It was Friday night and, due to the city's ongoing trend of everything needing to be instantaneous, Yoyo's was practically empty. It was not the lively spot it once was ten, even twenty, years ago. Yoyo, the lovable owner, was getting older, and his son, his successor, was a little more than a dunderhead, who was clearly sinking his father's business into the ground. Lin and Tenzin sat at their usual spot near the window, reserved for them every Friday first of the month. A once spontaneous adventure into familiar territory felt more like a chore to Lin these days. Yoyo had single handedly witnessed the entirety of their love story from start to finish; from their first date to now, whatever it was they did now. She was surprised Tenzin's better half still allowed these meetings.

Tenzin stuffed the last vegetable dumpling into his already full mouth, his eyes closing to savor the taste. And Lin sighed, turning her attention to the window. Two young men stood loitering near the entrance. Their faces told Lin they were up to no good, and, as expected, one suspicious green bag, not so subtly, slid into the other's hand. And off they went their separate ways. She was tired and off duty–it was neither the time or place to be the hardass Chief of Police–but she made a point to memorize their faces for future arrests.

"Nobody makes vegetable dumplings like you, Yoyo," said Tenzin. Lin turned back to see Yoyo clear their empty plates. "Best in the city."

"I am honored, councilman," said a prideful Yoyo.

Lin managed a soft smile before he hobbled his way back into the kitchen.

"I'll have to check with Pema, but it should be fine having him stay on the island after school and on the weekends," said Tenzin, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

"At least until this whole Equalist conflict is resolved," said Lin. "I don't feel comfortable with him being home alone, or at HQ."

"So, it's Amon, then, this cult leader?"

"What happened today tells me he's something more," said Lin.

"How's his bending?"

Liko was no fighter. He was good at moving rocks, but had very bad aim. She realized an hour or so in, it was because he did not want to hit her. He did better on the dummy, but there was still hesitancy in his bending. He didn't want to hurt anyone. "He could do with more training… but I won't force him to fight."

"Hmm," Tenzin said, stroking his beard. She recalled a time when he could barely grow whiskers on his face, a time when it was his chin he rubbed. "I or one of the members of the White Lotus can pick him up at school."

"I don't want to humiliate him, or give citizens a reason to panic. Not yet, anyway. He'll be fine taking the ferry."

She fell silent when she caught sight of Yoyo, slowly making his way back to their table with a plastic bag in his hand. "And one order of garlic noodles to go for my best customer. I threw in a steamed bun for him, just because I know how much he loves them. Free of charge." He placed the bag on the table as Lin pulled out her wallet to pay.

"You spoil him, Yoyo," said Lin.

"I've got this," offered Tenzin, but Lin was already handing him twenty yuans.

Yoyo bowed in thanks.

"Thank you," said Tenzin when Yoyo was out of earshot again.

Lin took the bag and stood. "I should head home before it gets cold."

"Um, Lin?" She paused, dreading his next words. "I thought he might join us this time."

"And I thought the Avatar was heading back to the South Pole. Things don't work out how we want them to sometimes." But she was being cruel, no matter how much she deserved it. "He… had a lot of homework."

"Please tell him I love him." She was at the door when he spoke.

And Lin nodded, opening the door.

About a year or so ago, Liko found a framed photograph of Tenzin in the bottom of a drawer–a discarded memory from a time when he still lived there–and now they play a game where they hide it for the other to find. Last week he stuck it on her bedroom ceiling, so when she looked up, Tenzin was there smiling down at her. She hid it in his book bag to find at school. Now it was shoved in their mailbox between an electric bill and a flier for Little Ba Sing Se Fashion Mall. She managed a laugh as she hid it in the bag of food and made her way up to the house with the mail in hand. The kitchen radio was blasting music and Liko was clapping his hands to the beat when she entered. The drills, again. Her ears had adapted to the sound, but it still wasn't pleasant. He turned the music down when he caught sight of her and, more importantly, the food.

"Hey," he greeted, grabbing the food and sitting at the table. "You-know-who called."

She paused to think who he might be referring to. "Who?"

" Your boyfriend ," he said in a teasing tone. He opened the bag and was immediately greeted by Tenzin's face. Liko's demeanor changed quickly. He placed the frame face down on the table before digging into his meal.

"Your father says he loves you." She tried to sound genuine, but the timing was too perfect. Somewhere deep down, though, she wished Tenzin had been the perfect father. She wished she had the perfect father growing up. Maybe perfect fathers didn't actually exist.

He made a gagging sound. "Not while I'm eating, please!"

Lin rolled her eyes as she went to the phone to check in at headquarters. Her alleged boyfriend had called. "Hey, Jiang–it's Beifong. Did Saikhan need me? Alright. Just tell him I'll follow up on it tomorrow." She hung up the phone. Liko was slurping down a mouthful of noodles–his eyes closed to savor the taste–when she reentered the kitchen.

"Can I change it?" asked Lin, looking at the radio.

Liko nodded and the knob turned with the wiggle of her finger. Shiro Shinobi's voice quickly replaced the gritty voice of Yowza Yaozu, the lead singer of The Drills. Liko had made sure to let Lin know everything about him.

"...Hold on, folks, we're just waiting for the referees' official call," said Shinobi clearly as Lin opened the upper cabinet to retrieve the magic green bottle that made all of her problems a little more manageable. She opened the cork and pulled out a clear glass. "I… think this replacement could be…" Liko turned his attention to the radio. She never listened fully to any game. Hell, she didn't even know who was even playing these days. Back in her day, the Deerhounds were all the rage. Now it was a group called the Wolfbats or something like that. She never had enough time to fully catch up; she would tune in just long enough to see who was playing and get the final score the next day in the newspaper. Mostly out of nostalgia, and perhaps maybe to fulfill some unresolved childhood wish to fight in a match. Liko, on the other hand, showed very little interest in the game. "There… there's no way." She took a sip from the bottle, feeling a familiar burn slide down her core, then poured a little into her glass. It had been a long week; it might be an even longer weekend. "You gotta be kidding me? She's the Avatar, Folks!"

Liko nearly choked on his noodles. "The Avatar?" he said with a mouthful of noodles.

"The Avatar," confirmed Lin, taking a long swig from the bottle. That man let that wrecking ball into her city.

And Liko burst out laughing.

Tenzin didn't tell her she joined probending, but, she needed to remind herself, it wasn't her problem. Not yet. Not until she's in another prison cell. She set her drink aside. "You're going to be spending more time on Air Temple Island," she said, changing the subject. She needed the distraction. Shinobi continued on in the background as the game continued.

Liko's face fell. "Because the Avatar joined probending?"

"No, because…" And she paused, thinking of that family. What a tragedy. "The Equalists are becoming more erratic and I need to know you're safe."

He huffed, shoving his noodles aside. "Does it have to be on the island?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes."

He made a fart noise with his mouth, then began tapping his finger anxiously on the table while thinking up an excuse. He always had excuses. Tonight, it was that he had homework. The month before he wasn't feeling well. "But Pema beats me," said Liko after a long moment.

She knew not to laugh, but the idea of Pema being physically violent toward anyone was absurd. "She does not." Pema was cordial toward him from what Lin understood. Mostly she kept her distance. If she was anything less, Tenzin would have long ago been declared a widow.

He paused again, stroking his chin in thought. And Tenzin flashed before her, just for a moment. Finally, his eyes brightened and he looked back at her. "What about Zaofu?"

"What about it?" she said, her blood boiling just at the thought of Su's little commune.

"I can stay there," he suggested.

"No." she said. Liko knew about the scars, but was unaware how much the wound still cut her. "Look, you're better off with Pema. Trust me."

He stood, abruptly, and made his way out of the kitchen. "This republic is sounding a lot like a dictatorship, if you ask me."

She rolled her eyes. She recalled a time when all he wanted to do was visit Air Temple Island. Not too long ago, even. "Don't be so dramatic. It's just after school and on the weekends," she called out.

He popped his head back into view. "As in this weekend?"

"You have plans, I take?"

"Well, no, not exactly," he said, his full body reappearing. "Okay, you know how Shiro Shinobi does his weekly countdown?"

Her brow rose. He spent far more time on the radio than her. "His what?"

"Every Saturday on music hour he ranks all the songs played that week," Liko explained. "And I… just want to listen to see if The Drills' new song makes it to the top ten this week."

"You can do that on the island," she told him gently.

He groaned, then made his way back to his food. "It's not the same," he said, pouting.

She downed the liquid in her glass, feeling the fire burning to her core and floating into her mind, and returned the bottle to its rightful place on the top shelf. "I'm going to bed," she said, placing the glass in the sink. "Lights out at ten, alright?"

He waved his response, his mouth full of noodles again. She switched the radio back to his music on her way out.

Lin bent her uniform off her body and into its rightful place in her closet. She needed a shower, but tiredness overwhelmed her. It had been a long week, an even longer day. Saikhan wanted to follow up on something pertaining to the Triad. Intel said they were plotting something big. All she really cared about, though, was eliminating the Equalists. Saikhan suspected they were connected somehow. But what would a non-bender terrorist group want with benders?

She fell into bed, feeling the alcohol ease her worries; too much of it made her have vivid nightmares, and Korra being part of a probending team caught her off guard. Maybe she had too much. Maybe she had just the right enough. She was too tired to know.

Her officers responded to a call that afternoon about a disturbance on the south side, the poorer part of the city. More crimes happened there–no one thought anything of it. But the family, all northern water tribe immigrants, all waterbenders, were pronounced dead upon their arrival. A gory scene, Saikhan documented. And spelled out in blood on their wall was the word, 'Equality.'

The culprit, a nonbender, was found in an alleyway a few blocks from the apartment with the bloodied knife still in her hands. People who knew the family said they were not vocal about their abilities. The husband worked at the water plant and the kids were often seen using their element while playing in the streets. The mother worked at the laundry. The killer was a neighbor of theirs, often seen attending Equalist rallies and putting up Equalist propaganda around the neighborhood. She babbled equality nonsense while being arrested, and then also while being questioned.

It made her sick to her stomach; it made her worry. The people who were killed were not trained fighters, they could barely mark a scratch on their killer. These Equalists were more dangerous than she had known. And she didn't want Liko caught up in it.

Sleep came quickly for her, as it did most nights, but she felt Amon's shadow looming over her. The alcohol consumed her; she had drank too much. And she could do nothing: not move, not bend. She felt like she was floating, but she could still touch her bed. She felt his touch. He whispered. He laughed. How dare he laugh. She moved her hand, but she could not bend. And he just laughed.

She could see blood–whose blood, she was none too sure. Perhaps that family's. But then she heard Liko, sounding so far away. He was singing, snapping his fingers to the sound of Yawza Yaozu's voice. But she was paralyzed. She could not warn him that behind him on the wall was the word 'Equality' written out in blood. Blood was on the floor; he was stepping in it as if it were a puddle. And Amon laughed; his shadow lingered in the distance. There was nothing she could do. She could not move; she could not bend. She opened her mouth to scream and–

Lin sat up quickly, her heart beating fast and sweat dripping down onto her sheets. It was daylight, morning. The sun was rising and birdbees chirped happily outside her window. Not a trace of Amon, or Liko.

She stood, quickly, happy she could still use her legs, and hurried into Liko's room across the hall. He was sound asleep with his head underneath his pillow and a leg dangling off the edge of his bunk bed. She waited until she could see his breathing, before closing his door and returning to her room.

She sat down on her bed and allowed her heart to settle. She did need a break, she knew, but the city never allowed such privileges. Really she needed to find this Amon and put him behind bars. She would follow up on Saikhan's lead today. But first a shower.

She stood and made her way into her bathroom. She removed her clothes without so much a glance in the mirror and entered the shower while the water was still cold–there was no time to waste. But she stopped suddenly, startled by the familiar face staring back at her. Tenzin was dangling on her shower head.

"Thank the spirits it's only you," she said quietly, laughing despite herself.