories stuck into some of the girls' hair to keep attention away from the greasiness; 'like I do with my hair' I thought as I run fingers through my bangs.

The guys' wear large t-shirts, the cleanest pair of sweats or jeans they could find -yet holes are noticeable in them-, and the nicest pair of basketball sneakers they have -but still beat-up and dirty-. Their hair is gelled and combed in attempt to make it look less greasy, which worked a little.

Practically everyone's faces are dirty. I touch my face and wipe off some grime; suddenly feeling self-conscious, I turn to Asami, whose skin is flawless. I turn to Bolin, whose complexion is clean. I turn to Mako, whose appearance looks like one of a worker. His hands are calloused; a couple scratches lay at his hair and jaw line. He stares at Mrs. Oolong, listening intently, his expression looking interested. He has a mentality similar to mine: the mind of a twelve year old.

"So that is your homework." Mrs. Oolong said, the word 'homework' snapping me out of my thoughts. "We have five minutes left, so pack up and talk amongst yourselves I suppose." She concluded then sat down at her desk.

I turned to Mako. "What did she say we have for homework?" I asked him, confused.

He put his folder in his bag then turned to me. "Oh, she said we have…" He opened his agenda, humming as he stared at it. "Ah! We have to get The Freedom Writers' Diary for class by Friday, and we also have to type up a one page essay of our home-life." He said then looked up to me.

'Shit! I don't have a computer!' I thought. "Oh…" I said, successfully hiding my unhappy tone and expression. "Well, did she say it can be handwritten?" I asked, desperately hoping he says 'yes.'

"She didn't say." He responded. "But you can ask her." He suggested, causing my social anxiety to come into play.

"Can, uh- could you come with me?" I asked apprehensively.

"Of course." He said quickly, like he understood my reluctance to go alone. "Come on." He stood up then walked over to Mrs. Oolong's desk, me following suit.

We approached her desk, and I stood behind Mako so Mrs. Oolong doesn't know that I'm the one who wants -who needs- to handwrite the essay. But there's another thing I want to ask her that's just come to mind. But I'll ask when Mako's finished asking my first question; a personal home-life question.

She tore her eyes from the computer then looked to Mako. "Yes? What do you two need?" She asked.

When Mako saw I wasn't going to answer anytime soon, he spoke for me. Surprisingly enough, he didn't include the phrase 'Korra would like to know', which was a relief. Instead, he replaced it with the expression 'I was wondering.'

"I was wondering," he began, "if the essay could possibly be handwritten." He stated.

"Mako, you have a computer." She began. "And you always type your papers."

"I know." He retorted. "I was just thinking of working on my penmanship." He lied. Very well, might I add.

"Well… Just this once, alright?" She said. "I'll bend the rules just for you." She winked at him.

"Thank you very much." He thanked as she turned back to me. "I got you this one time. Next time you can borrow my old laptop, alright?" I nodded and smiled at him. He returned the smile then sat back down at his seat.

I looked at the clock. I had two minutes left. I approached her desk and she once again tore her eyes away from the computer. "Can I help you, Korra?" She asked, turning in her swivel chair to face me.

"Yes." I said quietly then leaned in closer so she can hear me. "I assume you've read my record."

She nodded her head then seemed to listen more intently, her curiosity peaking. "Yes, what about it?"

"You know I have ADD and social anxiety, right?" I asked quietly.

"Oh, yes of course." She then realized, catching on to my whispered questions. "What about it, dear?"

"Well… I just wanted to let you know that although English is my strong point, it's very difficult to get things done because I have a lot going on at home." I began. "So if I start to fall off due to my 'handicaps'," I continued using air quotes, "I need someone to motivate me to get back on top of things. Whether I'm distracted or daydreaming in class, I need to have you nudge me or call my name and ask me a question I can answer…" I finished.

"I've read great things about you in your record, so let me assure you that I will help you in any way I can possible." She said with a soft look in her brown eyes.

"Also," I continued, "If I'm having problems with home-life, I need a bit of a break so I can help out my mother." I stated, but it was a question in my mind.

Mrs. Oolong nodded her head. "Of course, dear." She said then the bell rang.

"Thank you." I said to her, getting a nod and smile of genuine understanding in response. I returned the smile before I grabbed my bag, walked out the door then up the stairs to the third floor to last period: Social Studies.

Since my locker was literally next to room 31, where social studies is taught in, I put my books -which may or may not have been half paid for when I got them- in the decent sized, metal cupboard then grabbed my social studies book from it before entering room 31: Social Studies.

I saw an empty seat next to Mako, who I assume saved it for me since his bag was in the seat protecting it.

I approached the desk next to him and he placed his bag next to his desk so I can sit down. "Thanks for saving me a seat." I said, acknowledging his kindness. "You're so sweet." 'Whoa! Where did THAT come from!?' I thought as I felt the heat rise to my cheeks.

"No problem." He said with a slight chuckle as he turned his head to the side, trying to hide a blush rise to his cheeks, which I pretended I didn't see.

"Hey! Where's Mr. Garry!?" A female student pointed out, causing everyone to agree with her question.

"Mr. Garry was fired!" Came a boisterous and animated voice that just walked through the door of room 32 from next door into room 31.

The voice belonged to a man in his early thirties. He wore a flashy dark blue blazer with white fur trim on the collar and wrists -a puffy, light blue tie tucked into his blue vest- a matching pair of pleated, dark blue pants that are tucked into white, calve-high boots with black toes and heels. His hair was dark brown, slicked back casually as opposed to formally, and wavy in some places. He has a thick, dark brown pencil mustache that suits his flashy nature.

But the part that caught my attention was his dark, Water Tribe skin-tone. His style didn't strike me as Northern or Southern, but more modern 'Republic City style'.

"My name is Varrick Amaguq- PLEASE call me Varrick! Not Mr. Amaguq, not Mr. A! Not Mr. Varrick, or Mr. V! Just Varrick!" He exclaimed. "Do I make myself clear!?" He directed toward the entire class of about 22 students.

"Yes Varrick." We all said in unison.

"GREAT!" He yelled in joy. "Does anyone have any questions!?"

"Whose that lady standing next to you?" A male asked in confusion.

"This is Zhu Li." He gestured toward a young woman wearing a blue business suit with a skirt, black high-heels, and circular, gold-rimmed glasses; a look of pure indifference plastered on her face. "She's my assistant."

"You bring your assistant with you to your job?" The same male student asked with more confusion written on his features.

"Why not!?" Varrick exclaimed then stood up straight, putting on a serious expression. "Zhu Li, fetch me some tea!" He commanded.

"Yes, Sir." Zhu Li responded as she bowed her head then walked into room 32, coming out a minute later with a fancy mug of what smelled like green tea with ginseng, lemon and honey.

Varrick took a sip of it then let out a content sigh. "Ah! Delicious! Now let's get on with the name learning and such!" He walked over to a projector at the back of the room that was facing toward the smart board fixed onto the whiteboard, and stared at it. "Zhu Li!" He called. "Do the thing!" He twirled his finger as he pointed at the projector, not knowing how to work it.

His assistant came over in an instant then simply pressed the power button and focused the lens.

"Alright!" Varrick began as he gestured toward the smart board, which had a series of bullet points typed from a computer on it. "You will tell me your first and last name, your favorite activity, why you like to DO that activity, your favorite TV show, favorite subject, LEAST favorite subject, your nationality, and one interesting fact about yourself!" He yelled with passion. "And YES! I KNOW I didn't list them in an order that makes much sense, so just answer the questions." He said to make himself clear. "And DON'T answer the question with another question!" He quickly added then pointed to Asami. "YOU! Go first!"

Asami looked up from her desk then looked at him quizzically. "Me?" She pointed to her chest with her thumb.

Varrick let out an annoyed sigh. "I thought I said not to answer a question with another question!" He said as he walked closer to her.

"You didn't ask me a question, you stated a command." She countered.

"Either way I pointed to you!" He argued back, getting closer.

"I wasn't looking at you. Though if I was, I still wouldn't understand since you speak in run-on sentences." She disputed back cunningly.

"OOOHHHH!" Yelled the class.

"Look me in the eye…" He said as he placed his forehead to hers, their noses touching. His stare was unflinching. Asami was startled at first, but narrowed her stare at him, making him smile and laugh. "I like you!" He stated. "I wanna know more about you! So tell me!" He said gesturing to the questions on the smart board.

Asami cleared her throat then began. "My name is Asami Sato, I like to race cars because my father lets me test new models for Future Industries' vehicle line, my favorite show is Counting Cars, my favorite subject is after school motor shop, my least favorite subject is Biology, my nationality is Western Earth Kingdom, and one interesting fact about myself is I'm a vehicle enthusiast." She finished.

"YOU!" He pointed to Bolin. "Go!"

"Um… My name is Bolin Yamamoto, my favorite activity is playing video games because they're fun. Uh… My favorite TV show is The Walking Dead, my favorite subject is Spanish, my least favorite subject is Biology, my nationality is Western Earth Kingdom, and one interesting fact about myself is I'm in expert in fighting Banshay, which is a Burmese art -influenced by Chinese and Indian Martial Arts- that embraces the use of a sword, spear and/or staff."

"YOU! Spikey hair!" He pointed to Mako. "Your turn!"

"My name is Mako Yamamoto, my favorite activity is fighting Banshay because my father taught it to me, my favorite TV show is American Horror Story; Coven especially. My favorite subject is English, my least favorite subject is math, my nationality is Eastern Fire Nation, and one interesting fact about myself is…" He looked down and thought for a moment. "I like to draw." He finished then looked back up, a different look on his face. One that seemed as if he was fighting back pain.

"You Next!" He pointed to me.

"My name is Korra Jin…" I began nervously, playing with my fingers and shaking my right leg. "My favorite activities are writing and Tai-Chi…" I continued, listing two since I couldn't pick between them. "I like to write because it's an outlet for me, and I like to practice Tai-Chi because… I like to practice Tai-Chi because… My father taught it to me…" I said holding back tears. "I don't have a favorite TV show because I don't watch television." I half told the truth. I really don't have a favorite show, but that's because I don't own a TV. "My favorite subject is English, my least favorite is math… My nationality is Southern Water Tribe." I said, causing Varrick to smile contently at me as he crossed his arms. "… And one interesting fact about me is that I'm an expert in six styles of martial arts…" I finished, hoping he wouldn't want me to explain what types of the arts I'm skilled in.

"WOW!" He exclaimed. "What are you skilled in!?"

'Fuck me!' I thought as I began to explain. "Tai-Chi with an incorporation of bare knuckle boxing, Hung Gar, Chu Gar Southern Praying Mantis, Northern Shaolin, Ba Gua, and bare knuckle boxing." I finished.

"That is truly amazing, Korra." He said in a surprisingly normal tone.

Twenty minutes passed. The bell rung and it was time to leave. I was about to walk out the door to go to my locker when I was called aside by Varrick.

"Korra, can I speak with you please?" He asked in that calm tone that seems so uncharacteristic of him.

I sighed out of nervousness then walked over to the desk where he was sitting. "Yes, Varrick?" I asked as he looked me in the eye, seeing my apprehension and anxiety. "I read your record during class when I assigned you all to read chapter one." He began, voice keeping it's calm nature. He stood from his swivel chair then closed and locked the door leading to the hall, and the door leading to room 32 before he sat back down, Zhu Li waiting by his side. "I understand that you have Attention Deficit Disorder and social anxiety." He continued, crossing his legs. "That explains why you were so nervous and reluctant to tell the whole class about yourself. I also saw the pain and sadness in your eyes when you were talking about your father."

"What is this about…?" I asked, once again fighting back tears.

"I also read that you were bullied at your old high school in the Southern Tribe for decisions your parents made that are considered immoral and unjust in the South Pole…" He paused and sighed. "Zhu Li, could you please pull up a chair?" He asked softly as she pulled up a big chair, with a soft looking cushion on it then placed it next to Varrick. "Thank you. That'll be all."

"Yes, Sir." Zhu Li bowed then walked out the door leading to the hall, locking it behind her.

"Come on." He said, patting the cushion on the chair. "Pop a squat. I promise it won't be long. I told Zhu Li a few minutes ago to tell the bus driver to wait for you… By bribing him- But that's beside the point…" He sighed. "Look," he began as I sat down. "I lived in the South Pole for 23 years before moving here to Republic City. That means I lived by their unjust and unmerited rules and laws. I know that they're awful, and South is probably better off if it's changed from a monarchy to a democracy or republic… But I know how you feel."

"How do you know how I feel…?" I asked him, suddenly curious of his story.

"When I was sixteen, I fell in love with a girl my age named Kaede." He began, voice sounding sad. "We decided to have intercourse a year after we started dating. About two and a half weeks later I asked her to marry me in secret so the authorities wouldn't find out. But when we both discovered she was pregnant, we knew it was going to be difficult to hide it once the months move on. Once it became noticeable, she and I were forced to see a doctor to conclude whether or not a human being was growing within her. When it was verified that she was 3 months pregnant, she was dragged by the authorities, or as we rebellious Southerners like to call 'the passionate ones', to the 'abortion' clinic where they beat her and the child within her to death as the passionate ones forced me to watch." He paused and blinked back tears. "A couple weeks later, I was put on a 'fair' trial that established my punishment be exile. I was banished from the South and became a refugee for two years before settling in Republic City." He switched his sitting position, crossing his right leg over his left; ankle upon his knee. "I worked many different jobs for a year before I turned 19, and decided I would go to college and get my Masters in teaching history. Three years flew by as I barely passed all my classes. One of my teachers suggested I take an extra year of his class so I can truly earn my masters' degree along with a recommendation letter and a perfect résumé so that any high school will hire me based on my past experiences."

I counted on my fingers. "That would make you only 23." I pointed out. "You look about 30."

"Well, I ran into trouble after I finished college trying to pay rent that was much too overpriced for the run-down and filthy apartment I was living in, and paying off student loans while keeping 3 part-time jobs -selling fruit on a street stand, being a cashier at a convenience store, and shining shoes-. So when a very notable man came to me wanting his shoes shined, he claimed he saw the hard work in my features and in my speaking manner. He said he saw potential in me, so he gave me 10,000 dollars and said 'Use it wisely and use it cleverly.' So I paid off my student loans and bills then invested the rest of the money into the stock market on the man who gave me the money, soon making me rich, but not a snob. I donate money to charities and such." He paused. "That's not the point. I still wanted to teach, so after a few years in the stock market game, I came here when I turned 29, asking for a job on the last day of school. They said they have no openings, and luckily that's when Mr. Garry, the former Social Studies teacher, barged into the office drunk off his ass on hard Fire Nation liquor. They happily gave me his job, and… Here I am." He finished. "One year later, teaching."

"That is the saddest story I've ever heard." I said. "But what does this have to do with me?" I asked.

"I just want you to know that I've gone through something similar, and I'm here if you wish to speak with me." He answered calmly.

A tear escaped my eye and rolled down my cheek.

"No, no." Varrick said. "No, don't cry."

I let out a chocked sob as more tears found their way out of my eyes and onto the floor.

"Come here." He held out his arms for a hug, and I happily obliged as I launched myself forward into his arms and cried hysterically into his soft blazer.

I wrapped my arms around him and hugged tightly as he copied my motions. "I miss him so much!" I cried loudly, sniffling. "They shot him for no reason! We doing fine until the passionate ones' figured it out! I just wanna see his face one more time!"

"Shhh, I know. But it's going to be fine." He said then pulled out of the hug to look at me before he grabbed a tissue and wiped my tears away. "Here." He handed me a pair of dark tinted sunglasses, which I assume he's giving me so no one knows I was crying.

"Thanks…" I said I placed them on my head so I can still see him clearly without the black of the glasses distorting the color of my vision of him. "I appreciate that you're willing to help me." I smiled.

He smiled back at me. "I don't wanna see you go through the same grieving and moping like I did… Now get going. The bus driver can only wait so long." He joked, making me chuckle.

I pulled the sunglasses over my eyes and walked to the door, taking one look at him before leaving.

'Maybe he's my outlet' I thought as I gathered the things I need for homework from my locker then walking down the stairs, out the door, then to the bus that was waiting there for me.


Hope the new chapter was great. Fave follow and review if you liked it. do it if you didn't like.

I really have to pee, so...

-TheClaudMaster