A Cog in the Machine

by Masterdramon

Harmonic Convergence is but a year away. Korra has spent her life training with the Red Lotus, preparing for the day she will restore balance to the world. But a dawning revolution, forged in the name of equality, could spoil their plans. To learn more, Korra takes on a new name and infiltrates Future Industries...but what else awaits her in this brave new city? Eventual Korrasami.

31. Book Two, Intermission: Future

A Cog in the Machine – Book Two, Intermission: Future

Disclaimer: In case you haven't figured it out yet, I don't own The Legend of Korra. All Avatar-related characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of Viacom, Bryan Konietzko, and Michael Dante DiMartino.

[-]

She was the most beautiful woman Hiroshi Sato had ever seen in his life.

That this was the first thought that crossed his mind upon their meeting was all the more surprising, given his history. Hiroshi had scarcely even dated before, his intent always set firmly upon the dreams and ambitions he held for his career.

In his first twenty-eight years of life, he'd parlayed his once-derided idea of affordable automobiles for the common man into a multi-million-yuan corporate empire. A decade after its foundation, Future Industries was now a multinational conglomerate, producing not only a hundred commercial Satomobiles a day but also taxicabs, racecars, submarines, and airships. If it moved you from one place to another, Future Industries was likely involved in the manufacturing process.

And that hadn't left a lot of room for romance. His few abortive attempts at the art had fizzled within a week or two, as he was unable to counter accusations of caring more about his work than any given person's company – it was true, after all.

But somehow, the woman before him had managed to drive every last thought of gears and engines from his mind, simply by smiling.

"Erm…excuse me, sir?"

Belatedly, he realized that she was speaking. And that that wonderful, gorgeous smile had, while not disappearing entirely, shrunk a bit in size.

"Could you please sign for this package, sir?" she asked, in a tone that was gentle but firm. "I have a lot of other deliveries to make today, so…"

"Oh! Ahem…my apologies. Must've drifted off for a moment…" said Hiroshi, his pale face flushing with embarrassment. He took the proffered clipboard and added a hasty, unreadable signature.

"That's quite alright!" the woman declared brightly, stowing the forms away and waving goodbye. "I'm new to this route, so I appreciate your patience. I expect we'll be seeing quite a lot of each other, considering how many packages this company goes through!"

"Err, um…yes. Yes, that seems likely," he replied, his eyes turning askance as she returned to her truck.

As she buckled in and moved to restart the engine, however, he was seized by a sudden urge. "Could I have your name?" he called out, more loudly than he'd been intending.

She didn't seem to mind, however, flashing another one of those heart-melting smiles.

"Call me Yasuko," she answered, before driving off.

[-]

She hadn't been wrong in her prediction that they'd wind up seeing each other a great number of times.

While merchants who carried wares between nations and cities were of course as old as the roads themselves, courier services within a city were still a relatively novel innovation. The one Yasuko worked for, Keum Express – a division of business magnate Wonyong Keum's diverse holdings – was the industry leader in the United Republic, distributing goods to any citizen or corporation willing to pay a premium rather than pick them up themselves.

Arguably, as the head of the company, Hiroshi had better things to do than take the deliveries personally. He'd only signed for the first package because his shipping and receiving staff were shorthanded from an outbreak of pig-chickenpox, and he'd happened to be walking nearby.

But for reasons he was openly acknowledging with neither his workers nor himself, he kept making excuses to stop by the loading area whenever it was delivery time.

He found he especially looked forward to large deliveries, because it meant a longer amount of time spent engaging in small talk. One memorable occasion involved a shipment of nearly a thousand boxes of pistons, which took an entire afternoon to unload.

"You know, Mr. Sato…" she said, sweat glistening from her brow as she hauled box after box out of her truck. Somehow, it didn't actually blemish her beauty one iota. "There's no reason why you need to be helping me with this."

"Oh, nonsense. And I've told you before, call me Hiroshi. 'Mr. Sato' was my father," he responded, waving off her concerns as he joined her in the process.

Albeit, at a significantly slower rate; he'd always been more of a thinker than a laborer.

"Very well, Hiroshi," she repeated with deliberate emphasis, sticking out her tongue mischievously. "But please do be careful! Mr. Keum would have my head if you threw out your back and decided to turn around and sue him."

Hiroshi let out a hearty chuckle…without letting on that his back really was starting to ache somewhat fiercely. "No promises," he teased back.

Exchanges like this had grown to become a familiar pattern in his life, and it was hard to put into words just how much Hiroshi looked forward to them. He hadn't had very many friends, or even close acquaintances, growing up, occupied as he was in the pursuit of money to support his family. When other children in the Dragon Flats borough were playing tag or earthball, he was shining the shoes of passing merchants for copper pieces.

But he got along almost effortlessly with Yasuko's easygoing, playful nature. He found himself increasingly eager to share details of his life with her, and listen to hers in turn.

"How'd you wind up in a trade like this?" he asked her, after a few minutes of passing along boxes in silence. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Oh, you know. I needed the money, and it's a steady gig," she said. "I grew up on a farm in the southern Earth Kingdom, so I'm no stranger to physical labor. Sure, it's hardly my dream job, but it'll do in the meantime."

"And what would that be?" replied Hiroshi.

For the first time, Yasuko appeared a bit skittish. "Promise you won't laugh?" she murmured, waiting for him to nod his assent before continuing. "I always wanted…to sing. Music's my greatest passion. But it's hard to convince two people whose families have been farming for the past ten generations that it's a worthy career goal."

"That's why you came to Republic City, I'm guessing," he hummed, tapping his stubble-covered chin. "Do you mind…that is…could I hear a bit?"

The deliverywoman looked around, her lips shifting into a self-conscious frown. Upon seeing no one in the vicinity, she told him, "Maybe…just a few bars. But don't expect too much, I'm a little rusty."

She set down the box she'd been holding, took a deep breath, and then…

"Winter, spring, summer, and fall

Winter, spring, summer, and fall

Four seasons

Fooooooour looooves

Four seasons

Foooooor love…"

Despite her warnings, the melody was beautiful beyond words. Though of course he'd heard the song many times before – it was one of the most popular folk tunes across the Five Nations, and had been for centuries – there was something about Yasuko's voice that rendered it utterly…

Haunting.

Before he could stop himself, Hiroshi found his hands erupting into a spurt of applause.

Yasuko's pale skin flushed crimson. "Come on…you're embarrassing me…" she said in a small voice. "I know I've got a nice voice – no false modesty here. But that isn't enough to carry a career."

"Maybe not. But hard work and a strong ethic certainly are, and you've clearly got both," Hiroshi pointed out, his eyes on her arms; they'd already resumed their appointed task, without any prompting. "I admire you for putting practical matters first, and saving up money while you can. But at some point, you will have to take the plunge."

Her eyes quickly panned across the vast expanse of the Future Industries warehouse.

"I take it you speak from experience?" she asked wryly.

Hiroshi adopted a small grin to match hers. "Dreams are meant to be followed. No matter who stands in your way," he advised, briefly taking her hand in his.

[-]

It was just over five months later that "Yasuko and the Eel-Swans" opened for the New Moon Celebration, to a crowd of hundreds.

Hiroshi, naturally, was among them.

In the intervening months, he and Yasuko had begun to see quite a lot of each other outside of work. Ostensibly, this was because he was using his nascent business connections to help put her in touch with people capable of getting her singing career off the ground: a manager, a producer, a backing band. And he did do all those things, despite having very little idea what he was doing.

The truth, however, was that Hiroshi was glad for any excuse to be near the sweet, kind, effervescent woman. Her passion for her craft, and for life in general, was infectious, and it made him want to never leave her side.

His position all but necessitated long hours, but the rare amounts of free time he did experience were increasingly being spent in a cramped, dimly lit recording studio. Yasuko insisted on self-financing as much of her activities as possible – turning down a number of his attempts to offer backing in more than just encouraging words – and it was the only kind she could afford, at first.

But when she and the Eel-Swans started playing…

Well, it didn't matter whether they were performing for one person or a thousand. Hiroshi wasn't all that much of a music connoisseur, but these girls clearly had something special.

At her manager Mela's suggestion, Yasuko had purposefully selected an all-female backing band. Having previously gone by the moniker "After-Training Tea Time," the five younger girls blended seamlessly with Yasuko's melodic singing style. It was important, Mela insisted, that Yasuko be surrounded by other young women, so as to emphasize her "natural elegance and poise."

(Unlike Hiroshi, she'd clearly never seen Yasuko devour a full plate of smoked sea slug.)

In any event, he'd attended every show that his work schedule would allow, starting with tiny tea shops and bars, and then moving up through increasingly larger venues. He'd looked on as their reputation grew, slowly but surely, across the United Republic, aided by Mela's unconventional but undoubtedly effective talent for spreading word of mouth.

And he'd watched as Yasuko grew more and more confident as a singer, taking her already radiant voice to unparalleled new heights.

Hiroshi settled comfortably into the cushy front-row seat he'd managed to reserve, by virtue of being a "friend" of the band. He'd been looking forward to this all week.

The Eel-Swans took their positions by their instruments as the lights in the chamber dimmed. A light mist, courtesy of their roadies' waterbending, spread across the stage.

Slowly, to the uproarious cheers of the crowd, Yasuko emerged from behind the curtains.

Hiroshi felt the breath die away in his throat. For a woman who already looked like a world-class model in a unisex delivery uniform, to see her now was…

Her costume was an intricately designed number, modeled after the graceful creatures for whom her band was named. The silvery, shimmering fabric sloped around her natural curves like a second skin, allowing her jet-black hair and vivid green eyes to stand out all the more strikingly.

Without any kind of preamble, she approached the microphone, and began to sing.

"The past is a window

Through which we can spy

The present's a mirror

Reflects you and I

But the future is different

Not written in stone

And when I look at you

I know I won't spend it alone

My future, my future

A story untold

My future, my future

So bright and so bold

My future, my future

I hope that it's true

That my future, my future

It's me, and it's you

I used to be so unsure

Before you offered a hand

A future crystallized before my eyes

And I rose to stand

My future, my future

A story untold

My future, my future

So bright and so bold

My future, my future

I wish that you'd see

That my future, my future

It's you, and it's me

The world around us can be so small

If we live for the past

And if the present's all we cling to

It'll never last…

Last…

Laaaaaaaaaaast!

My future, my future

A story untold

My future, my future

So bright and so bold

My future, my future

I know that it's true

That my future, my future

It's me, and it's you…"

When the song was over, Hiroshi wasn't alone amongst the crowd in having tears in his eyes. But he doubted any of them shared his reason.

He was crying because there was no longer any doubt. Yasuko had been staring straight at him throughout the final verse.

This was a song she'd written for him.

[-]

A short while after the show had wrapped up, in a performance the United Daily News would later call "riveting" and "a worthy throwback to the pre-Sozin new wave," Hiroshi was knocking on the door to Yasuko's dressing room.

After a few seconds, she answered the summons, though she only opened the door a fraction of the way. He got just enough of a glimpse to realize he'd caught her while she was changing, and hastily averted his eyes.

"I can come back later," he said, feeling as if all the blood in his body was rushing to his head at once. "My apologies, I didn't mean to…"

"No!" she cut him off, looking surprised at her own vehemence. "Erm, that is…I could use some help, if I'm being perfectly honest. It took them almost three hours to get me into this monstrosity, and I'd sort of prefer not to take that long getting out of it."

"I…I'm not sure I'm exactly the right person to handle that. Do you, uh…want me to try and get Mela, or…?" stammered Hiroshi, but she was already pulling him into the room.

Yasuko sank into a bountifully cushioned chair with her back turned to him, displaying the carefully sculpted eel-swan beak that ran along her right shoulder blade.

"There's an absurdly complex knot somewhere inside this thing," she explained. "I've been trying for the past ten minutes, but I can't reach back far enough to undo it. Would you mind?"

Speechless, all Hiroshi could think to do was nod dimly, and move to inspect her costume.

It became clear rather quickly that he was utterly out of his depth. The shimmering cloth had been arranged in its current shape by a genuine artisan, and rather…snugly, at that.

Of course, it didn't help that his hands were shaking like mad. But there was no helping it; being this close to Yasuko's smooth, perfect skin, close enough to catch a noseful of her flowery perfume with every breath, was…

Hiroshi shook his head forcefully, trying to clear it of such thoughts. Instead, in as careful a tone as he could manage, the inventor said, "I…really enjoyed the show tonight. You've never sounded better."

Since she was facing away from him, he couldn't see her expression, but he was fairly certain he could hear her smile as she responded, "I did have a good feeling about this one. And the band was in rare form. We've been putting our all into practicing."

"And it shows," Hiroshi told her, now slipping his hand behind the knot to try and pull it from the opposite direction. As he did, his forearm inadvertently brushed against her bare neck; he was certain he didn't imagine them both shivering from the contact. "What you're able to accomplish up there, on that stage…it's incredible. There's no other way to describe it."

"Funny," murmured Yasuko, her voice taking on a tone he wasn't familiar with. "That's exactly the same way I've always felt about what you do."

Hiroshi's hands froze for a moment.

"I…honestly didn't think you'd ever given my work much thought," he stated coolly.

"Well, I won't pretend that I understand all of it. Or even half," she went on. "But what you strive for? Bringing the future to us, right here? A future that everyone can enjoy, not just a few? I don't think you realize how much that means to people."

"And…" Hiroshi started to reply, though he hesitated. He'd been so certain back in that concert hall, but now he was second-guessing himself, wondering if he'd misread the signals. Ultimately, however, he elected to take his own advice…and took the plunge.

"Is that what My Future is about?"

For a while, Yasuko was silent. His heart contracting from the stress of anticipation, Hiroshi threw himself back into fumbling with the knot.

The first bit of cloth finally managed to come loose just as Yasuko said, "Yes…and no. That song's about a lot of things. All the ways I've been feeling lately. Stuff that's just begun to come into focus, now that everything's changing."

All her words were vague, noncommittal. And yet…the meaning they seemed to convey…

"Hiroshi…I wouldn't be where I am today if it wasn't for you," she continued, her voice unsteady but firm. "If you hadn't pushed me to take those crucial first steps. If you hadn't stuck your neck out and put me in touch with Mela and the rest. If you hadn't stayed with me all those nights, when I was ready to give up and throw it all away…and tell me everything was going to be fine. All for a nobody little delivery girl you barely knew."

There was a lot packed in her last statement, and Hiroshi was at a loss as to how to respond to half of it. So he elected to focus on the last part.

"I…was a nobody too, once," he whispered. "I still am, in a sense. No matter how much wealth I amass. It doesn't change…how alone I feel, sometimes."

"Well then…I think there's something I can do about that," spoke Yasuko, in a voice that could only be described as a purr. "You managed to undo that pesky knot, yet?"

Coincidentally, that was in fact the moment that his fingers finally found purchase, and with a good tug, pulled the faux eel-swan apart.

Yasuko stepped out of the chair and turned around, allowing him to see her smile. But this wasn't the sweet, almost childlike grin she'd worn when they first met. This one was filled with half-hidden meaning – and unspoken promises.

Her turning also caused the remainder of the dress to fall away, and reveal what she was wearing underneath it.

Or rather…what she wasn't wearing.

"The future is still young," she said. "Want to try writing it together?"

The last thing Hiroshi remembered was the sensation of her hot mouth on his, their bodies melting seamlessly into one another.

[-]

Of course, the Republic City Raconteur and other assorted gossip rags initially made a big deal about the head of Future Industries and the nation's biggest up-and-coming musician becoming an item.

But by the next day, the news had fallen off the first page, and everyone had moved their attentions to the next scandal (specifically, whether the Earth Kingdom councilman, Wei Yuan, had improperly used funds from a charity he managed to purchase a hideously expensive portrait of himself).

Of course, all this meant very little to Hiroshi Sato, who was having to get used to the fact that for the first time in his life…he had a long-term girlfriend.

Thankfully, Yasuko made the transition a lot easier than it might've otherwise been, mostly by virtue of having the patience of a sage. This was one area where she had a lot more experience than he did, and he was more than happy to defer to it.

"Three ex-boyfriends, two ex-girlfriends. If you count my roommate from my university days – I love her to death, but we realized within about three days of getting together that it was a baaaaaad idea," she explained the one time he dared to ask, as they shared a cup of tea after work. "When you're just friends, the fact that someone picks their toes with their teeth is just a gross little quirk. When you're trying to look at them as a romantic partner…yeeeah, different story."

"I'll admit I find myself feeling a bit…inadequate, by comparison," he said. "Especially since I'm five years older than you. And going prematurely gray to boot!"

"It's just a little streak! I've told you, you're overreacting," she remarked, running her finger along the single line of slightly discolored hair. "Frankly, I think it makes you look distinguished."

"Yes, well…I think we'll just have to agree to disagree there," responded Hiroshi. "In any event, I'm a lot more interested in how I stack up on the list."

Yasuko's lip curled upward. "Weeeeell…my last boyfriend was a big-muscled pro-bender," she couldn't resist teasing him. "And the girl before that was a model. Runner-up for Miss United Republic that year, as a matter of fact! Oh, and her legs…"

Seeing the alarm in Hiroshi's maroon eyes, however, Yasuko quickly relented with a sultry, "Of course…none of them are who's on my mind when I'm at home. You know…alone."

Hiroshi swallowed audibly.

"Look, I know it's asking a lot – from me as well as you – but let's try not to get bogged down by a bunch of clichéd insecurities, okay?" she asked after a pause. "We've found each other, admitted our weaknesses to each other…I just want to enjoy being together. For as long as we can."

A small smile returned to his face. "I think I can give that a shot," he said.

[-]

And for the most part, that's how the next several months unfolded. Amidst a dramatic upswing in the careers of the Eel-Swans – they even managed to secure a gig playing for Fire Lord Izumi's birthday, who despite her severe reputation was a well-known music lover – and more business for Future Industries than he knew what to do with, Yasuko and Hiroshi made as much time as they could for what amounted to a shockingly ordinary courtship.

There were candlelit dinners, and carriage rides in the park, and nights out at plays and art shows. He was making a rather comfortable sum by that point, and while Yasuko preferred he not spend too much on her, he delighted in every chance to give her the treatment she so rightfully deserved.

He'd been a little worried about introducing her to his parents, given that it was completely uncharted territory, but it turned out to be for naught; his mother, in particular, instantly took to Yasuko. Perhaps a little too well – given that within about five minutes of meeting, the two women were swapping embarrassing stories about Hiroshi's sleep habits.

The converse was…a little trickier. Moving to Republic City had largely taken Yasuko and her parents off speaking terms, and none of her subsequent letters had ever received a reply. The young singer didn't seem all that broken up by the situation, though, into which Hiroshi chose not to pry.

In general, Yasuko clearly wasn't the type to dwell on the past. She was happy now, and that was what mattered. It was a character trait he somewhat envied her for.

Their only serious fight had come when, faced with a personal income that was rapidly growing beyond "pretty well off" straight into "probably on about equal financial ground with the Earth Queen," he'd decided to purchase a large estate on the outskirts of the city.

It was only logical, he felt, that Yasuko move in with him. Her cramped apartment in the Tiger Villas borough wasn't all that much better than the Dragon Flats slums he himself had been born in.

She, however, had other thoughts.

"I know it's…not much. But it's the first place I ever rented on my own," she argued. "I know it doesn't make sense, but I'm proud of it. Besides, I've already paid my lease through the next six months…"

Hiroshi waved away her concerns. "I'll buy it out, don't worry," he said. "And believe it or not, I get the first part. Spirits know, it took me ages to part with the first suit I ever bought. Even when it was quite literally falling apart at the seams."

"That's just it, though. You don't get it," replied Yasuko, glaring at him with a fierceness he'd never quite seen in those brilliant emerald eyes. "We may have started off similar, but…well, our dreams took us to different places. There's no denying that. Which is fine, I didn't get into this for the money. But now…when it looks like it might not even last much longer…"

She was telling the truth. Less than a year after their debut, the Eel-Swans found the audiences for their shows were starting to dry up. Not by enough to cause an alarm, precisely, but if the trend continued…

Well, they wouldn't be the first group whose time in the spotlight was more a brief spark than a lasting inferno, to borrow a Fire Nation idiom.

"Look, if the Eel-Swans wind up fizzling out…it'll be a shame, don't get me wrong. But I can bounce back. I always do," she went on, looking askance. "That's not what this is really about, though."

"Then what is it?" asked Hiroshi.

Yasuko let out a breathy sigh. "I just don't think you properly understand…how uncomfortable it makes me," she told him, after a brief pause. "When you throw all this money around, I mean. It's not that I'm not grateful! But…"

"You want to stand on your own two feet," he guessed, cutting her off. "And there's nothing wrong with that. I've stepped back, and kept my wallet shut whenever you've asked. But I'm not budging on this one. This is too important."

Hiroshi took a step forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, which she neither accepted nor threw off.

"This neighborhood just isn't as safe as it used to be," he said insistently. "Sure, it's not as infested as Dragon Flats, but the triads are moving in, slowly but surely. Why do you think I got out of that hole the first chance I got? Those vermin ruin everything they touch."

"I…I'm touched that you're worried," murmured Yasuko, dipping her head toward him. "But don't you realize how patronizing that sounds? It isn't your job to constantly be looking after me, buying me things, shielding me from the world…"

"I just don't want to lose you! Is that so wrong?" he shot back.

It was the first time he'd ever raised his voice to her, and they both exchanged shocked looks immediately afterward. Ultimately, he sighed himself.

"Look, you know I'm not good at…this sort of thing," he added after a pause, his eyes scrunched up tight. "But believe me…I'm not trying to step on you being your own woman. On the contrary, I respect it more than you can know. I love you more than you can know."

"I…do know. And I feel the same way," responded Yasuko, bending her neck to the side so that she could touch her cheek to the hand across her shoulder. "I just can't shake the feeling that…that…"

She exhaled deeply, her warm breath causing the hairs on the back of his hand to stand on end, before continuing, "Try to see it from my perspective. When we met, we weren't equals. But you treated me like one anyway, and that's why I fell for you. Then the Eel-Swans came around, and…well, we've never exactly been rolling around in yuans, but it felt closer, you know? Like I was finally at your level."

The singer reached forward, and balled dainty fists around the material of Hiroshi's suit.

"But now that it looks like the end could be in sight?" she said mutedly. "I'm still trying to figure out what I'd even do. Just…go back to delivering packages again? Stop working altogether? The last thing I want is to be a burden on you, Hiroshi. Or for people to look at me lounging about your fancy mansion in all manner of expensive dresses, and assume I'm just some kind of…of…"

The last words came out strangled and disdainful: "…trophy wife…"

Several possible responses jostled for attention within Hiroshi Sato's mind.

Should he tell her that, of course, he would never think of her in such disparaging terms? Assure her that the Eel-Swans still had a sizable fanbase, and that all performers had their slumps? Remind her what she'd said just a few moments prior, about always bouncing back?

But instead, the unbelievably stupid thing he wound up actually saying was, "Wait, trophy…wife…?"

Thankfully, she seemed to find him getting hung up on that particular word endearing rather than irritating. "I suppose that is jumping the cannon a little bit," she commented with a small smile.

And then, before Hiroshi could stop himself…

"Maybe it doesn't have to be."

Yasuko looked up at him, her eyes bulging. She clearly wasn't quite sure she'd heard what she thought she did – and honestly, neither was he.

Nevertheless, he kept right on going. "That would solve the problem, wouldn't it?" he asked. "It wouldn't be you accepting my charity, then. It would be me, sharing what I have with my family. As equals."

His lip quivered, and his voice became a stammer as he said, "I don't have a…you're of Earth Kingdom blood, so…um, a jade ring? I can purchase one first thing in the morning – of course, nothing too expensive if you don't want it! – but for now I…I…"

She silenced him by kissing him full on the mouth.

"I don't know if I've ever told you this, Hiroshi, but you talk too much," she declared, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. "Oh…and the answer's yes, by the way."

[-]

Knowing that it was still a sensitive issue, Hiroshi kept the wedding relatively small and intimate.

"Relatively" was a necessary qualifier because all five members of the Republic City Council, among a number of other political and economic bigwigs, all managed to finagle their way onto the guest list.

Still, that was a minor concern, compared to the way the already-radiant Yasuko looked in a wedding dress.

The actual ceremony largely passed him by in a blur. About two hundred people separately offered their congratulations; he collected a wide array of gifts that included a life-sized bronze statue of Avatar Yangchen and a dozen trained iguana-parrots; and he stuffed himself silly with far, far, far too many komodo sausages.

But in the end, they were standing before an Earth Sage from her home village – her parents had accepted their invitation, to Yasuko's great surprise, but only under the condition that he officiate – as he read out a list of vows that likely hadn't been changed since the era of the 22nd Earth King.

"And do you, Yasuko, daughter of Sadahito and Fujiwara, take this man to be your husband?" asked the wizened old codger, in a voice that promised he might keel over at any moment. "A partner, a provider, and a protector, throughout all seasons?"

"I do," she said firmly.

"And do you, Hiroshi Sato, scion of the…ahem, colonies…take this woman to be your wife?" continued the Sage. "A partner, for whom you shall provide and protect, throughout all seasons?"

Hiroshi raised an eyebrow at the bigoted and more-than-slightly sexist vows, but Yasuko just displayed an embarrassed little grin and shrugged her shoulders. The things one did to keep family peace.

"I do," he answered, matching her shrug.

"Then in the name of the Earth Queen, 53rd Sovereign of the greater Earth Kingdom, may Her glory reign until the end of time," the Sage recited, bowing his head reverentially to a portrait of Hou-Ting he'd insisted on hanging above the altar. "I now pronounce you joined, as husband and wife."

Any lingering unease from the pageantry of this ceremony melted away the instant Hiroshi looked upon Yasuko's face. In that moment, she was beaming so brightly it could melt ice.

He took her soft, radiant face in his hands, and lifted it toward his own. To the polite clapping of her parents and the raucous cheering of everybody else in the hall, they kissed.

[-]

Less than two months after the wedding, the Eel-Swans broke up.

It hadn't exactly been a surprise to any of them, but Yasuko still clearly took it as a blow. Despite her usual cheer, for the first few days she was withdrawn and inconsolable.

But that didn't last long. Soon enough, and thanks to Mela's clever maneuvering, Yasuko was able to transition toward a solo career. It was hardly as glamorous, and she wasn't playing for any sold-out stadiums any longer, but she had some mild successes; Lei Tai of Love was on everyone's tongues for weeks after she first performed it, despite getting banned in much of the Earth Kingdom for referencing the now-outlawed dueling practice.

Still, it was obvious to Hiroshi that her heart wasn't quite in it. Yasuko was a gregarious person by nature, and thrived in group settings. Without a band to play with, though her singing remained as melodious as always, there was undeniably something…missing.

"This has been my dream since I was a little girl," she said one night after a show, relaxing in their private gardens and leaning into his lap. After becoming his wife, she'd finally consented to move into his newly purchased estate. "What's wrong with me, Hiroshi? Why am I not enjoying it anymore?"

"There's a good chance this will pass. It's only been a few weeks since the Eel-Swans went their separate ways," he replied, softly stroking her jet-black hair. "I don't suppose there's any chance of reuniting…?"

"With half the band not on speaking terms with the other half? And I still haven't a clue what I did to piss off Richan…" murmured Yasuko. "No, doesn't look like it's in the tiles right now."

She let out a brief sigh. "Don't get me wrong, I'm going to keep singing. As long as they'll have me, anyway," she continued after a moment. "But I'm not naïve. Everyone in show business has a shelf life, and I'm no exception. I was the face of the Eel-Swans – if our fans dried up in less than a year, that's on me."

"Don't say things like that!" Hiroshi attempted to protest. "Perhaps it didn't work out the first time, but these things happen. Have you looked into finding another band?"

"Of course. Mela's out there exploring options right now," she answered. "But I wouldn't hold my breath. We've already had interviews with three others break down. And that last one…oof. I'm lucky I still have all four of my limbs, honestly."

Hiroshi was tempted to ask, but decided against it.

Instead, he said, "Just…tell me what I can do. Anything I can do. You know I'd lasso the moon for you, if you asked."

A small grin finally reappeared across her face. "Haven't you seen The Boy in the Iceberg? The Moon Spirit is supposed to be a pretty Water Tribe princess," she pointed out. "Which makes what you just offered awfully kinky."

Hiroshi's ears and neck turned red, and Yasuko let out a high, lilting laugh.

"Just keep being who you are. Keep being the man I fell in love with," she told him in a low voice, once her mirth died down. She pressed her face into his chest, and the heat in his body rose exponentially. "I know I can get through anything while you're here."

And before he knew it, the pair of them were entangled, kissing fiercely, like breathing was a concern they could no longer be bothered with. Yasuko's gorgeous face, and her musical voice, and her sweet, perfume-laden scent, were his entire world, overtaking each and every one of his senses until he could scarcely…

"Please don't take what I'm about to do as a comment on what we just did," she cut in, abruptly breaking the kiss.

Then she turned toward the expensive topiary he'd just had installed the previous week, and threw up her last few meals.

[-]

"You're certain about this?" asked Hiroshi, frowning.

The doctor nodded professionally. "Modern medicine's gone through more than its fair share of leaps and bounds, but frankly this is something any waterbender a thousand years ago could've told you," he said. "Your wife is pregnant, Mr. Sato."

Both of them just stared back at the older man, momentarily stunned into silence.

"Well that's certainly…news," commented Yasuko, shifting awkwardly in her hospital bed. Her tones were distant and airy, as if she wasn't yet quite sure how to react. "I guess, not entirely unexpected, but…"

Her eyebrows wiggled mischievously as she turned her head to Hiroshi and added, "Do wonder who the father is, though."

"Oh, you're hilarious, Yasuko," he replied with a weary groan. "Still, I…I don't altogether know what to make of it, myself. I'd thought about it, of course. Many times. But to have it actually be reality…"

"Well, there's no undoing what's already happened, is there?" Yasuko pointed out. "Much as my stomach kinda wishes it could right now."

She made a queasy face, though it gave way soon enough to a small but firmly set smile.

"Still, I think we just need to make the most of it," she continued, nodding toward her husband. "It'll be a big shift, don't get me wrong. Definitely no walk in the park. But you'll be there to help me through it…erm, right?"

Those last two words were spoken with the slightest bit of hesitance. It was so utterly at odds to her usual cool bravado that it almost turned adorable.

"Of course," he said quietly, taking a seat at the edge of her bed and lacing his fingers around hers. "I told you. Anything I can do for you, my dear – name it, and it's yours."

The playful air returned to the grin on her face. "Oh, trust me, sweetie," she murmured back. "I am so going to hold you to that."

[-]

The next nine months flew by in a blur.

At least, that was how it felt to Hiroshi. Given that he wasn't having to deal with any of the cramping, bloating, or near-daily vomiting, however…he was forced to admit their perspectives might not have entirely aligned.

For about the first six months, Yasuko stubbornly refused to give up her singing, even as the crowds dwindled and as his steadily rising fortune rendered her income less and less meaningful.

Not that we would've ever told her that, of course, and in any event he understood what it meant to her. As the symptoms of her pregnancy intensified, it became all the more important that she hold onto some measure of self-sufficiency.

Of course, it didn't hurt that the stress of carrying another life within her body hadn't dimmed Yasuko's talents one iota. She still took Hiroshi's breath away every time he sat in the audience, whether he was among hundreds of fellow admirers or just a few dozen.

And he was the only one who ever got to experience her "private" performances as well.

But eventually, inevitably, biology won out. The doctor's advice that loud instruments and flashing lights were a poor mix with pregnancy became stricter and stricter with each visit, until he was all but ready to call Chief Beifong on them.

Ultimately, after all was said and done, it was her producer that made the call. The liability, he told them, that Yasuko might slip and fall during a show was exceeding her routine ticket sales.

Still, even while "benched" from her chosen profession, Yasuko was hardly about to become a bedridden invalid. After some initial grumbling, she took to her enforced vacation with all the zeal and vivaciousness she applied to everything.

Cooking, needlework, Pai Sho…if Yasuko wasn't already an expert in it before getting pregnant, she sure as heck was going to be by the time she gave birth. She read just about every last book in the manor's library cover-to-cover, and entered into a chain of correspondence with Water Princess Malina that, inexplicably, wound up with them getting shipped two tons of sea prunes.

He did his best to help, of course, though he was never quite able to shake the feeling that he should be doing more. Every moment he spent away from the office was spent at Yasuko's side, fetching her favorite foods and fluffing up pillows.

Even when he decided to hire on a dedicated housemaid to look after Yasuko while he was at work, he still insisted on taking over the job himself every time he walked through the door.

It all made for a gradual shift in his worldview – from one where the pursuit of riches and scientific progress alike overrode all, to one focused wholly and completely on the wellbeing of another. Of two others, to be more precise.

That gradualness, he'd hoped, would be enough to prepare him for the moment they were invariably careening toward.

It was not.

[-]

Yasuko was in labor for eleven hours. Eleven grueling, painful, terrifying hours.

A lifetime of only knowing about this process from books and radio serials wasn't even close to experiencing it firsthand. There was no miraculous gift from the spirits on-high, mother bathed in light and smiling serenely – but instead a great deal of sweating, screaming, and all manners of blood, feces, and amniotic fluids.

It was a tremendously difficult labor, exacerbated by Yasuko's relatively thin frame and narrow hips. He stood at her side the entire time, her hand gripping his like a vise, feeling more useless than ever as the hospital room became more and more a center of frantic activity.

Ultimately, after trying and failing for hours to induce delivery the ordinary way, the doctors and waterbending healers were forced to make an incision in her abdomen, in a procedure colloquially termed a "Yangchenian section."

That turned out to be very much the right call, because as a nurse soon confirmed, the umbilical cord had managed to wrap itself around the baby's neck. A quick cutting motion with her finger caused a water-jet to sever the cord, before further movement could pull it taut.

After that, there was still a great amount of work to do in terms of extracting the baby from the womb, and sealing up the incision points in a way that posed minimal harm to Yasuko's body.

But it all became worth it in the end when, after so many hours of barely blinking that he was having difficulty telling light from dark, a swaddled bundle was placed into his waiting arms.

"She's a girl," said the doctor, and those three syllables had Hiroshi tearing up in a way he scarcely had the presence of mind to comprehend.

The hospital staff brought in a chair for him to settle into, right next to his wife. Yasuko, for her part, was barely conscious, her skin pallid and dark shadows beneath both of her eyes. Sweat caked her usually lustrous hair, matting it to her body.

Nevertheless, Hiroshi wasn't sure he'd ever seen her so gorgeous.

Her eyelids fluttered opened a fraction of an inch, and her mouth did the same. "I…wish I was strong enough…to hold her…" she murmured, her voice so hoarse it sounded like she'd just run across the entire Earth Kingdom.

"Shhh. You need to get some rest. She'll still be here when you wake up," he told her, angling the child toward her so she could get a good look, even in her fugue state. "And besides, you're the strongest person I've ever met in my life. Today was proof."

"I'll…believe that…when I can…move my arms again…" more words tumbled out of her mouth, as she slumped back further into her pillows. "Please…could you bring her…a little closer…?"

He obliged, leaning forward until mother and child were practically nose to nose.

It was hard to tell on features so young, but she seemed to be the spitting image of her mother. She'd inherited a tuft of the jet-black hair both parents shared, as well as Yasuko's deep-green eyes, though they were canted a bit more similarly to his.

Those eyes were closed in repose now, so that the only sign of life in her body was the rising and falling of her tiny, tiny chest.

"She's so…beautiful…" said Yasuko, sincere pride fighting to break through her exhaustion.

Hiroshi nodded silently, fresh tears misting up his eyes anew.

They stayed like that, the three of them, for quite some time; Hiroshi didn't keep track of how long. The minutes ticked by as they leaned against one another, utterly fatigued but unable to sleep.

Eventually, without moving from their current position, he whispered, "I understand if you want to rest properly before making a decision like this, but…the hospital staff were asking for a name."

"I…do have one…I've been thinking of…" she replied throatily. "It belonged to…my father's grandmother…"

He strained his thoughts to recall her family tree, which her stern parents had insisted he learn cold prior to the wedding. After a few moments, it came to him.

"Asami…?" Hiroshi asked softly.

They both mulled it over in their own heads for a moment. Practically speaking, a decision this momentous probably warranted many hours of reasoned discussion and debate.

But the identical smiles that spread over both their faces rendered any of that unnecessary. With simply a look between them, they knew.

"Welcome to the world, my dearest daughter," he said to the sleeping girl. "Welcome…Asami Sato."

[-]

Becoming parents was an adjustment, for the both of them.

Gone were any chances of uninterrupted sleep throughout the night. Asami didn't operate by the meticulous schedules he set for his workers, instead waking, crying, demanding milk, and/or defecating whenever she happened to feel like it.

True, he had advantages most new parents didn't – namely the disposable income to hire nannies, housekeepers, butlers, and a private chef – but there was only so much of the "job" he or Yasuko were willing to delegate.

Indeed, even though she probably could've tried jumping right back into singing, Yasuko had elected to extend her period of "leave" to cover at least the first year of Asami's life. They could easily afford it, financially speaking, and as she put it one sleepless night…

"It's all well and good to have some help around the house," she told him, holding Asami snugly against her breast as she suckled. "But I'll be damned if Asami's first word is 'mommy' and it isn't directed at me."

Even when she did go back to performing gigs, which was a little before Asami turned two, it was at a dramatically reduced schedule – just a few low-key clubs and bars here and there. And that seemed to suit her just fine.

"Yasuko and the Eel-Swans" had been a household name for that briefest of periods, but "Yasuko Sato" alone never really had. Not that she'd ever performed for the sake of fame in the first place.

It was love of the craft that'd always spurned her to the stage, and so long as she was able to balance that with her new life as a mother, she seemed satisfied enough.

For his part, Hiroshi did his best to curb his workaholic tendencies and get home at a remotely normal time. Results on that front were…mixed. In those days, demand for Satomobiles and other Future Industry tech was skyrocketing to unprecedented levels, and there never seemed to be enough hours in the day to deal with it all.

But like his wife, he didn't want to be an absentee actor in Asami's childhood. So he worked long nights part of the week, in order to free up enough time to leave early on others. He configured his home office to better enable working remotely, whenever possible.

And one day, when an important business meeting with a refinery owner from the Fire Nation happened to coincide with Asami developing a particularly nasty cough, he'd simply elected to blow off the whole thing.

Whatever sacrifices he was required to make, however, Hiroshi knew without the slightest shadow of doubt that it was worth it, whenever he saw Asami's tiny little smile.

His daughter was growing in what seemed like no time at all, from a tiny lump of near-sexless flesh into the prettiest little girl he'd ever laid eyes on. Milestones like first steps, first word, and first set of teeth passed by before he could even get his bearings.

As Asami grew from infant to toddler to child, and a defined personality began to set in, her mother's influence became more and more obvious. She was always incredibly well-mannered and conscientious for her age (except when it came to dessert, but who could really blame her?), while at the same time demonstrating the same willfulness and independent streak that'd drawn him to Yasuko in the first place.

Yet at the same time, he could also see so much of himself in the girl – chiefly, in her mind. At just four years old, she'd seen the Pai Sho board in the corner of his study and begged him to teach her how to play.

And at five, she was already skilled enough to give most adult players a run for their money.

Asami took to pastimes like reading and puzzles like a turtle-duck to water. And her favorite toys as a young girl were invariably anything she could build with, from blocks to moldable clay to construction sets.

Hiroshi remembered coming home from work one day to find the entire entrance hall taken up by an immensely elaborate structure of thousands of pieces – mish-mashed and liable to fall over any second, but still incredibly impressive for a single day's work.

He'd said as much shortly before the whole thing came crashing down upon his head.

[-]

A few days after the aforementioned "incident," the three of them gathered in their estate's gardens in order to celebrate Asami's sixth birthday.

The sole dark spot in the girl's otherwise bright childhood was that she had very few friends her own age. Unlike the Fire Nation, the United Republic lacked a public education system below university level, so everything Asami learned came from expensive private tutors. And their lavish mansion on the outskirts of the city wasn't exactly awash with neighbors.

Still, on days like this, Asami looked for all the world as if the only thing she needed to keep herself happy was to stick by her parents' side. Right now she and Yasuko were running about the bushes, playing a bending-free variant of Hide-and-Explode.

"Boom!" Asami cried out in her small, high-pitched voice, stretching her stubby fingers toward one of the azalea bushes.

Yasuko, who'd done a good-but-not-perfect job of hiding behind the flowers, dramatically mimed her chest exploding as she toppled over. Asami ran over to celebrate her victory…only to suffer vengeance in the form of a sudden tickle-attack.

"Hey! No fair!" she shouted, between shrill giggles. "I won already!"

"All is fair in love and Hide-and-Explode," said Yasuko, without letting up in the slightest. "No one ever said the winner was immune to retaliation."

"D…Daddy!" Asami suddenly switched gears, as the laughter rendered her less and less coherent. "M…Make her st…stop!"

Hiroshi paused for a moment…then, offering an indulgent smile, walked over and pulled his daughter into his arms. She beamed, while Yasuko simply rolled her eyes.

"She's becoming such a daddy's girl," declared the part-time singer. "She knows she has you wrapped around her little finger, dear."

"That…That's not true!" Hiroshi stammered, though Asami didn't help matters by flashing a smile that was a little too innocent.

"But since it's a special day, I won't give either of you too much grief," his wife added swiftly. "Ready to open presents, Asami?"

The girl's mouth became a very large "O," and she nodded vigorously.

As far as six-year-olds went, Asami received about ten times the number of birthday presents than was probably strictly advisable. Hiroshi was unable to help himself, however; what was the point of being filthy rich if you couldn't spoil your little princess once in a while?

(Okay…maybe she had a point about Asami being too much of a "daddy's girl.")

Naturally, most of them were geared toward encouraging her newfound passion for tinkering. Asami squealed with delight every time she opened another box of miniaturized bricks, gears, or pulleys, and Hiroshi could almost see the cogs turning in her head as she imagined everything she could create with these new building blocks.

Of course, he also included a children's book that used cartoonish animals to outline the basic principles of sound engineering, just to lessen the risk of any more in-home collapses.

The capstone to all this, however, was a box more than twice as long as Asami was tall. The girl had immense difficulty unwrapping it, and ultimately had to call over one of the gardeners to lend his shears for the job.

Only for the intricate packaging to finally fall away, and reveal what was unmistakably…

"A Satomobile. Hiroshi, dear, you must be joking," said Yasuko. "You know I hate to be the voice of negativity, but she's six. Not sixteen."

"Ah, but this is no ordinary Satomobile!" Hiroshi responded, in the booming, jovial voice that he only fell into when discussing a new invention. "I call it…the 'bumping car'! See that pole coming out the back end? That will anchor it to the ceiling of a specially constructed, indoor track, from which it will draw the electric power needed for motion. She won't be able to do much more than drive in a circle and 'bump' into similar cars with low-velocity, cushioned impact. And the entire circuit can be shut off remotely if anything goes wrong. So you see…perfectly safe!"

Asami, meanwhile, had been listening to this explanation with a steadily widening grin.

"Is it ready? Can I try it?" she demanded excitedly. "Oh please mommy, let me try it!"

"Ah, that's the best part," answered Hiroshi, a twinkle in his eye. "This model's only the prototype. I've had contractors secretly constructing a track for weeks, at the back of the east hallway. With three working cars."

Both father and daughter turned their heads toward Yasuko simultaneously, and after a few beats, she shook hers in dismay.

"Well, if you're sure it's safe," she said with a sigh. "But only on one condition…"

And then, like a flash, she was wearing a smile just as broad as theirs, and twice as mischievous.

"I get my first 'bump' on you, darling. Head on."

That was how the family wound up spending the remainder of Asami's sixth birthday: engaging in merciless vehicular assault upon one another, their laughter echoing loud and clear well into the night.

It was the last night they ever shared as a family.

[-]

The next morning, Hiroshi and his daughter were standing at the manor's threshold, a traveling bag slung over the former's shoulder.

"Why've you gotta go?" asked Asami, her lip quivering. "I wanted to show you my new sculpture! It can stand up on its own and everything! Umm…most of the time…"

Hiroshi leaned down and hugged his daughter around the midsection.

"I'll only be gone four days. But I promise I'll see it first thing when I get back," he said. "Unfortunately, daddy simply can't get out of this business trip. You wouldn't believe how much finagling I had to do simply to put it off this long – but I wasn't about to miss your birthday. Not for anything."

Asami still pouted, but ultimately offered a quick nod. "Hmph…fine. But you'd better keep your promise!" she declared, though her comically puffed-out cheeks sort of took the wind out of the threat.

"And if he doesn't…the two of us have more than enough time to come up with a suitably horrible punishment," Yasuko cut in, as she came out to join them. She offered Hiroshi a peck on the cheek.

"Always ganging up on me when my guard's down. I see how it is," Hiroshi quipped, flashing a mock-grimace. "But I suppose there's nothing I can do about it for now. Unless…oh yes, that'd be perfect."

Yasuko raised an eyebrow. "And what're you getting at now, honey?" she muttered. "I don't trust that glint in your eye."

"Sorry," he said, shaking his head even as his grin went from ear to ear. "Can't spoil the surprise."

His wife shook her head as well, though more out of exasperation than anything else.

"Well, with daddy out of the picture and no lessons until tomorrow…I guess that leaves this a girl's day," she told Asami, now kneeling so she could very pointedly address the girl and not her husband. "Any ideas? Sky's the limit…erm, figuratively, of course. Bumping cars were bad enough – daddy invents bumping airships and I'm filing for divorce."

Hiroshi was tempted to protest, "I'm standing right here, you know!" but ultimately let it go.

Asami, however, was now biting her lip. "Weeeeell…I was gonna ask if we could play with the bumping cars again," she mumbled, sounding crestfallen. "But if you don't wanna…"

Out of any other six-year-old, the words might've sounded like a guilt trip, but Hiroshi could tell his daughter was sincere in her disappointment.

"They weren't…my favorite thing in the world," said Yasuko, making a queasy face. "Which is strange because it seems like it would've been right up my alley five years ago. I'm too young to feel like I'm getting old."

Soon enough, though, she was wearing her ever-brilliant smile once more. "But I guess a little more wouldn't kill me," she added, winking toward her daughter. "Dibs on the red car, though!"

"Awwwwww…I wanted that one!" responded Asami, puffing her cheeks once more.

That was the last straw; Hiroshi broke down into a spurt of throaty guffaws.

"Oh, even if it's only for a few days, I am going to miss this," he breathed between chuckles. "I love you both so, so much."

"Sweet, predictable Hiroshi. Goodbyes always make him sappy," stated Yasuko, before grinning and leaning in to kiss him full on the mouth. "Fortunately, I've always had a soft spot for 'sappy.' Love you too, dear."

"Come back soon!" exclaimed Asami, leaping into his arms so she could kiss him on the cheek. The side of his mustache bristled against her face, and she giggled.

"Don't worry," he said, pulling both of them into a tight hug. "It'll be like I never left."

[-]

Hiroshi strolled through the markets of Omashu, an aide carting around an enormous crate of crystals right behind him.

Jennamite, or "creeping crystal" as it was commonly known, was among the city's most famed exports, able to grow at a prodigious rate when exposed to organic matter. At the same time, it was also a tasty snack popular with children, composed as it was of mostly crystallized sugar.

In short, it was the perfect gift for a girl like Asami – maybe even outdoing the rest of her birthday presents combined. She could place a few crystals on a plant and, soon enough, have enough material for whatever structure she wanted. And, if it got too big or unwieldy…

Well, all she'd have to do is break off a piece and eat it.

It was the ideal surprise to make up for his time away from home, and he was certain Asami would absolutely love it. She deserved nothing less.

Not for the first time, it occurred to Hiroshi just how lucky he was. He had more wealth than he knew what to do with, and a company that was on the cutting edge of a new, dawning era. Every day, in markets as diverse as the Northern Water Tribe or his factory here in Omashu, he was getting to practice his twin passions: scientific inquiry, and business development.

And above all else…he was married to the love of his life, and with her, had produced a child so brilliant, steadfast, and compassionate, that her changing the world was less a dream and more a foregone conclusion. He had no doubt Asami would surpass him in every conceivable way, given time.

His success in business, he could at least chalk up to his own ambition and hard work. But his success in building a family…

No, he couldn't see what he'd done to deserve being half this fortunate.

Humming a merry tune as he returned to the Future Industries Omashu Branch, he directed the aide to deposit the jennamite at his hotel for packing, and strolled into the office.

A secretary immediately poked her head around the candlestick telephone on her desk, cupping the transmitter with one hand.

"Call for you on line one, Mr. Sato," she said. "It's, err…the Republic City police."

One of his eyebrows rose in mild alarm, having no idea what this could be about. Still, he politely replied, "I'll take it in my office."

He strode quickly into the office in question, waiting for the door to close completely before settling at his paper-strewn desk and removing the receiver from its handle.

"Future Industries," he announced coolly. "This is Hiroshi Sato speaking."

"Mr. Sato? This is Chief Lin Beifong," returned the other voice, rendered slightly tinny by the electronic transmission. Hiroshi sat up a little straighter; now what could've happened that necessitated personal attention from the Chief of Police herself?

"What can I do for you, Chief Beifong?" he asked, all of his earlier feelings of levity evaporating in an instant. There was a gravity in her voice that seemed to suck it away completely.

"You…may want to make sure you're sitting down for this, Mr. Sato," she told him. "I'm calling to inform you of a break-in at your estate last night…"

[-]

He'd never driven faster.

Upon being informed of the schedule he still needed to keep, Hiroshi had promptly fired his driver, taken the wheel of his company car, and began racing home at blatantly unlawful speeds.

All along, the Chief's words thundered through his ears, pounding at him like a hammer straight to the brain.

"Several members of the Agni Kai Triad, two arrested at the scene, but we believe there are three accomplices still at large…"

His foot steadily pressed down on the accelerator, weaving and bobbing between cars going at half his speed.

"Looking at corporate espionage as the most likely motive…theft of plans or prototypes to sell on the black market…"

Frankly, there was a more than even chance of crashing spectacularly long before he reached Republic City. Every time he blinked, he saw only red.

"Extensive property damage, multiple officers injured…the two we did capture put up a serious fight…"

But even within his own mind, he was steadfastly avoiding the part that'd caused his blood to run cold.

"Entire east hallway was caved in when we arrived, much of it ablaze…"

That was the point where his heart had all but fallen out of his chest. The pieces were beginning to come together, in the worst possible way…because there was a set of rare prototypes installed in the east hallway, and if that was the case then…

"We…pulled two bodies from the rubble. Your daughter only had superficial scrapes and burns, thankfully. But…it looks like that was only because…"

From that point on he'd only heard every third word.

"…shielded…"

"…own body…"

"…instantly…"

"…nothing they could…"

"…so sorry…"

With the greatest effort imaginable, he pushed it all out of his mind. He wouldn't, couldn't, believe what he was hearing.

Obviously, it was all just a figment of his overtired imagination.

It had to be.

It had to be.

[-]

It wasn't.

[-]

Hiroshi spent the first few days after returning to Republic City in police custody.

It was for his own protection, he was told, and even more so for Asami's – given that she was a material witness to the Agni Kais' crimes, and thus a potential target to be silenced. Not that she was likely to be giving testimony anytime soon.

The normally vibrant girl had turned sullen and reserved, barely speaking a word since the moment he'd reunited with her at the police station, a fluffy blanket draped over her shoulders. She politely, mutedly thanked the officers every time they offered her food or hot tea, but otherwise scarcely even moved.

Hiroshi would've been there for her more, if he could. But he was dealing with a hollow numbness of his own where his heart should've been, and whenever he opened his mouth to offer words of comfort, nothing but dry air came out.

So instead, he simply held her close to his body, as the police explained everything they'd found out so far.

As he'd surmised, the Agni Kais had indeed been after the bumping cars – or more specifically, their blueprints. Despite being designed for entertainment, the circuitry around the track was cutting-edge, and had the capability to revolutionize a great deal of the world's electrical grid. In the hands of a competitor, the prototypes were invaluable.

That was how the police were looking to catch the three who'd escaped: monitor the black and gray markets, and hope that the stolen plans would show up for sale. Lau Gan-Lan and Wonyong Keum, who were both likely buyers, had agreed to participate in the sting.

Of course, all of these "maybes" and "wait and sees" provided Hiroshi with little comfort. He demanded updates three times a day, even though the information never changed. Within a couple of days he could sense that he'd worn out the patience of the officers assigned to them, but this did little to dissuade his efforts.

And in the midst of all this, there was still so much to do, little as he was capable of getting his head around it all. He had meetings with his attorney and financial advisors; with actuaries and government bureaucrats. He had dozens of conversations that were as necessary as they were painful. And he was equipped for precisely none of it.

In those early days, if someone had stuck a contract under his nose transferring his entire personal fortune to a herd of hopping llamas, he'd probably have signed it without thinking. He simply couldn't summon up the wherewithal to actually give a crap.

The upshot, financially speaking, was that in the absence of a will all Yasuko's possessions reverted to him, and then to Asami if he too was to pass.

For the most part, this meant very little changed, given the wide gulf between their personal incomes. Her only assets of real value were royalty rights for several of her more popular songs; Lei Tai of Love and Like a Shirshu Tongue to the Heart both still saw regular airplay. He'd get a quarter of a yuan every time one of the applicable songs was played on the radio – half a yuan during peak hours.

And that miniscule drop in the bucket was the entire, sum total of Yasuko's legacy and life's work. Hiroshi wasn't sure whether to laugh or weep at the absurdity of it all.

The most difficult conversation he had to face, however, wasn't with police officers or advocates.

It was with the funerary director.

[-]

In what must've seemed like a great cosmic jest, the weather during the funeral was as bright and sunny as could be.

Even as rows upon rows of people gathered together in Yasuko's home village, their clothing a sea of despairing black, the noonday sun beat down upon them, with nary a cloud in the sky. It was the sort of day Yasuko herself would've loved.

Wasn't it supposed to rain during funerals? How could the world still seem so warm and cheerful, when all the hope had drained away from it?

Per ancient Earth Kingdom customs, Yasuko's body was to be buried in the ground by a powerful Sage – the same one who'd officiated their wedding. They'd wrapped the corpse in ornate, scented blankets, before it sank away with a single stomp of the Sage's foot.

That way, no one had to see the burns.

The Earth Sage punctuated all this with a number of long, drawling speeches of how incredible "Yasuko, daughter of Sadahito and Fujiwara" had been, and all she'd managed to accomplish in her life. He extolled her as a virtuous, noble soul, who was now at peace among the spirits.

Hiroshi heard precisely none of it. Every utterance only served to make his heart feel more and more hollow; to mock him, taunt him, with the simple and inescapable reality.

That the woman they were so effusively eulogizing was gone. That the world would never bear witness to another glimpse of her smile, or another note of her song.

That he hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye.

Watching her sink into the cold earth, leaving no indication that a human being had once lain upon it, was the last straw. A vein pulsing in his temple, he strode forward, ignoring the shocked gasps from the rest of the mourners.

And ignored their screams when he punched the Earth Sage square in the mouth.

"Don't you dare!" he shouted, his voice coming out a strangled wail. "Bending stole away her life! How can you use it to…to bury her…"

The Sage, to his credit, didn't respond by lobbing a rock at Hiroshi's head, though it looked for a moment as if he was tempted to. He slowly pulled himself back to his feet, nursing his swelling jaw.

As he did, the old man said, "All people are children of the earth. We are born to it…and it is only natural that we return to it, when our time has come."

"But it wasn't her time!" he roared, only held back from striking the Sage again by one of his business partners, who'd grasped onto his arm. "She was ripped away from this world! By…By scum. Scum that needs to pay!"

"I know that you are grieving, young man," croaked the Sage. "But it does the heart no good to dwell on thoughts of hatred and vengeance. Stewing in the past has been the ruin of countless great men throughout history."

"Then it's a good thing I'm not focusing on the past," Hiroshi spat, turning away from the Sage and grasping for Asami's tiny hand. The girl had watched this all unfold in dull, motionless silence.

"Like always…I'm looking toward the future," he added coldly, before pulling roughly on Asami's hand and storming away.

[-]

The next day, bounty posters went up all across Republic City. Fifty million yuans for the three Agni Kai members who'd escaped after ransacking the Sato manor. Each.

Dead or alive.

The police ordered him, on multiple occasions, to take the posters down. Bounty hunting, once a widely accepted profession, was now in a legal gray area at best, and not something the hardline Chief Beifong was keen on encouraging.

But Hiroshi would not be deterred. As far as he was concerned, if the police weren't capable of catching these animals themselves, then he was just going to have to pick up the slack. And with three-fifths of the Republic City Council owing him deep personal favors, there wasn't a lot Lin could do to crack down on him.

No, he wasn't one to wallow in the pits of despair, without any kind of direction. He was a man of action.

And right now, the only action that occupied his thoughts was that of revenge.

Of course, since he knew literally nothing about the perpetrators other than they were firebenders, his revenge wasn't exactly…targeted. The bounty posters only had vague descriptors attached to them, and Hiroshi fully expected to get a mountain of false positives before catching the criminals responsible.

He simply didn't care all that much.

It was worse when he was out and about in the streets. Every time he saw a man or woman firebending in public – a tea server heating up a cup with his hands, or an engineer redirecting electricity away from a downed power line – he had to suppress the urge to tackle them to the ground.

Because as far as he was concerned, every single one could be the one. That heartless monster who'd dealt the killing blow.

The one who deserved to feel every ounce of torture he'd inflicted on Yasuko.

One day, he very nearly did it. While leading a tight-lipped Asami by the hand through a crowded street, he saw a pair of men with fists raised toward each other.

"How could you do this?" demanded the first man, his eyes wide and wild. "You knew how much she meant to me!"

"She thinks you're an entitled little creep who won't leave her alone for three seconds," said the other. "Which, you know…you are. Take a hint, and back off."

"Shut up!" the first man wailed. "She's mine, you hear me?! She just doesn't realize it yet! But I'll show her…and I'll show you too!"

And with that, he shoved the second man against a wall, and held his twitching hand aloft. A fireball appeared in his palm.

The moment the flame burst to life, the atmosphere along the street shifted dramatically. The second man, who'd been so snappy and confident a few seconds ago, trembled in fear, holding up his hands to protect his face. And the crowd, who'd been steadfastly ignoring the scene as they walked by, were now stumbling over each other in a panic to get away.

"I'm the one with power, you see?" sneered the first man, glaring cruelly down at his rival. He waved his hand in an arc, increasing the size and intensity of the fire. "I'm the one who can protect her. Not you. She just needs to be reminded."

Hiroshi barely heard any of this, however. The moment the flames appeared, he hadn't been able to see anything else.

Just a bender, lording his "power" over someone weaker than them. Making them cower. Making them suffer.

This had to be the one, he convinced himself in an instant. The wretched pile of garbage who'd stolen the light from his life.

Without thinking about it, Hiroshi felt his hand dip into his pocket. It came out holding a sharp-edged screwdriver.

But before he could move more than a single step, he felt small but firm arms seize him around the midsection.

"Daddy…no…" whispered Asami, looking up at him with shimmering eyes. They were the first words she'd said to him all day.

Even if he wasn't exactly the pinnacle of physical fitness himself, there was little chance of a six-year-old holding him back for more than a few seconds. But those few seconds were enough.

"Police, freeze!" shouted a uniformed officer, swinging down from a passing airship on metal cables. Two more landed with him, standing at the ready in perfect Southern Praying Mantis stances. "You're under arrest for attempted assault and battery!"

The first man threw his hands up in the air, the fireball dissipating into a few stray embers. He suddenly looked a lot more pathetic as the officers seized and cuffed him.

Meanwhile, Hiroshi was looking down at his daughter, whose lip was quivering so much it seemed like she was experiencing a mini-earthquake. Far from the cold detachment she'd exhibited over the last several days, she looked now to be on the verge of tears.

"Don't…blame them…" she said, sniffing as a droplet of snot leaked out of her nose. "They're…not the reason mommy died…"

She buried her tiny, crying face in his stomach, before choking out the last two words.

"…I am…"

[-]

Hiroshi set his daughter down upon a couch that was worth more than some people's whole apartments, waiting for her to blow her nose on one of the obscenely expensive pillows.

Only once she'd settled down a bit did he ask, "Why would you think you had anything to do with…with what happened to your mom?"

Asami sat there for a long time, unmoving, before answering. Her eyes appeared distant and haunted – almost as if possessed by a spirit.

"She didn't wanna do it…" said his little girl. "She hated those bumping cars but I made her play with me over, and over, and over…"

She stared hard at her father, before adding in an even smaller voice, "I'm not dumb, okay? I know what those men were after. She was gonna just go and read a book in the library but I begged."

Asami crumpled into a little ball, breaking utterly.

"I begged…"

Hiroshi's heart sank out of his chest. He felt the overwhelming impulse to do something, anything to wipe that expression away from his daughter's face, but nothing came to his overstressed mind.

His best, feeble attempt was to tell her, "Think about what you're saying, Asami. You couldn't have known any of this would happen. If anyone's at fault, it's…"

The man who created the technology they came to steal in the first place, finished his traitorous subconscious.

Who ripped her away from her quiet life and tiny apartment, in the name of keeping her "safe."

Who placed her in the biggest, most lavish mansion in the city, surrounded by enough treasures to satisfy a king.

Who might as well have painted a big red target on her head.

Those intrusive thoughts had been needling into him ever since he'd first realized what the Agni Kais were after, seeping like gas into a poorly vented room whenever he allowed his mind to idle. The hours he spent trying and failing to fall asleep were especially torturous.

The thoughts were as ridiculous as they were meddlesome. Of course none of this was his fault! The only people worthy of blame had a bounty on their heads right now – a bounty he would collect on.

So why wouldn't this suffocating feeling go away?

"Daddy? Daddy…?" mumbled Asami, cutting into his reverie. "Daddy, what's the matter? You stopped talking all of a sudden…"

Without meaning to, Hiroshi seized his daughter around the shoulders, holding her tight.

"It's not your fault, you hear me?" he said through gritted teeth, glaring at her so hard that Asami shrunk back, just a little bit. "It's not yours and it's not mine and it's not anybody's! Except for…"

Suddenly, with a roar of frustration, he did an about-face and slammed both fists into the opposite wall, before leaning his forehead against the polished wood as well.

"Except for the man I'm going to make sure pays for his crimes. I don't know where he is, I don't know what he looks like…I don't even know if he's a 'he' to begin with," he continued on, his voice turning low and dangerous. "But that monster is out there, somewhere. And I swear by all that is spiritual, he won't get away with this."

But that just seemed to render Asami even more distraught. Like she had when he'd nearly intervened in the street fight, she ran up from behind and gripped him around the legs.

"I don't need that," she whispered. "I just…need my daddy…"

Hiroshi turned back around and hugged her once again. "You don't know what you want, sweetie," he responded, with a smile that didn't entirely reach his eyes. "But you'll see. Once we catch him, everything will be alright."

[-]

They never caught him.

To be sure, several bounty hunters – including a woman in heavy orange armor, a musclebound man wearing a red helmet, and a motley group that consisted of two men, a woman, an ambiguously gendered child, and a goat-dog – all turned in their fair share of firebenders (and one particularly irate waterbender).

But as predicted, this scattershot strategy ultimately produced exactly zero actual members of the Agni Kai Triad. Indeed, the most any of the "suspects" seemed to be guilty of, between them, were a handful of parking violations and one case of public indecency.

And this lukewarm success rate did little to endear him to a police department already fed up with his "overpaid vigilantes" tearing up the streets in search for, in essence, a single grain of sand amidst a vast desert.

Finally, after the eighth such case of "mistaken identity," Chief Beifong had put her foot down.

"Cancel the bounty, or I'm cancelling it for you. By putting the man offering the reward in a cell without a key," she said sternly. "I don't care who your 'friends' are. In my city, no one is above the law."

"But it seems some are certainly below it," he hissed back, before storming out.

So the posters went down, and the bounties were quietly rescinded. And meanwhile, they were still no closer to catching their quarry.

Days turned into months, and soon enough it seemed he was the only person who still cared about seeing justice done. He still called the police daily to demand an update, but he no longer was even getting connected to officers; merely an overworked clerk who told him every single time, in an exhausted drawl rendered rough from a lifetime of smoking, that the Yasuko Sato case was still under investigation and they'd get back to him as soon as they found out more.

Hiroshi, for his part, had long since ceased to hold his breath. The murder had been front-page news the day after it occurred, but by the next it'd left the paper entirely. New stories and new cases arose every day, and no one bothered to pay any attention to the old.

Which only served to unravel Hiroshi even further. He'd only managed, barely, to keep things together in the wake of Yasuko's death by focusing on a concrete course of action: catching her killer, and making him suffer.

But now, that course had been ripped out from under him. Without a clear path forward, he suddenly was rendered listless and adrift.

He continued to work, but no longer felt any spark to it. The embers of imagination and invention, which'd burned in his heart for as long as he could remember, were now dimmed and lifeless.

He continued to interact with friends, colleagues, and business partners, but no longer found he could enjoy their company. Each of them, of course, expressed solace and sympathy regarding Yasuko's passing, but he spent most of his conversations these days desperately wishing for them to be over.

And he continued to come home to Asami, every night, but was utterly ill-equipped to offer her anything of substance. For this, he felt especially guilty, because he knew she needed her father now more than ever.

Hiroshi knew she needed someone to hold her, and embrace her, and tell her everything was going to be okay soon enough. But his arms simply couldn't manage the gesture, and his mouth couldn't form the words.

He'd already broken one promise to her, after all – her mother's slayer still roamed free. How could he stand to face her, when he'd so utterly failed?

So instead, he grew distant. Withdrawn, even cold. Some days, the only words he exchanged with Asami were a terse "good morning" and "good night."

Three or four months passed – he wasn't keeping especially close track of the time – with him in that fugue state, all-but-sleepwalking through life as he drifted from one appointment to the next. Future Industries' profits continued to skyrocket, but he barely paid a cursory glance to the balance sheets that passed his desk every day.

If things had remained in that state for much longer…well, Hiroshi wasn't sure what would've happened to him. Turned to drinking, perhaps, or some other substance.

He didn't feel pain in those days, exactly, but more so a sense of…emptiness. A gaping hole in his chest that ached to be filled, and yet he couldn't possibly imagine ever would be.

That was when he'd received the visit.

[-]

It started out like so many others. An old acquaintance reaching out, offering words of condolence that went in one ear and out the other.

"I was so sorry to hear about Yasuko," said Mela, the Eel-Swans' old manager. She'd scheduled an appointment to meet him during his lunch break, which he nearly always spent in his office these days. "I thought of speaking to you at the funeral, but…well, you seemed to have enough on your mind at the time."

Hiroshi nodded dully, already counting the seconds until he could terminate this encounter. He'd never exactly disliked Mela, but they certainly hadn't been bosom friends, either. So why was she calling on him all these months later?

The hemming and hawing he could sense in her voice told him it was a topic she was hesitant to broach.

"Out with it, will you?" he snapped, a bit more harshly than he'd been intending. "I'm sorry, but…my patience for conversations like this has run dry of late. If you have some additional business, then please. Just get it over with."

"Trust me…I know exactly how you feel there. More than you might imagine," spoke Mela in a low voice. "There's something important I'd like you to hear."

Hiroshi's impression of Mela had always been that she was – to use the most generous term possible – flighty. She had a good head on her shoulders for the music business, but all too often had that head too far up in the clouds for his liking. The ridiculous costumes she'd insisted on stuffing Yasuko into had been but one demonstration.

Now, however, she was speaking in tones so cold and serious it sent a chill down his spine.

"It's about what you said at the funeral. When you decked that Earth Sage straight in the face," she continued, after a brief pause.

"Yes, yes, I've already apologized for that," said Hiroshi, barely listening. "And paid far more restitution than I think was warranted, frankly…"

But before he could go on any further, she interjected, "You misunderstand me, Mr. Sato. I think that arrogant old fool deserved what he got. What I'm trying to tell you is…I think we're in agreement."

Hiroshi's brow furrowed tightly. "What do you mean, exactly?" he asked.

"When you called him out for using bending to bury one of its victims," she answered coolly. "I'd call it disrespectful at best – even spiritually blasphemous. Ever heard of Jianzhu, the Butcher of Zhulu Pass? Because that was all I could think of when I saw that bastard desecrate her body. Thinking about it still makes me want to throw up."

The Future Industries CEO nodded dully, but the confused expression didn't leave his face.

"Where are you going with this?" he murmured.

In lieu of a direct answer, Mela began to explain, "A little while after…everything happened, I decided to move back to my hometown of Dandu. Stayed with my brother for a bit. And well, we…met someone."

Hiroshi was tempted to say something glib like "how fun for you," but something about her voice seemed to indicate she wasn't talking about some random tryst. Her tone sounded almost…

Reverential.

"Me, my brother, and one of his friends…we've been working behind the scenes, these last few months. Building something," she said, and there was no question now of the nigh-religious gleam in her eye. "At first I was skeptical, but that was before he spoke to me. He has this way about him, this…energy. That makes you feel like he can make the impossible reality."

"I still don't understand what you're talking about," remarked Hiroshi with a frown. "Or what it has to do with me."

"It has to do with all of us. Every non-bender like you, or me, or countless others…who've lost someone close to us," she replied. "And for no other reason, than because they got on the wrong side of some scumbag…who can make fire or ice with their mind."

Mela gripped him around the shoulder, her fingers tight as a vise. Her murky brown eyes had grown wide with pure zeal.

"What happened to Yasuko was tragic. But hardly unique," she added in a sharp whisper. "All throughout history, those born with power have lorded it over those without. Beaten them, stolen from them, violated their bodies…or worse. And up until now we've been expected to just take it."

"And this…person you're talking about. He thinks he can change all that?" asked Hiroshi, his frown deepening. "He thinks he can stand alone against ten thousand years of history?"

"That's just it, though. He isn't alone," said Mela. "He has Yong, and Guk Su, and me…and we were just the first. So many more will join, once they hear his Revelation. You could help with that, I think…if you're willing."

She fished a business card from her breast pocket and handed it over to him. There was no name or logo on the white piece of cardstock, however – only a handwritten phone number.

"Think about it. That's all I ask," she added, bowing her head low to the CEO. "And if you decide you want to hear more…give us a call."

[-]

Hiroshi spent the rest of that evening thinking of nothing else.

He'd gone straight home after his encounter with Mela, his mind racing far too much to even consider working the afternoon.

Asami, ever-inquisitive even in her depressed state, had asked him why he was home so uncharacteristically early, but he'd simply ignored the question. It was rude and neglectful, and he'd have to make it up to her later…but right now, he couldn't concentrate on anything but the three square-inches of cardstock in his pocket.

Shutting himself inside his home office, he sat down next to his private phone line and stared at the row of hastily scrawled numbers.

So Mela had gotten herself mixed up with some kind of…anti-bender revolutionaries? He wouldn't have thought her the type. Then again, it wasn't as if he'd ever really known her intimately.

Of greater consequence were the things she'd been saying. On a purely intellectual level, he found it hard to disagree. There was something fundamentally unjust with the way bending appeared to be randomly distributed among the population, its incredible power just as likely to go to a sage or a serial killer.

The rest, however?

It was true that, with no knowledge of the killer's identity save that they were a firebender, Hiroshi had begun to see every firebender as potentially being "the one." Even a single flicker of flame was often enough to make him see red.

But was fire really what deserved his ire? It was the tool, not the root cause.

Because if it'd been the Red Monsoons breaking into the manor, Yasuko would've been frozen or drowned instead. The Terras would've crushed her to death. The Triple Threats could've done all three.

No…No, Mela had a point. It wasn't the individual elements which were at fault. It was the culture surrounding them. The society that bent over backwards to accommodate them in every way.

A society which'd taught that heartless monster, from the day he first learned to produce sparks, that his abilities made him better than his fellows. That he deserved to take whatever he wanted from those too weak to fight back.

Including their lives.

This new mode of thinking made so much sense – and, helpfully, it assuaged that heavy feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach. Even if he couldn't catch the animal who'd stolen the love of his life away from him…even if he couldn't grant Asami the sweet gift of revenge…

He could make sure no other child would have to suffer as she did.

The more he thought about it, the surer Hiroshi became. Here, at last, was the pathway he'd been seeking: a way forward where he wouldn't have to ache, or hurt, or go numb at every last reminder of everything he'd lost. A way to take action, to make the future better.

The way he always had.

Still…if that was to be his enemy? A system so entrenched, so ancient, that it stretched beyond the bounds of recorded history?

Mela had been right about that too. He couldn't do this alone.

But it seemed he wouldn't have to.

Fingers shaking, he placed them in the spokes of the rotary wheel and began dialing, one digit at a time.

It took several moments for the switchboard to connect. Moments in which his heart went still and the breath held in his throat, his skin all but burning alive from anticipation.

Then, suddenly, a voice sounded on the other end. A voice so low, and so cold, that it was like ice had been thrown across his body. And yet…

A voice that, instinctually, he knew he could trust.

"Hello," said the man who would became his greatest, and only friend. "This is Amon."