While Korra was off on her adventure with Mako and Bolin, Asami had once again spent the day locked in her office, answering calls, assuring investors that the Satomobile was still a quality vehicle. The embarrassment of losing, and really not even finishing, the big race in Ba Sing Se had sunk in upon her arrival back home to the pile of newspaper headlines disgracing her name.
Korra of course had tried to console Asami, but the conversation inevitably turned to Chai Son and his failure as a driver. Why should Asami bear the brunt of negative publicity for Chai Son's mediocracy? A guy like that gets more credit than he deserves, Korra had said. This infuriated Asami deeply, perhaps partially because it was true, but still she found herself defending him.
It was exhausting – the need for Asami to be perfect in the eyes of everyone, even at times Korra. So, over the past few days, she took out her frustration on the person she loved the most by isolating and working herself to the weary bone. It wasn't difficult – Korra had closed off to her too. It was subtle but nonetheless, she felt it – Korra was afraid of herself, of what she was becoming, and this must have been lonely. Asami wanted to be there for her partner but she couldn't force her way in; she had to be patient and admittedly that could also get quite lonely.
This evening Asami had agreed on a late-night outing with Varrick and Chai Son. Though she was exhausted, she thought perhaps she could shake herself out of it by mixing business with pleasure.
The instructions she received were to wait for a call, which would provide the address and password to a masquerade ball. In the meantime, she got gussied up, twirling her hair in an up-do and dressing in a red and gold formal gown that came up high at the neck and opened at the back.
Because she was Asami Sato, she happened to have an emergency formal gown lying around her office, but she had to make a call to Daisuke to procure a mask for her – porcelain and bejeweled – which arrived on her desk minutes before the phone rang with the information. The address she knew right away – a country estate outside the city that had a rotating list of powerful renters. The password she wrote down on a napkin she had used to dab her lipstick.
Asami wanted to invite Daisuke to come along but was instructed this was an exclusive affair that no one without an invitation and password, and especially not the Avatar, could attend. It was likewise understandable Korra would not be invited to these functions – her naive sense of justice, her brashness, her immense spirit she projected into the world took up too much uncomfortable space in luxuriously stuffy places like that. Asami sighed and shuddered, feeling a cold chill sidle up her spine. Those were all things she loved about her Avatar.
The phone rang once more.
"Asami Sato speaking."
"Miss Sato, your ride awaits you," a man's voice, her chauffeur, said.
She gathered herself up, did a last check in the mirror, and met her driver downstairs, who held the door open to the luxury Sato Duesenberg.
The estate was about 45 minutes outside of the city, a massive thing surrounded by a platinum gate with a thick wall of bougainvillea hovering over the archway.
Two men in tuxedos and matching masks stood at the gate.
"Password," one of the masked men said.
From the open window, Asami replied: "Fidelio."
The two men nodded and pulled opened the gate, motioning for the car to pull forward.
They followed the long driveway to a courtyard leading up to the house where other limousines and luxury cars were parked. They were not all Satomobiles. Some were Firerarris, which had made a splash among the rich in recent years, and after winning the Grand Prix, it now reigned supreme.
The driver came around and opened the door for her.
"Here we go." Asami put the mask on, which covered the top half of her face, exposing her luscious red lips and stepped out, taking the chauffer's gloved hand for polite support.
"Thank you," she said to the driver, who bowed. She tried to give him a hefty tip but he refused.
"That's not appropriate. You're all set," He said.
"Will you wait for me to return?"
"I'll wait for however long is appropriate."
Asami didn't know how to interpret that, but either way, she didn't plan on staying out too late. She missed Korra. It was important for them to have their own respective lives, but suddenly she wished Korra was there with her.
She entered the mansion's massive foyer where door men checked her coat. From the foyer, a sound emanated – live music, jazz. She walked down the corridor and emerged in a large gallery full of rich people partying, masks and fancy duds and martini glasses filled with fluorescent green cactus juice. A jazz trio of cello, piano, and sax played blindfolded with silk bandanas; twas an impressive feat, playing like that.
People danced or lounged about or laughed maniacally or cried unstoppably, frozen facial expressions etched on the masks somehow making everything OK with the way they glossed over reality.
A masked waiter approached her, one arm behind his back, the other positioning a tray of flutes filled with bubbly champagne.
"Drink, Madame?"
Asami was not a Madame because she was not married but she didn't say anything, just nodded and took a flute. She sipped and stood watching the band playing. Korra would have loved this. Maybe she should have pushed for an extra invitation. After all, this didn't seem so bad.
Deciding to explore further, she walked passed billowing drapes leading out to the balcony. Steps on either side wound toward a marble fountain where drunken party goers lay about or ran amok like heathens. The glorious waxing gibbous moon, nearly full, hung heavily above them, illuminating the earth about them though simultaneously obscuring the stars.
She continued walking and found herself entering the mansion from another door which lead to a hallway of mirrors and fine art with dark erotic themes. Another sound emanated from one of the rooms as did the smell of smoke, a combination of incense and ember island cigars. She knew one of the scents from anywhere because it reminded Asami of her father.
Curious, she slowly swung the door open and realized what the sounds were – moaning and screams of pleasure and maybe pain.
Masked men and women, some with old, saggy, hairy bodies banging models with perky breaks and tight pussies and mysterious faces. She was mortified and intrigued, trying her best to keep her body from betraying her face.
The room opened up into another room, where masked leather women had men tied up in gold chains, crushing their balls with their heels. Fuck, she thought.
And in another, a billiard table where no one played pool. They fucked. A woman gripped the eight ball on the table, moaning and breathing heavily with her legs spread as another woman ate her out.
A male couple leaned opposite the table, hard fucking, causing the whole thing to shake. Asami blushed beneath her mask.
She walked down another hallway leading to a slightly ajar trap door disguised as a seven-foot painting of a voluptuous woman with creamy skin getting her pussy devoured by a monstrously large purple pentapus, the woman's head angled back and face frozen in ecstasy.
Through the crack she saw cloaked figures chanting something inscrutable in unison; a masked naked woman stood at the center. She felt as if she was seeing something she wasn't supposed to.
"Excuse me, Miss," a voice from behind her said calmly.
Asami nearly jumped out of her skin. "Oh, didn't see or hear you there."
"Please follow me." The masked man motioned toward the door.
"What's going on in there, anyway?" Asami found herself asking.
The man did not respond but headed toward the direction he indicated. Out of curiosity, she followed. She attached the shock button to her glove to be safe though continued on nonchalantly when the gentlemen turned around to check whether she followed.
Korra's house was dark and quiet when she glided in from Air Temple island. She had a lot on her mind, considering all that went down at the library and her subsequent conversation with Tenzin. But at the moment, the one thing that stuck out more than the rest was Asami's absence. Better wait for morning to do anything because Asami was in no immediate danger, she tried to convince herself.
She went into the kitchen and grabbed a leftover bun bao which she took heaping bites of, realizing she had forgotten to eat amidst all the hubbub.
The house was quiet. Too quiet and too empty, and Korra couldn't stand it; she had to go find Asami.
Nearly as soon as she got home, she left, flying off toward Sato Tower. She had hoped to find Asami back from her business adventure passed out on her office couch. Korra would tuck Asami's beautiful hair behind her beautiful head gently as she napped; then she'd carry her off to their home. Though why Asami would choose to go back to the office rather than home to Korra's arms did not cross the Avatar's mind; she was following her gut.
Landing at the front steps, she saw Mako there, looking for a way in.
"I thought cops can't enter a place without a warrant," Korra said.
"When someone I care about is possibly in danger, I'm a friend first," Mako said.
Korra nodded. It appeared they both couldn't sit still and wait at home for the world to happen to them. In this moment, they had to happen to the world.
"But it's locked," Mako continued. "I don't know how to get in. You don't happen to have a key do ya?"
"Nope. I could fly up. Or…" Korra took a step back and inhaled deeply before blowing the doors off the hinges. "C'mon."
They rushed in and rode the elevator up the scores of floors to the top. The double doors to Asami's office was bolted shut, which Korra punched through.
Inside was dark and deserted; papers that had rustled and flew about in Korra's grand entrance fluttered back down to the ground.
"Korra can you try not to make a scene everywhere you go?" Mako said, flipping on the lights.
"No guarantees." Korra was focused, looking for clues.
Mako joined in, discovering makeup and street clothes strewn about in front of a mirror.
"Looks like she was getting ready for something," he said.
Korra kept looking around, stopping at a napkin that had floated to the floor. She scooped it up and read: "Fidelio."
"What's that?" Mako said.
"The napkin has this word written on it in Asami's handwriting." She showed Mako the napkin with Fidelio in palmer's cursive next Asami's red stained lips.
Mako studied it: "I have no idea what this means."
"Me neither."
"Stop. You can't be here!" An urgent voice called.
Makorra turned around and saw two guards standing at the entrance of the office.
"We're not!" Korra said.
"Yes you are! I see you right there!" One of the guards, the big dumb one said, pointing a thick finger at her.
"No she's not!" Mako replied, putting the napkin in his pocket. He turned to Korra and whispered "What next?"
Korra looked out the window toward the spirit portal and moon behind it, which seemed to sink closer to Earth with every passing hour.
"Stop lying to us! You're under arrest!"
"OK, we will. And no, we're not," Korra said, backing away toward the window and unlatching it slowly with metalbending.
Mako followed; he could only guess what she was about to do next. The window flapped open.
"Mako grab on!" she said, preparing her glider and launching out the window, with Mako holding onto her for dear life.
They were gliding down down down and away from the pathetic security guards, which Mako saw over Korra's shoulder.
They landed in the park near the entrance to the spirit wilds.
"Why are we here?" Mako said.
"Shh, I get a stronger signal here because of the vines." Korra leaned down and touched one of the roots. A brightly colored light flashed beneath her hand as she closed her eyes, tuning into the location of Asami's spirit and body that housed it. As soon as she locked on, they recovered Mako's motorbike and followed the trail.
About a mile up they parked the bike in the bushes and treaded swiftly toward the estate staying low and out of sight of the occasional passing car. When they arrived, they hung back in the bushes, watching the cars enter the through the front gate; some were dropped off and shuttled off to toward the mansion.
"They're all in formal wear. Look at us. Even if we managed to sneak in, we'd be caught just like that." Mako silently snapped his fingers.
"So? I'm the Avatar."
Mako rolled his eyes. "Yes, and we don't know who these people are! They're a different breed Korra. Why do you think the case I've tried time and again to reopen kept getting shut down? How do you explain the fact that I'm all but back on traffic duty?"
"But Chief Beifong…"
"Chief Beifong is just Lin now. She resigned, remember? It made headlines."
"Oh yea," Korra said. "It's been a busy year." She liked Lin a lot more all of the sudden.
"And then she ran off with Kya," Mako added.
"Whaaaa? How did I miss that?!" Korra blurted out louder than made Mako comfortable.
Two gentlemen looked in their direction briefly, but it was pitch dark in the abyss of the woods, save for when another car pulled up and its headlights reflected the deep blue of Korra's eyes.
They waited for the car to turn and obscure the men's view of the woods where they hid and ducked slowly back into the bushes.
Without saying another word, they ambled back, knowing what they had to do – ambush the next car and hope it was a couple that matched their proportions. A mile up, they did just that, Korra hopping down from a tree branch, causing the car to come to a screeching halt, while Mako had his fire daggers out, threatening and pulling the couple out the car to the side of the road.
Korra told them what was what, keeping her icy blue eyes on the driver. Incidentally, she and Mako had obscured their faces with scarves, though Korra's eyes were distinctly Water Tribe blue and glowed through anything, a tapetum lucidum they had evolved to adjust during long winter nights that lasted months at a time.
"This is what's going to happen – you and you take off your clothes," Korra began, the chill in her voice matching her eyes.
"B-but it's cold out here."
"Now."
"You could at least be a little nice. They didn't do anything. We're robbing them," Mako reminded her.
"Everyone who comes to these are guilty of one thing or another," Korra said spitefully.
Mako looked at her. "You know who is in there."
Asami. Korra remembered her mission, trying to sound a little more like she cared about these folks. "Like I said – you and you, clothes off. Please. And we'll leave you with a blanket if you have any in the car."
"There's an afghan," the woman said, undressing. The husband followed birthday suit save for undergarments.
Korra and Mako dressed in the couple's clothes and popped on the masks. The dress fit Korra beautifully, her curves and muscles silhouetted in the bedazzled thing. The tuxedo, meantime was too short for Mako. The now naked and trembling man was about five inches shorter. Either way, he had to make it work and pass it off as if he did it on purpose.
Next thing Korra did surprised Mako. She walked over to the couple and did an airbending move that put them out cold.
"What was that!?" Mako said incredulously.
"I don't know. I just came up with it. Now grab the afghan and cover them up." Korra found her way to the back seat and held a fire dagger to the driver's neck, addressing him next: "You're going to drive us to the mansion and stay silent. Silently. No questions."
The driver nodded and Mako took a seat next to Korra in the back. They pulled up to the gate, said "Fidelio," and were granted access to the estate.
When the driver pulled up to a dark parking spot, Mako leaned in to say something but Korra couldn't trust anyone she didn't know and put him to sleep with the same bending moving from before. Mako gave her a look.
"What? We don't know for sure if he's going to immediately run out of here and snitch on us. Besides, he must know I'm the Avatar after that," Korra said.
"You're right. Just, wow," Mako could only reply.
"He'll live. Let's go."
The two got out the car and walked straight-backed toward the front door of the mansion and entered.
They went through the motions, though refusing any and all things to drink; this was their first, maybe second mistake. Either way, Korra wouldn't waste time considering it later because it didn't matter. To Korra, all that did at that particular moment was Asami.
The mysterious masked man ushered Asami to a back parlor/office with handsome amenities; it was a rich man's cave. Two masked men sat in thronelike chairs made of mahogany, leaning hither and thither. One of them had a cane; Asami recognized it.
The man who escorted Asami had already gone by the time she remembered he was there. The other two stood up, flauting impeccably tailored tuxes. One wore a mask with a crying face; the other, a laughing face. The laughing face-masked man leaned upon his cane.
"Glad you could make it, beautiful." He said calmly.
"Hey there Kiddo!" the crying face said with exuberance.
"Varrick, and… Chai Son?" Asami said. She had recognized their voices and gaits, Varrick's styled suit, and Chai Son's shiny cane.
"Duh!" Varrick removed his mask and Chai Son followed cautiously after making sure the door was closed.
"What sort of party is this?" Asami said, forgetting she herself wore a mask.
"What? You don't know? You grew up your whole life with your father and you don't know?" Chai Son said, lighting a cigar.
"What are you talking about?" Asami was starting to connect the dots but needed to hear it out loud.
Chai Son chuckled. "Your father… was a great man. A great, great man. I only hoped I could be half of what he was. Now I realize I could be double. Triple. Exponentially what I ever imagined I could be as a little boy."
"My father used to come to these?" Asami said.
Chai Son nodded. "Oh yes, and more. That is, until he changed."
"What was that going on in the other room – with the orgies and the chanting? What is this place?" Asami needed answers to help her process further.
"Asami don't worry. All those rich and powerful guys are into this sort of secret life of debauchery. They're bored. What else is there to do?!" Varrick chimed in.
"Are you in on this too?" Asami still didn't know how to react.
"All the orgies and black magic stuff? Oh no no no. I'm just here for the bootleg cactus juice and all the off-the-books money it can make me. And we wanna know if you wanna join us in this enterprise," Varrick said with a sly smile as he twisted his skinny mustachio.
"Asami, if I may," Chai Son began, taking a step toward her. "All of this looks sort of curious. So, let me tell you a story. First, I need to come clean. I didn't hurt my leg in a car crash, though my father did die in it. And in a Satomobile no less. But that's not all... I don't come from money. I come from nothing, a pauper. My father saved and worked his butt off to afford a Satomobile. He thought it would elevate our family's status, give us a new beginning in the New World. Of course he worshipped Hiroshi Sato, self-made Captain of Industry who also came from nothing. He would save every newspaper clipping of your father– wanted to be inspired, to inspire me." Chai Son's eyes watered and he walked over to the six foot fire place, staring into it.
Asami listened empathetically, still giving Chai Son the benefit of the doubt, while Varrick watched in amusement. This kid coulda been a mover star, he thought.
Chai Son continued: "After my father died, it was me and mother. We had to sell the Satomobile to make ends meet, but it didn't matter because she died the following year of a broken heart. I started hustling around the Republic City streets, until one day I heard about the Great Uniter and what she was doing. And I believed – until she tossed me away, stripped me of my rank! I was to be Captain, but my leg was destroyed by a scrappy metalbender defending his dusty corner of the Earth Kingdom. I eventually made it to the Si Wong Desert and fell in with sandbenders who introduced me to cactus juice; then I learned how to talk, how to dress, how to woo. And the rest, like they say in the movers, is history."
"Wow, that's a very… um story," Asami said.
"But wait, here comes the best part," Chai Son said. He got closer to Asami and removed her mask, looking her in her big green eyes.
Varrick had a little notebook out and was taking notes. "This is good stuff. Maybe I'll write a book!"
"I carried a picture with me the whole time. It kept me going – through the war, the desert, when I began racing and tasting success. You see, I saved one of my father's newspaper clippings – the one of you and yours at a press conference. The first time I saw that picture, I knew I loved you and that I had to be worthy of you. Had to win you over." Chai Son pulled out the clipping from his breast pocket. It was mangled, though had been carefully tucked in an envelope.
Asami recoiled. She didn't need to see it.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Why? Because, here I am. We could do so much good for Republic City – you and me baby."
"Don't call me baby."
Chai Son took another step toward Asami and she took another step back. Varrick stood up.
"I don't want you to feel pressured, but I –" Chai Son continued.
"Too late," Asami said. She was becoming painfully aware of the uncomfortableness of the room, but she maintained her cool until she could assess the situation and figure out her next move.
"I thought we had a connection. We got on so well. I don't understand." Chai Son's voice began to waver.
Korra and Mako had meantime made it to Asami's location and were listening in on the other side of the door. Korra could hear Asami say:
"Perhaps briefly, but I'm taken. I love somebody and they love me. I'm sorry if you ever got any other impression after our first outing."
"The Avatar," Chai Son spat out. "But you don't understand, I did all of this. All of it for you!"
Korra almost bust down the door at the sound of her title coming from his stupid mouth but stopped herself when she heard Asami's response.
"No YOU don't understand! I told you I'm not interested and you have to accept that. You think I'm some pretty little fool you're entitled to, now that you're not nothin'. You think that no means yes and yes means yes. It's No – now and for the rest of this lifetime."
Korra's heart was going to burst out of her chest hearing Asami talk like this.
"Are you talking about me and you as something, or me and you and Varrick and our enterprise."
"Both. Everything. I don't want to have anything more to do with you. Or you for that matter, Varrick," Asami said, turning to the man who disappointed her more than she cared to admit. "Does Zhu Li know this?"
Varrick slumped, ashamed. "No, and please don't tell her."
Chai Son, meantime, pressed on. "Men don't become successful in life by taking no for an answer. Me and you – we're meant for each other. You'll see that, and soon too."
"The lady said no," Varrick said resolutely, looking up and meeting Chai Son's desperate gaze.
Chai Son was taken aback before writing Varrick off as soft like Hiroshi Sato turned out to be. "And that concerns me how?" He reached for Asami's arm and a struggle had barely a moment to ensue when Korra and Mako burst through the double doors.
"Unhand her, hoodlum," Korra said, arms ready to shoot fire.
Before Korra could make another move, Asami shocked Chai Son on his neck, knocking him out cold.
"Darling," Asami said, turning to Korra.
"Baby," Korra replied.
Asami leapt into the Avatar's arms and Korra leaned in for a kiss, forgetting she was wearing a mask. She pulled it off and tried again.
"Looks like you had the situation handled, but we came in case you needed back up." Korra smiled.
"I'll always take backup from you," Asami met Korra's gaze and let it linger there."
"Asami, I'm so so sorry," Korra continued.
"For what?"
"Everything. For being a jerk to you. For the decision I've made without you."
"This is great guys but can we do this somewhere else?" Mako interrupted.
"I agree with the kid. For once," Varrick said. "Anyway, follow me. I know a few shortcuts outta here." He made his way to the bookshelf and pulled a book, revealing a trap door.
"Should we grab Chai Son? For questions?" Mako said.
"Kidnap Chai Son? Thanks for the suggestion, officer Mako. And yes. Do you wanna carry him or should I?" Korra steadied herself to make moves but noticed the spot where Chai Son had fallen was empty. He was missing.
"Damn, probably made it to one of the trap doors. Could be any one of them. And there are so many in a house like this," Varrick said, biting his thumb nail. "At any rate, let's get outta here. I'll have my drive taker us somewhere where we can part safely."
They followed Varrick through the secret door behind the bookshelf which lead to the outside. They hustled to his limousine, which drove them off the property without making a scene, no harm, no foul.
It was almost a little too easy. Korra been expected more of a fight.
Varrick, meantime was visibly nervous. "You guys don't realize what sort of network, what sort of forces we could have upset in there."
"Varrick, don't worry. What force could be more powerful than the Avatar?" Asami said, cradling herself into Korra's arms in the back of the limo.
Korra gulped, fearing the truth in Asami's words.
Meantime, a robed figure wearing a laughing mask looked out one of the windows of the mansion at the limo driving off into the night.
Back at Korrasami's country home, they curled up facing each other on a blanket on the floor in front of the fire place, Asami gently stroking Korra's hair, Korra leaning her head into Asami's nook below her chin.
Korra had told Asami everything that went down that very long day – how she lost control of herself and how Mako connected a symbol that flashed in her eye to the one on Chai Son's pinky ring.
Asami confirmed what she saw, though neither could definitively say Chai Son was responsible for any of it. He hadn't confirmed his involvement in any type of magicks nor any plan to hurt the Avatar, though he didn't deny it either. What shook Korra up was seeing how spooked Varrick was in the limo. All this was on her mind.
Asami kissed her girlfriend's forehead as if to stupefy her busy brain. It worked. What an effect this woman had on the Avatar like none other.
Finally, after a spell, they both fell asleep right there on the floor in each other's arms. The apocalypse would wait until after they were well rested.