Published November 1, 2015
"Why Can't We Be Friends"
I don't think I'm ready to do this and I don't know why. Or rather, I do know why, but I can't look at it too closely right now or I know it will change everything. Everything.
Outside the door, Xander waits for me. It strikes me that this symbolizes what is wrong here. No one can ever really come in, and when it's time to let them in, we don't know how.
I take a deep breath and open the door.
~ Ally Condie, Matched
On the day of the match, Asami picks Korra up in the afternoon. The two of them go grocery shopping, which is routine for Korra but a novelty for Asami, who has eaten meals cooked by professional chefs her entire life. Mako actually prepared a list of groceries, as if he and Asami are a married couple. Korra directs Asami to the best stores and market stalls, and shows her how to compare prices and identify the items of best quality.
With a few hours left before the match, they are able to snag a parking spot just a couple blocks from the peninsula that holds the golden Pro-Bending Arena. Korra has passed by it and seen it from a distance plenty of times, and more recently she studied a blueprint of it in preparation for a future mission; but she has never been inside the beautiful building. It looks too fancy for such rough-and-tough, down-and-dirty activities as sports, let alone bending.
Bolin is waiting for them on the steps, and runs down to meet them. "Gooood evening ladies!" he says, grandly stretching out each word.
Korra manages a smile. "Hi, Bolin."
"Do you want help with those?"
"I'm fine," Korra says truthfully—she has handled much heavier burdens than this—but Asami hands him a bag, even though the help is unnecessary.
As he leads them into the building, Asami nudges her and whispers, "He was trying to be nice."
"Oh. Sorry."
Bolin leads them up into one of the towers in a corner of the building. It turns out to be a lot of stairs, which kind of explains the offer of help. While Bolin chatters about the Arena and the upcoming match, Korra wonders what her father would think if he knew she was visiting some boys' place—a bachelor pad, by definition. She decided not to mention it, hoping that he had forgotten about the invitation to see a match with these benders. He might have agreed to her witnessing the sport, just once, but going where these boys live is putting herself in a situation that would make a normal girl vulnerable. But, Korra reminds herself, she is not normal; she is an elite rebel, and this is an opportunity to spy on enemy territory. Besides, Asami would be visiting them here in any case, and she will be safer with Korra accompanying her.
Near the top of the tower, Bolin leads them up through an open hatch door in the floor of the apartment. The air up here smells like sweat, lacquered wood, and some kind of incense, freshly burned. Mako is standing in front of a sort of stove, one of the few pieces of furniture. Two ladders lead up to a sort of loft that wraps around the upper perimeter of the room. The walls seem to be almost entirely made of windows, showing the bay in the southwest, the city in the northeast, and the sky all around.
Mako smiles when he sees them come in. "Hey sweetie." His greeting is gentler than Bolin's, but also more genuine. Mako kisses Asami on the cheek and nods to Korra. "Thanks for bringing all this. I've got a menu all planned out—"
Something reddish-orange moves across the wood floor toward the girls. Bolin scoops it up and cradles it for them to see clearly. "Ladies, this is our mascot and beloved friend, Pabu. Pabu, these are our guests, Korra and Asami."
"Hello there!" Asami coos, petting the small animal's back.
"Hi." Korra glances at Bolin. "Can I hold him?"
"Sure!" Korra is glad to be able to interact with Pabu and distance herself a little from the others. Tonight, she wants to focus on anything besides the boys and their bending.
Mako glances between the girls and the little kitchen furniture that is available. "So, um, we don't have much work space, but we've got a stove, an oven, and a sink. I can set out a mat or something to put the food on."
Korra surveys the area and nods. "Okay, we can work with this."
She is glad for the first activity they do together. There is something about making, serving, and consuming food and beverages that alleviates awkwardness. Or maybe she is just glad to have something to focus on besides the people she should be talking to. It beats sitting awkwardly and struggling for conversation.
Cooking is something she can do without thinking too hard; her practiced hands know what to do. But in this new environment, she has to ask what tools and ingredients are available, and where they are kept. She argues with Mako, the only other person here who cooks regularly, about the best spices to use for komodo-chicken soup. Asami looks to them for instruction, having rarely, if ever, attempted to cook before. Bolin cuts the dough into funny shapes before wrapping them around the meat and vegetables. "Don't play with your food," Mako says, in a tone that could be either joking or scolding. They make much more food than they can eat for one meal, enough to have portions left over.
They eat on the floor, around a table that is actually just a wooden board set on cinder blocks and covered with a tablecloth that looks like it may have once been a curtain. Set on the table are mismatched plates and bowls, and a single lit candle on a saucer in the middle. "It's nothing fancy," Bolin admits, looking a little bashful.
"I think it's charming," Asami says.
"Yeah," Korra agrees, though to herself she thinks it looks like a child's attempt to set up a romantic dinner.
The sun sets while they eat, casting an orange glow on the city and through the windows. "Wow," Korra says when she turns around to look out the window situated behind her.
"I know," Bolin says. "Great view, huh?"
"This is almost like a tree house," Asami says, leaning back on one arm and looking at the open windows. "I had a friend at school who built one at her home in the Earth Kingdom. I guess this is the urban equivalent."
Pabu scurries from one diner to the next, begging for scraps of food.
"So, you excited for your first match?" Bolin asks Korra, sounding excited himself.
"Yeah, I guess."
"I made this chart to keep track of all the teams." Bolin takes a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolds it on the floor, displaying a diagram that looks like a family tree growing in two directions. Korra scoots over to get a better look as he points to the branches with teams' names. "There are two preliminary matches tonight. Red Sands Rabaroos versus the Pinnacle Palace Platypus Bears, and then the Black Quarry Boar-q-pines versus the Bau Ling Buzzard Wasps."
"What team do you root for?"
"Normally just the Fire Ferrets, but since we didn't make it, I root for the Boar-q-pines."
"So, how do you win a match?"
Mako explains, "The goal is to gain as much territory as possible in each round. Whoever wins the most out of three rounds wins the match. But if a team knocks all of their opponents off the back of the ring, then they win automatically, no matter which team was in the lead."
"Are there limitations for what they can do?"
"Water and fire blasts can only last one second at a time. Water- and earthbenders can only take their element from their own zone. No one can aim earth or fire at an opponent's head. Also no ice, fog, or lightning."
"Do people get hurt often?"
Asami and the boys exchange glances and shrugs. "Sometimes," Bolin says.
"Not often," Mako counters.
"At least, not seriously," Asami clarifies. Korra shifts her sight between them skeptically. "Okay, about as often as people get hurt in regular boxing, or mixed martial arts," Asami says finally. "It's intense, but it's not supposed to be brutal."
"Okay, I'll take your word for it, at least until I see it for myself."
"Trust me," Bolin says, "you'll be glad you came."
Asami gets up. "Come on, let's go get our seats."
She does not let the others hear the price of the tickets, but they must be pretty expensive, because when she distributes them Bolin takes one look and whistles. "Up front and center! Nice!"
"You didn't have to do that," Mako says, and for a moment Korra sympathizes with him. If it was awkward having a friend who was rich and could pay for everything, it must be harder to have a girlfriend like that. Not that a boy should always pay for dates, but taking turns or splitting costs would be more equal, and in Korra's worldview, equality is what makes positive symbiosis possible.
"Don't mention it," Asami says with her easy smile. He murmurs a thank-you as they go through the gate into their section. The rows of seats are dark, but there is light ahead of them, in the center. Their eyes adjust as they make their way to the front row, and Korra finds herself gaping as she gets a better look.
The Arena's interior is huge, rimmed by bleachers, windows with intricately patterned panes, and spotlights. The playing field, an elongated red and blue hexagon, rather small compared to the building that houses it, stands raised in the middle of an enormous pool of water. The light reflects off of the glass ceiling, making it too bright to see the night sky through it, though the architectural beauty is not lost.
Korra lets out a single, involuntary syllable: "Whoa."
"I know, right?" Bolin lowers his voice to whisper confidentially, "Though I still think our locker room had the best seats in the house." He points to the boxed-off room at one end of the rectangular building.
"This is more amazing than I imagined!" Korra surveys the rows and rows of spectators, wondering what it would be like to have so many people cheering for you, and imagining how that felt for Mako and Bolin, two orphans who had been treated as though they were worthless. She can understand, now, why they would choose to play this sport, despite everything she knows it to be—corrupt, aggrandized, sensationalized.
The radio broadcaster, Shiro Shinobi, makes the opening announcements over the building's amplification system. People across the United Republic can hear those words. It is dramatic, building up excitement, in a way almost comparable to the Revelation—but Korra abruptly decides not to think about that. This may be the only chance she has to ever see a sport that involves bending, so she resolves to simply drink it in.
The two teams come out on platforms that bring them from their respective locker rooms to the playing field. Finally, after the teams line up in position, the announcer says, "Round one!" a bell clangs, and the action begins.
Now Korra remembers why this sport once interested her. It looks as fascinating, and probably feels as exhilarating, as dancing or martial arts. It is, she supposes, technically a martial art. Strange that she never thought of bending as an art; to her it has always been just a weapon. There is power and strength in both their bodies and the elements that follow them.
When the first round is finished, she turns to the boys and asks, "Can you guys do all that?"
The brothers exchange glances, their only answers knowing smiles. Korra remembers the prohibitions Mako listed, and reasons that they can probably do a lot more than what she is seeing now.
Having gotten used to watching the whirring elements, she can now pay closer attention to who is gaining ground. She feels the suspense, and though she does not know which team to root for, she cringes when players get hurt, and boos when they make foul moves. It is hard to know who to cheer for, since they are sitting right along the line between the two teams' fans. The ones on their left cheer for the Rabaroos, while the ones on their right cheer for the Platypus Bears.
The Rabaroos win the second and third rounds, securing the match. Korra cheers along with their fans, choosing to favor the winners.
Bolin really lights up when the second match begins. "Here come the Boar-q-pines!" he says excitedly, touching Korra's arm with one hand and pointing with the other.
Now she is completely emotionally invested: she groans when they move back, and applauds when they move forward.
They each win one round, so a tie-breaker is called. Asami explains, "That means they flip a coin, and the winning team chooses what element will face off one-on-one."
The Buzzard Wasps win the coin toss, and choose fire. The two teams' firebenders step into the circle at the center of the hexagon, which then rises up as its own platform, severely limiting their space. Korra feels more on edge now than she has all evening. At such close proximity, with so little space in which to move, someone is bound to get burned. She briefly wonders how her three friends can stand this, remembering how their parents died; then the bell clangs, and both players are punching with fiery fists, ducking and dodging and kicking. Then they actually make direct physical contact, the Boar-q-pine trying to tackle the Buzzard Wasp. They grapple and spin doggedly and try to out-maneuver, and the Buzzard Wasp proves good on the defensive, pushing his opponent almost to the edge of the circle; but the Boar-q-pine kneels and brings the other down with him, flipping him off the platform, over the hexagon, and into the water with a splash almost as satisfying as Shinobi's proclamation:
"KNOCKOUT!"
"Whoo-hoo!" Korra is on her feet, along with her friends and most of the people around them. Bolin holds up his hands and double high-fives her, before bumping fists with Mako.
The commotion lasts several minutes, as people marvel at what just took place and speculate what will come next in the course of the championship tournament. While they wait for the aisles to clear out, Bolin turns again to Korra. "So, what'd you think?"
"What did I think?" Korra's voice comes out sounding higher than she intended. "That was amazing!"
Asami looks smug. "What did I tell you?"
"I've studied martial arts my whole life, but I've never seen bending like that—controlled and dynamic—it's like a whole different style." Then she voices a thought she had while imagining how Mako and Bolin must have looked in the ring. "Think you can show me a few tricks?" This might be pushing the unofficial limit, but she has already thought of an excuse: learning how pro-benders fight could prepare her in case she ever has to fight any.
"Absolutely!" Once they get into the hallway, Bolin grasps her hand and leads her against the stream of the crowd. Mako and Asami follow them through a side corridor to a threshold with double doors propped open. "This is where we work out," he says, gesturing for them to enter.
The gymnasium reminds Korra of the basement where she learned chi-blocking. There are balls, mats, nets, weights, and discs like the earthbenders used in the game. It is not like the clean gym at the Sato mansion, but somehow it feels more authentic, full of sweat and dirt, a place for the hard work that athletes both love and hate.
It is not empty: an elderly, muscular man is levitating some earthen and metal weights over to the side of the room. He casts an annoyed look at them. "What are you kids doing here?"
"It's okay, Toza," Bolin assures him. "They're with us. Is it okay if we use the gym?"
"Are you kidding? After I just cleaned up?"
"We'll put everything back, I promise."
"Ahg, fine." He leaves the room muttering, "Soon as I finish, it gets undone …"
"Don't mind Toza," Bolin says once the man is gone. "He's actually really cool. He used to be captain for the Boar-q-pines. Now he's the janitor."
Korra raises her eyebrows. "Talk about a demotion."
"I think he took the job to keep an eye on us," Mako says. "He was the one who set us up with the apartment, and helped us form our own team. He's a tough coach, but at least he got us in the ring."
"So, who taught you to bend?" Korra asks. "Before Toza, I mean."
Mako hesitates. "Well, um … a few different people."
"Did you have to take lessons? I know benders used to just train with masters, but there aren't many of those anymore."
Bolin scratches the back of his head, and he avoids eye contact with her for the first time since they met. "Not exactly. See … well, when we were homeless, some guys offered to teach us a little."
"That was nice of them," Asami says.
Mako shoots Bolin a look, but Korra cannot tell what is behind it. "What gives?" she asks.
"It wasn't exactly out of the kindness of their hearts," Mako says flatly.
"Meaning?"
"See … well … we used to know some guys in the Triple Threat Triad."
Both girls are taken aback, but Korra does not know whether to feel angry or smug. "You ran around with criminals?" This proves that her original suspicions about them, and about benders in general, were correct all along. Maybe she ought not feel so guilty about deceiving them.
But Mako responds, somewhat defensively, "You don't know what you're talking about. We just ran numbers for them and stuff."
"What does that mean?" Asami asks warily.
"They used to fix pro-bending matches, and we'd collect the money people bet."
"But that's all in the past?" Korra presses, seriously doubting it.
"That's right," Mako says evenly.
"Toza saved us," Bolin explains. "The Triple Threats were bribing him to throw off the matches, but I told him, he shouldn't have to throw lose if he didn't want to." Bolin looks to Mako. "That was the day we rescued Pabu, remember?"
"I remember you tried to rescue him, and I ended up saving you from Mr. Fong's pythonaconda."
"Yikes," Korra says.
"Yeah, well, it was worth it, wasn't it?"
Mako chuckles. "I guess. So anyway, Bolin convinced Toza to stop throwing fights. He won his next match, and he defended us when the Triple Threats found out what Bolin had done. Then he offered to set us up with a place to stay, and even help us go into pro-bending."
"So we stayed and we've been living here happily ever since. And we did have some time in the ring, which was fun while it lasted."
"I'm sure. Wish I could've seen it." She actually means it.
Bolin claps his brother's shoulder. "C'mon, let's show them."
"You just want to show off."
"They asked for a demo!"
Mako rolls his eyes but smiles, giving in. "Fine."
The girls move to the side as the brothers face each other in the center of the gym. Bolin bends several discs in a semicircle behind him, the way they would be in a match. Asami nudges Korra gently and says, "This'll be good."
Bolin imitates Shiro Shinobi's excited commentary. "The Bending Brothers are pitted against each other in the final face-off … and Mako makes the first move with a side punch! Bolin dodges, picks up some discs but Mako stays cool …"
Korra watches with the same fascination she felt during the match, only greater now that she is up close to the action. The boys often pant and occasionally smile; they clearly enjoy sparring, which reminds Korra of herself and Asami acting as partners. Bolin is light on his feet, waiting for the right moments to strike. When Mako cannot dodge a disc, he throws a fiery punch that breaks it into pieces.
Something aches inside Korra, like wistfulness, an unidentifiable longing, and she does not know if it is because of the boys themselves, or their bending. For the first time since she was little, she wishes she could do that.
She has not thought this way in a long time, but she used to try to bend, at moments when Noatak was not looking. She thought she remembered being able to manipulate the elements, but whenever she tried, she produced no result. Now, she can imagine—and quite vividly—the sensation of bending, but she has no idea if it really feels that way.
Bending may not be either boy's entire identity, but it is a significant part of who each of them is, and it hurts Korra to think that they are destined to lose that part of themselves.
This gloomy thought clouds her attention so that she almost misses the end: Bolin tackles Mako to the ground, but Mako manages to flip him over and push him away, adding more fire blasts to send him over the imaginary line. "And he's out, off the back of the ring!" Mako proclaims, finishing the commentary.
"You guys are amazing," Asami marvels.
Bolin shrugs proudly. "We do what we do."
Korra almost feels jealous—but not of bending, she thinks quickly, but of the attention, the recognition of their talent. She would like to be really good at something, to impress other people.
She goes up to one of the long-handled double weights that Toza just earthbent so easily, and squats to feel it. Heavy, but she has lifted heavier loads.
"Korra—" Mako starts to tell her off, but falls silent as she manages to lift it up to her waist, then slowly up to her chest, until, finally, she pushes it up above her height. She pulls her lips back in a triumphant grin, her teeth clenched.
Asami applauds, and Bolin whistles in appreciation. "Not bad," Mako says noncommittally.
Korra lowers the weight, and shifts her incredulous gaze from Mako the other two, who know him better than she does. "What's it take to impress this guy?"
"What? I said 'Not bad'."
Korra gives him a pouting look. He meets her gaze evenly, then shrugs and shakes his head with indifference. Korra turns to Bolin. "Here's a question: how much can you lift without bending?"
Bolin looks as though he has never thought of it before. "Huh. Only one way to find out." He spits on his hands, rubs them together, then grips the bar tightly, straining before he even begins to pull it upward.
Mako watches and says, "Don't hurt yourself," starting to smirk when Bolin grimaces, the bar just at his chest. It stays there for a moment, his hands and forearms trembling; then he manages a few inches higher, before jerking his arms up just above his head; then he lets it crash down to the floor.
"Not bad," Korra comments, echoing Mako.
Bolin looks at her, panting, arms akimbo. "You talk about bending like there's no effort involved. But there is. A lot."
She chuckles. "I'm sure."
They fill a bucket of water from a tap (meant to provide waterbenders with practice equipment) and splash the water onto their sweaty arms and faces. Inevitably, they end up splashing each other, first by accident and then with clear intent, until they are all wet and laughing. "Next time, you guys should come swimming at my house," Asami says.
Next time. Korra is afraid to think about whether there will be a next time. It sounds so improbable to her, and yet so tempting, if tonight is any indication of how it would go.
But how much might happen between this get-together and the next? She was lucky to get this particular evening off. And while Noatak might accept her excuse of watching Asami while visiting the boys' home, there would be no need for Korra to keep an eye on her.
This entire evening has been more fun than she has experienced in years. It even rivals her first Equalist mission. She feels just as alive now as she did that night. She wonders, now, when she was more free to be herself. In a mask she didn't have to worry about keeping up a facial expression or maintaining an identity. With these teenagers, she has to keep up a front, and yet their activities are so innocent, so creative and different, that being with them feels freeing in its own way. She does not know if it is the normalcy, or the companionship, or the activities, but whatever it is, she likes it.
When they go back up to the apartment, Asami suggests making more tea. Korra takes a seat on the sofa, and Pabu comes up to her, hoping for more petting. Korra interacts with him while her friends chat and brew the drinks. Mako and Asami bring theirs up to the loft, while Bolin carries two cups over to the table before the sofa. "Thanks," Korra says, accepting it and starting to drink.
"Hold on!" Bolin motions to her to stop; she dribbles a little on her chin, then wipes it off with the back of her hand. "Sorry, I just wanted to suggest a toast."
"To what?"
"To … our finding each other again." He holds out his cup, and Korra taps her own against it, and they take a swig at the same moment. The tea tastes bitter in her mouth; she does not know if it is the herbs or her own guilt.
Pabu leaps up onto the sofa, curling up in the space between the two humans. Korra is glad to be able to pet him and avoid Bolin's eyes.
Bolin puts his cup down and looks at her. "So, as much as I love this group thing, I was kind of hoping maybe next time, you and I could go out and do something, just the two of us. Sort of a—dating situation," he trails off suggestively, looking hopeful in a cool, nonchalant way. Korra does not know what to make of that look. But she does know what her answer has to be.
This has to stop. She has to draw a line. What Bolin is asking for is something exclusive, something intimate. Something she cannot give. Not to him. Not now. Perhaps not ever.
Because before that ever becomes a feasible possibility, she will have to betray him. Bolin is going to lose his bending, and she is going to help, at least indirectly, to make that happen. She feels a sudden, painful sensation, like a spasm, remembering the way his face lit up in the gym. He is going to lose that joy, or rather, the thing that brought him joy at that moment.
But there are other things that can make him happy. Like his brother, and his pet fire ferret. Bolin is so sweet, some girl is bound to fall for him. And he has Mako to make sure he finds a girl that deserves him. Unlike Korra.
She is not very good at words—those are her father's weapon, not hers—so she thinks very carefully before responding, trying to be gentle. "Bolin, I don't want to hurt your feelings. You're a great guy, but … I just don't have room in my life for … that kind of relationship."
"Oh." Bolin lowers his gaze. "Okay." There is an awkward pause before he ventures, "Still friends, though, right?"
Their eyes meet, and Bolin still looks hopeful, in spite of the distance Korra is putting between them. Against her better judgment, she smiles and says what she wants to say: "Sure."
"Good! 'Cause you're—quite honestly—the funnest girl I know."
Korra blushes a little, and curses herself for it, even as she smiles shyly back at him. Pabu curls against her thigh, and she is spared from talking much by petting him.
Mako and Asami come down from the loft. "Korra? You want to bring home some of the food?" Mako offers.
"Sure." She gets up and follows him to the kitchen area. Asami stays with Bolin by the couch; she must have turned down the leftovers, probably because she knows the others need the food more than she does.
As they divide the food and clean up the kitchen supplies, Mako speaks quietly to Korra. "For what it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing."
"You do?" Korra blinks in surprise, and then furrows her brow at him. "Why?"
"Bolin's been really excited over you. If you don't feel the same way, then you're right not to get his hopes up."
"Um … thanks … I guess." Mako may mean to make her feel better—and in fact, hearing that Bolin likes her makes her feel flattered—but she also feels bad, knowing how disappointed he must be.
Bolin gets up to say goodbye to the girls, but he opts to stay up in the apartment while Mako walks them back down. Korra gives Bolin a quick hug, the best apology she can manage. "Take care of yourself," she says, the closest thing to a warning she can give him.
"Yeah, thanks. You too." He manages a small smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and then turns away before they have left the room.
Mako walks the girls down to the front doors. "Thanks again for coming."
"Thank you for having us," Asami says warmly. Then she glances at Korra.
"Yeah, it's been a real pleasure." She cannot make those words sound genuine. Asami saves her by distracting Mako with a kiss and a promise to see him again soon. He waves goodbye before going back inside.
At the bottom of the steps, Korra turns back to look at the Arena. It is even more beautiful at night, illuminated by electric lights, glowing green and gold against the navy night sky and sea. The sight makes her stomach ache as well as her heart; or maybe she had too much to eat before.
What will happen to the Arena when bending is no longer allowed, or even possible? Maybe it would house more rallies like the Revelation. It is certainly equipped to serve Amon's theatrical style.
Asami touches her shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"Of course." Why is her voice choked? She clears her throat. "This was a lot of fun."
"Yeah, I thought so too." Asami continues to look concerned as they walk back to the car. "What happened with Bolin?"
"Nothing happened. And nothing is going to happen."
"What went wrong? I thought you guys were getting along."
"We were. Bolin's sweet, and I like him, but …" Korra tries to think of a good excuse that would not suggest any intention to see him again. "He's not my type."
Asami shoots her a skeptical, teasing glance. "You have a type?"
"… I don't know." Korra doesn't have enough experience to judge how much she likes him, or how much she should like him at this point. What if he is her "type" (whatever that means)? What if she does like him the way he likes her, only she is not giving herself the chance to find out?
When did she get so soft with those boys? She knew from the start that they were supposed to be rivals. When she first agreed to meet them, she thought of it as going undercover among enemies. That was what she considered them, until she got to know them. Her own perspective changed, but Amon's goals are the same as they have always been. She was stupid to think that she could be friends with people on both sides of the war that is about to start.
That is what this will be: a war. Hopefully a war without bloodshed, making it markedly different from all the other wars in history. But war of any kind requires sacrifices, some of them involuntary. It might be painful, but if it is for the greater good …
Asami's voice pulls Korra out of her melancholy thoughts. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Do you prefer being on your own?"
Korra looks at her, surprised and not entirely understanding. Seeing her confusion, Asami elaborates. "It's just—when we were little, I stopped other kids from gossiping about you. I never judged you because you were home-schooled and didn't seem to have any friends. But you do seem kind of … solitary."
"It's not like a choice I make, if that's what you mean. I'm not antisocial. That's just … how things work out, most of the time." She is independent, for sure, but not a loner. Not lonely. Is she? She has never thought very introspectively about herself. "I do like hanging out with you. I didn't realize it, but I missed this."
"Well, now that I'm done with school, I'm free pretty much any time. So if you want to hang out, just the two of us, I'd be glad to."
"I'd like that." An idea occurs to her when they reach the parked Satomobile. "Could you teach me how to drive? My dad says there's no need, since we don't have a car, but I'd still like to know how." She can already drive a motorcycle and the tram in the underground tunnels, but she has not had a reason or opportunity to drive an ordinary car.
Asami brightens up at this. "Sure! We can use the Future Industries test track. Why didn't I think of that?" she muses. Korra can tell she succeeded in getting her excited; there is nothing quite like sharing your passion with someone. She learned that when her father finally shared his life's work with her. She is glad that she can still invest in this friendship without regret … except for keeping the secret of her Equalist activity. After tonight, she can almost understand why Hiroshi has not told Asami about the movement: she would not understand it, and would probably misjudge them for being part of it.
Korra resolves that next time she sees Asami, she will talk to her about Equalism. Of course she cannot admit to being part of the movement, but she can try to help her friend prepare for the way things are going to change.
Artwork: "Suspicion" by Jackie-lyn on DeviantArt
Music: "Why Can't We Be Friends," originally recorded by War, though I prefer the cover from Bridge to Terabithia (2007)
Between these updates, I discovered and watched Abducted: The Carlina White Story, based on the real life of a woman who was kidnapped as a baby, raised by her kidnapper, and later tracked down her parents on her own. I don't know whether pulpofiction knew of this when he/she wrote "dream of the lotus in bloom," but it is rather similar to both of our stories!