Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.
Pairing(s): Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra, one-sided Bolin/Korra
Genre: Romance/Friendship/Drama
Word Count: (Hell, if I know.)
Rating: PG-13/T
Summary: The life and love of running, autumn, and high school cross-country. — Tahno/Korra, Mako/Korra. AU.

Author's Notes: 1/14/13. For those of you who don't know, I grew up in a small town in Upstate New York and I now live near Boston. Most of the backdrop for this story has been hugely inspired by these climates, this scenery, and my own personal high school experiences with running cross-country. For this particular chapter, I highly encourage you to look up pictures of the famous glens located in the Finger Lakes. I went there all the time as a little girl, and my memories of walking through the gorges in the fall are always very, very vivid. I've also traveled extensively through Tierra del Fuego (most notably Ushuaia and Calafate), and have spent a great deal of time studying in Argentina and Peru. If you hadn't known that before, well... now you do. ;)

Musical Inspiration: "It's Time" by Imagine Dragons and "Ho Hey" by The Lumineers. (And maybe "SECRET TUNNEL.")

Beta'd by the lovely ebonyquill, as always. Such beautiful insight, gah.

3.85

"Why do I feel like I should be waiting for someone to just pop out at any moment and clock me?"

"Relax, new girl. Nobody's going to recognize you. Besides, we're not even out of the woods yet."

This was not the first time Korra had run along the perimeter of the park walls, but taking that first step outside the western archway was still something of a thrill for Korra. And by thrill, of course, Korra privately admitted that it was actually something more like crap—what the hell am I doing? Outside of the inter-city park, it was all woods; if not for the beige brick wall steadily growing smaller and smaller behind her, she may never have even realized that she was currently on her way into enemy territory.

"Look, I told you," he sighed. "Nobody's outside right now in the first place, so relax your fists already. You're just making it harder on yourself to stay balanced."

"I'm not nervous," she claimed.

"I never said you were," he smirked at her. She still didn't like the knowing look in his eyes.

"It's so big," she observed in between breaths, staring up at the towering trees and blinking away the drops of rain. Most of the leaves were gone, but the height and thickness of the trunks were still impressive. "I didn't realize how much of it there really is."

"A lot of people never fully realize how deep it goes." Korra looked at him, intrigued by the tone she heard in his voice. "Do you run through here every day?"

Then they jumped, sailing through the air over a fallen tree trunk, and the soles of their feet landed softly in a blanket of soft, wet leaves. It was hard to explain, the feeling of breathing in the crisp air, feeling the chill of raindrops pelt her skin as she pushed herself forward, the impossible burn in her muscles against the cold and the wet, and the wind whipping at her hair—and with Tahno beside her—she could hear their steps moving in tandem, their breaths matching in the steady rhythm of the rain, with their arms swinging at their sides, and it was like—it was almost like they were—

—flying.

Instead of fighting it, Korra let her smile spread wide, feeling the rain against her teeth, in her eyes, in her hair and—Tahno must have been feeling the same way, because—she could hear the sharp breath of laughter beside her, the cool wisp of air curling in the cold.

He looked at her and she looked at him, and he said, "Every day I can."

"Let's take the scenic route."

"Um. Excuse me? I thought the point was to get out of the rain. And isn't this the scenic route?"

"Don't be such a stick in the mud. It's right here."

"Don't be—don't be—well, look who's talking Mr. ugh-if-your-peasant-ways-get-me-sick-ugh-then-I'm- going-to-use-my-big-head-of-hair-to—"

"Here."

"Oh," she said, coming to a quick stop behind him, but not quick enough; she rammed herself right into his shoulder. "You weren't kidding."

When he looked back at her, with his amused brow in full quirk, her scowl was ready for him. "Watch your step."

"Yeah, whatever," she mumbled, watching her step as Tahno lifted back a stray branch and led the way down a muddy path. The gentle slope carried them down, down, down, growing steeper with each footfall, until Korra had to hold onto the skinny trunks of sapling trees and sturdy rocks to maneuver her way down. As she came closer to the thick row of pines, she could hear a river flowing, and when she opened her mouth to ask Tahno where they were going, he slipped through the line of trees and disappeared from sight. Frowning, she followed and—

"Whoah."

"Careful, new girl," he smiled slowly. "You're gonna catch one too many raindrops with your mouth hanging open like that."

It was magnificent.

With just a mere few steps, she too was through the thick underbrush, and found herself on the stone walkway carved into one side of a long, gaping canyon. She could see that the gorge extended as far as a mile, but she was sure that it must have continued on even farther. Along the path in the woods, everything had seemed gray and brown but fresh, and here—here—it was like she had entered some foreign world where everything was lush and damp and thriving.

"Come on," he said, gesturing with a tilt of his head to follow. So she did, wordlessly.

They carefully made their way over the slippery limestone beneath their feet, climbing up flights of manmade stairs composed of large boulders and sheets of shale stacked over one another along the cliff-face. Eventually, they would come to a bridge or two, mortared with the large stones of the riverbed, and they would stop to look down—up, around, everywhere—to take it all in. The soft rustling of leaves bathed in the rain, the steady churn of the river below... Korra had seen it all before, and yet... Nothing really compares.

Does it?

Through dark, cavernous pathways and spiraling, chiseled tunnels, up and down they went, passing by natural sculptures of rock and earth under the lush canopy of the trees towering from the cliffs overhead. At every turn, half-hidden behind every crag, the trickling of water greeted them, either in wide, shallow pools or in steady, flowing drips from the trails above. Waterfalls cascaded over the rocks in all shapes and sizes, and the deeper they went, the larger they became.

"I never knew this was here," Korra said quietly, as they slowly approached another tunnel. Although it wasn't very easy to see before, she could now see from where they were walking that the pathway up ahead didn't end; it merely curved and disappeared behind the wide arc of water flowing over the jut of rock above, leading to the tunnel that she now knew was there.

Tahno climbed the steps beside her and laughed. "Where did you think we got our name from? We're not White Falls for nothing."

"Yeah, I can see that," she mutters dryly, peeved that he was ruining the moment. "It's just—I don't know. I mean, I'd thought the park was a different patch of scenery, but this..."

This was like being invited into a private world, tucked away in the secret heart of isolation, far away from cities or civilization. Even with the hand-placed stones at her feet, she could imagine that she was one of the first mortals to visit this place, one of the first souls to blaze its trails.

"Was this—I mean, did someone—"

"The pathway is manmade, but the gorge is natural," he answered, almost as if reading her mind. "The mouth is about a mile and a half down the way we came, just a little farther from where we entered, and leads to the lake," he pointed. "The other side, this way, opens to the state park, where people set up camp. It's also where we'll find the main road."

"State park? As in... a toll? Do people have to pay admission for this?"

He sent her a sly look. "Those who enter through the entrance do."

"Tahno, did we just like—break in to some sort of waterfall sanctuary or something?"

"Consider it a resident's privilege," he said with a careless shrug. Korra frowned at him, but the feeling didn't last.

She opened her mouth to ask another question, something about the layering of sedimentary rock—oh, if her father could hear her now—but she wasn't watching as carefully as she should have been, and—for all of her natural grace—she slipped. Luckily, for all of Tahno's natural talent as a runner, his hand-eye coordination wasn't half-bad.

"Careful," he warned, holding tightly onto the smaller hand in his grasp. As she stood, he supported her at the elbow, and didn't let go until she was fully upright. "You'd be surprised at how many sprained ankles and broken bones this glen has claimed."

"Yeah, and then maybe I wouldn't," she laughed, blinking into the spray of the breathtaking cascade almost upon them. When they finally made it under the steady stream of water, Korra literally felt the breath leave her lungs. The whole word was suddenly layered with shades of blue and white; she could feel the cold air nipping at her rain-soaked skin, but she didn't care.

"I can't believe you live here," she said quietly. "If I practically had a gorge in my backyard, I'd never leave."

He shot her a strange, questioning look. "You had to have seen plenty of things like this where you grew up, and I'm sure they were much better than this little crack in the ground. I'm surprised this even fazes you."

And to be honest, so was she.

But how to compare the feeling of standing at the precipice of the Perito Moreno glacier and feeling so small—knowing that its sheer size was beyond comprehension to the human eye—to standing here under the steady stream of this little river, with the waterfall thundering loudly in her ears, and feeling the coolness and dampness of the fresh autumn air. In all her travels with her father, over mountains and oceans and through the sky, she'd always felt so small, like she was still just a little girl—who needed her father, who needed someone, who needed to keep looking for her purpose—but here... here, she felt like she was hidden from the world, safe from the pressures of the day, and alone.

That is... she thought with a quick glance to the side.

If she wanted to be.

She turned to him and shrugged, feeling her lips quirk upward as she shook her head. Forget it, she thought. There's just no explaining it.

He smiled then, laughing out a little of his disbelief, before nodding at the space behind her, back in the direction from which they'd come. They made their way back into the open air, began their return trek to the main trail, and left the falls behind.

Tahno lived in a small apartment in a large complex. It looked nice enough on the outside, made with brick and dark window shutters with empty, symmetrical terra-cotta flower pots on either side of the door, and inside was old and creaky; it left Korra with the distinct impression that perhaps it had been built—and had become a home—centuries before she'd even existed. After spending the last month or so in the three-story luxury of Tenzin's old Victorian-style home, she had to admit that this—although still worlds away—was at least somewhat closer to what she'd been used to while she and her father's traveling party drifted from base to base across the Land of Fire.

But then she thought of her first ever 2-person 4-season tent—the one she'd gotten for her thirteenth birthday, and had used on every trip ever since—with the reflective door trim and a canopy of mesh walls, manufactured in optic white. It even had a snowflap the color of the midnight sky: a deep, inky blue.

She'd brought it with her, of course. It was still folded and rolled up in the single bag of luggage tucked under her bed, untouched and forgotten as it collected dust in its zippered prison. A pang tore through her heart at the thought.

When she'd packed and stowed it away all those weeks ago, Korra hadn't truly expected it remain there. She hadn't believed that there would actually be a chance that she'd stay.

She hadn't thought herself capable of forgetting.

Narook was rather gruff, but warm and friendly enough, and—to Korra's immense surprise—had actually lived in Alaska for a while. They talked dog breeding and general weather misconceptions made by those who'd never lived near the poles—which was, of course, essentially everybody, Korra complained while Narook merely laughed—and he made her a warm cup of tea while she towel-dried her hair in the kitchenette. Narook never mentioned exactly what his relation to Tahno was, and Korra never asked.

They had plenty to talk about while Tahno went to take a 'quick' shower, so Korra let the star runner leave her temporarily alone with minimal grief—Mr. Ugh-peasant-my-hair-does-not-protect-me-from-the-e lements-ugh-I-cannot-brave-the-cold-for-too-long-u gh—if only to distract herself, of course, from the fact that Tahno was indeed down the hall taking a shower. Clearing her throat, Korra listened to the sounds of running water, both inside and out, and tried to enjoy her tea in relative peace.

But soon enough, Narook had to leave for work at the bar he ran down at the marina, and Korra was inevitably left with her thoughts.

"No pneumonia for you, then?" she teased, when he came out only a few minutes later in a considerably drier shirt—black—and a pair of sweatpants—gray. Seriously, did this guy own any other colors? And no half hour-long routine to style his hair? Wow, looks like the diva actually meant 'quick,' then, she thought with a snicker, taking a sip from her tea as he made his way down the narrow hall.

But she felt herself waver when it seemed to lack its usual bite.

Whatever, Korra thought to herself, brusquely. Though... I wonder if he actually does take super long in the mornings and if he's just skipping the gel now for my benefit. But then... would that mean that he's actually trying to be conscientious of my time? He doesn't seem like the courteous type. Or maybe he just doesn't care enough? But Tahno is always such a ham when it comes to presentation—he reminds me of one of those little old ladies who never leaves their homes without their rouge and pearls—unless he doesn't consider me worth the trouble? Or maybe—ugh, whatever, stop thinking about his hair and however he thinks of you and—gah! Just shutup, Korra, shut up.

She was fine. Really. She was seriously okay, and honestly, aside from the random internal diatribe from nowhere, Korra was actually rather comfortable sitting cross-legged at his small table in the kitchenette, holding onto her tea with both hands. His hair was still a little damp, but his skin was flushed with warmth and—to Korra's utter dismay—soon hers was, too.

Shit.

"I still think you should take one," he eyed her seriously. "Savage wild woman or not, no one is immune to hypothermia."

"Relax, pretty boy," she leaned back into the wooden chair, kicking her feet onto the next seat and feigning all of the typical nonchalance that was now suddenly eluding her. "I'm already mostly dry, anyway."

"Thought you might say that." Korra's hand instinctively flew into the air, catching the bundles of fabric he'd thrown her way.

"What's this?"

"Bathroom's right down the hall," he informed her absently, head already poking through the cabinets. "If you're not going to be reasonable about a warm shower, then you should at least be reasonable about a dry set of clothes."

"Ha," she barked, holding up the bundles to inspect the gray t-shirt in her lap. Surprise. "Well, that shows how much you know about me."

Regardless, she took the shirt and shorts, and went to the bathroom to change.

Inside it smelled clean and masculine, and Korra had to restrain herself from peeking in the shower to see what kind of soap he used. Halfway through peeling off her shirt, Korra caught her reflection in the mirror—wet and chilled with eyes wide—and realized that she was in Tahno's bathroom, changing into his clothes. She knew enough about this society now to know that this sort of thing didn't just happen, at least not without meaning something; the only problem was that she still didn't entirely know what it meant. At least, not for a guy like Tahno.

And a girl like her.

She wrang out her damp t-shirt over the sink, sighing as she watched the water droplets disappear down the drain. Korra tried to imagine herself telling Bolin about what she'd been up to—or worse, Mako—but couldn't. Running in the rain when she was supposed to be resting, soaking herself to the bone in near-winter weather, all right before what was supposed to be the biggest meet of the season? It sounded stupid and reckless even to her ears. Combine that with the additional mess of ending up at the rival's apartment, in his bathroom, wearing nothing but his shorts and a sports bra, and there was a Korra-shaped mess of Korra-sized proportions.

She wasn't kidding about being mostly dry, but it still felt nice to have a touch of warm fabric against her skin. When she looked down, the clothes were inevitably a little big, but nowhere outside the range of what she'd usually be caught wearing, if not a little on the loose side. Korra considered taking her hair down to let it dry more fully, but instead settled on rearranging the bangs and stray strands behind her ears as best she could. When she found herself playing with her cheeks, watching her reflection as she pinched and pulled at the skin at the corners of her lips, it occurred to her that she was stalling; with a gusty sigh, she grabbed the mound of wet clothes from the counter, and opened the door.

Only to immediately close herself back inside.

"What the hell am I doing?" she muttered, gently letting her weight fall back against the door. Korra felt a jump in her chest at the sound of metal clanking from far off down the hall, just at the same moment that she decided, hell, if I'm going to play rebel, I may as well go all out, right?

Carefully, she tucked her chin under and covertly nestled her nose into the collar of his t-shirt, inhaling deeply.

Her hideout was blown by the buzzing of a cellphone from her—his—pocket mere moments later.

From: Uncle T
Where are you? If your dinner gets any colder, my very pregnant wife is going to have a fit.
Received: Thursday, Oct 18 6:27pm

"My uncle is going to have a hernia if I don't get home soon," she laughed as she bounded into the kitchen, all but gliding across the hardwood; his floors were very slippery and, thankfully, her socks were very old and worn. Small victories. He looked up at her from where he sat at the table, eating a bowl of something she didn't recognize—but then again, she was trying really, very hard not to notice much of anything about him.

"That is a very serious condition," he drawled. Tahno looked only mildly surprised at the abruptness of her return, but he was watching her very intently, which nearly made Korra lose her train of thought.

She cleared her throat and took up the seat adjacent from his at the small table, one that appeared to be meant for no more than two. "It is. I'm going to have to find a way back to greener pastures before it gets too late, or my aunt will kill him, which means that he'll kill me. Any idea when the rain will stop?"

"Please," he rolled his eyes, pausing only to take another spoonful of his meal—soup?—into his mouth. "Did you think I'd drag you all the way here to have you run six miles back through the rain? Shut up, I'm driving you home."

Korra's eyes blinked, then narrowed. "Ever the hero, all right," she muttered dryly. And what was he eating? It looked like tomato paste filled with small, ugly noodles. Rings?

"I thought so, too," he smirked. "Which reminds me: I know you've probably got dinner at your house, but there's Spaghetti-Os on the stove if you want some."

"There's what now?"

Tahno stared at her blankly. "Spaghetti-Os," he repeated, voice flat. "You know, like—Spaghetti-Os? You don't—oh, come on, everyone knows Spaghetti-Os."

"Dude, you're looking at a girl who spent most of her life enjoying common delicacies like alpaca," she smiled, thoroughly enjoying the bafflement spreading over his features. That's a good look for him, she privately sniggered, right before—ahh, Korra, shut up, shut up, shut up!

"You're seriously telling me that you've never had this great American staple?"

"Um. No?"

"You're not telling me that you've never had this great American staple?"

"No, I have not had it; yes, I am telling you."

"That's it," he stood, quickly turning toward the stove. "You're eating a bowl, or I'm not driving you anywhere."

"I beg your pardon?" she blinked, still wondering how he'd moved so quickly and—when did he get a ladle in his hand?

"Take it," he thrust a bowl toward her, complete with metal tablespoon. "Take it or get out of my house."

"Fine. Jeez, pushy," she sniped, grabbing the bowl from his hands. "Ugh, it looks terrible. Like, really, really cheap terrible."

"This is my childhood you're insulting, so proceed with caution."

"Yeah, cause I don't know what that feels like," she said pointedly, dipping her spoon into the bowl a little more harshly than necessary. He must not have had much to say to that because he was quiet as she took her first careful slurp from her spoon. Blech. It really was just tomato paste with cheap noodles. This is supposed to be popular? This is even weirder than peanut butter.

"So?"

Korra swallowed, trying to hold back her grimace; for all her play, she really didn't want to be completely rude. "I have a question."

"Shoot," he said simply, taking another bite of his own Spaghetti-Os, apparently satisfied with her verdict.

"Have you ever egged my uncle's car?"

And just like that, Tahno nearly choked on his little ugly noodles.

"Have I ever—what?" he asked in between lung-tearing coughs.

"My uncle, Coach Tenzin of the Fire Foxes," she said casually, leaning her elbows farther onto the table. "Rumor has it that the Wolverines are known for occasionally showing a bit of poor sportsmanship."

"Is that the cause of the near-hernia, then?" he asked roughly, eyes watering as he took a stand and retrieved a glass from the cupboards. He looked over his shoulder at her as he filled it with water from the tap. "Because you're here?"

Korra's brows drew together. She didn't like that answer. "I haven't texted him back just yet," she replied slowly, suspiciously. "I just got his message a minute ago."

"Because you're waiting to see if I'm the egger?"

No, Korra thought, a tad defensively. "Well, are you?"

"Please," he scoffed, then spun himself to lean against the counter of the sink, staring her down, eyes hard. "Those pranks are beneath me."

"Says the one who climbs trees in his spare time."

His glared sharpened, but Korra merely leaned further back in her seat and kicked her feet up. "You wanna try picturing me sneaking through the nicest residential district this far of Northside with a dozen eggs in my hands?"

"You mean that's not how you get your hair to stay like that?"

"I am not amused, new girl."

"Seriously, Tahno," Korra sighed. He didn't budge. "Someone had to have done it. I mean, it's not even like it happened recently, right? Why is this such a hard question?"

"What makes you think it was my team? Your faithful captain clue you in?"

"I—what?"

"Oh, yeah," he laughed bitterly, grinding his teeth. "Big Brother Mako and I go way back."

"You—how do you—"

"Not important," he cut her off, crossing his arms, his half-full glass still in hand. "The point is I don't appreciate Fire Fox trash running their mouths about shit they know nothing about."

"But why would Mako say that if it weren't—"

"True? Oh, it's true, all right; I know it was them."

"What?" Korra exclaimed, leaning forward over the table to glare up at him. "But you just said—"

"It was nothing but a bunch of stupid, arrogant wannabe J.V. recruits who wanted to live up to their predecessors' glory," he shrugged. "They're animals, but they'll wizen up long before they ever make it to the next level, if they even make it that far. What do you expect me to do about it?"

Korra simply looked at him. Awe. Disbelief. Disappointment. "You're their captain."

"But not their mother," he said with finality, biting his cheek. "Can't take care of every stupid stray kid out there that doesn't know when to quit." His eyes dropped to the water in his glass and he stood there, chewing his tongue. Korra desperately wanted to say something, but hell if she knew where to begin. "You better text your uncle," he said suddenly.

"I'm going to," she replied immediately. The only problem was... was she going to need to ask for a ride?

There was silence then, uncomfortable and thick and full of space, and Korra felt a terrible sinking in her gut at the realization that this was a completely new sensation for them. As she swallowed, Korra distantly heard the churning of the pipes from some other nearby apartment, and all of a sudden, she wanted nothing more than to double-over and clutch her knees to her forehead. She didn't want to feel this way around Tahno.

Crap, she thought, staring into her cooling bowl of noodles. I've screwed it all up. Again. Surprise.

"So... the coach is your uncle?"

"Yes," she said firmly, heavy with challenge and bite and I dare you. Korra slowly lifted her gaze. "Is there a problem with that?"

Tahno gave a single shrug a single shake of his head. "Just surprised is all," he paused, taking a sip of water. "I thought someone living with a personal trainer might actually be, you know... good."

They stared at one another, neither willing to break away.

But it was Korra who cracked first.

Fighting her smile—and losing terribly—Korra reached out her bowl. "Just shut up and give me more noodles."

To: Uncle T
Hey, sorry, I'm at a friend's! Just shove it in the microwave until I get back. And don't worry, I've got a ride! I'll be home soon.
Sent: Thursday, Oct 18 6:39pm

"You're a terrible guest."

"You're a terrible host."

"I've provided you with food, shelter, and warm, dry clothes, so as far as I'm concerned, I am exceeding all expectations."

"Except for your hospitality."

"My charm is an acquired taste."

"Like these noodles."

"Not to mention the non-stop arguing, accusing me of false crimes, and now insulting the host's food," he tutted. "My god, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you and your manners were raised in the wild."

"Clever," she said dully, flinging a noodle ring his way.

"Cute," he intoned, wiping it away from his cheek with a dry stare—oh yeah, real mature—but then he smirked down at her half-empty bowl. "But even still, nobody can resist Spaghetti-Os."

"Whatever," she laughed, taking another bite; yeah, they were growing on her, so sue her. "If anybody from my team saw me eating these, they'd kill me. Do you know that we're supposed to be following this really strict food plan this week in honor of Saturday's meet? Jeez. And I thought you were insane." She remembered that very afternoon—an outstanding oration, a sparkling cheerleader, and group huddle gone mob. "This race is making everyone crazy."

Tahno laughed, but Korra couldn't quite find the humor. "Welcome to high school cross-country? And for the record: what you put into your body a few days before a meet is important, but it isn't nearly so important as what you put into it the rest of the year. I used to eat Spaghetti-Os all the time as a kid, and now I always have them a few days before a big race. It's just a thing."

"Like a good luck charm?"

"I don't need luck."

Korra bit down her smile. "So Spaghetti-Os are your guilty pleasure?" she asked, voice heavy with implication.

"Actually, I think they're turning out to be yours," he smirked, eyebrows waggling pointedly as she took another bite. She scowled, but still scooped up another.

"We're going to have to keep this a secret, you know."

Tahno's expression slipped. "What?"

"My Spaghetti-Os," she said simply, taking another mouthful. "Imagine the scandal they'd stir."

Slowly, another easy smile spread across Tahno's face. He shrugged. "Yeah, I'll keep your Spaghetti-Os scandal a secret... for a price, of course."

"I knew there was a limit to your charitable hosting. What do you want? Our team's top-secret work out routines? A better hairstyle?" Tahno actually outright laughed, and Korra's spoon halted halfway to its destination, distracted. Had he always laughed this much?

"Please. As if the Fire Freaks could have anything of value to offer me."

"Hey!"

"You know what? Never mind, you have nothing I want," he laughed, and Korra valiantly tried to ignore the way that settled so wrongly in her stomach. "I'll just keep you in my debt. I kind of prefer that, anyway."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" she tried to throw back, but it sounded more bitter than she'd intended.

"Of course," Korra heard him say. She was too busy staring into the last few rings of her soup, however, so there was no way of knowing exactly how Tahno's eyes watched her, or how they trailed over her fingers, her arms, her jaw, her cheeks, her shoulders—his shirt.

"And, I mean... I usually have a way of getting what I want."

From: Uncle T
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Received: Thursday, Oct 18 6:50pm

"Do you remember a few weeks ago when you asked me why I run cross-country?"

"Not particularly."

She sent him a look, but Tahno—at least pretending to be the responsible driver—kept his eyes on the road. "Come on, man. It was right after I jumped out of the bush and scared the hair gel out of you. You asked me why I even bothered at all?"

"Nope. Doesn't ring a bell." She huffed, falling back against the seat. It was warm in the car, and it smelled nice, no matter how old he said the thing was, and Korra liked to watch the raindrops dance across the windows; but none of that really mattered at the moment.

Because he had to be lying.

"Whatever, don't own up to it, fine. I just... I was just wondering why you do."

"Do what?"

"Run cross-country."

"Why do I run cross-country?"

"Yeah," she tried to clarify, feeling more stupid with each passing moment. "I mean... I guess most people would chalk it up to the limelight and your ego, but—"

"My what?"

"But something tells me it's more than that."

"More personal, you mean?"

"Not exactly, but... well. Well, yeah. Maybe."

"Sorry, new girl, but you're barking up the wrong tree."

"So... you're not all about using cross-country to get in with the crowd, then?" she teased. At first she thought he wasn't going to answer her.

"It's more about the opposite, actually," he said quietly. "More about... getting out." Korra let that sink in for a moment.

Ugh, stupid girl, will you ever learn?

Just when she was about to change the topic, just when she decided that she really needed to do a better job of not prying, he started again, dissatisfied.

"But it's... I don't know, it's more than that. I run because I want to see how far I can go, how fast, how much I can push myself. Yeah, I tend to enjoy the spotlight more than most, and I know how to use it better than even more than that, but I've also learned that if people are too busy watching one aspect of your life, it's easy for them to miss the rest. You know, nobody really cares about you, star runner, and all that jazz; they just want the numbers, the times, the records. And it's not just about running to beat other runners... Cross-country is about racing against yourself. Against everything holding you back. Shame, doubt, guilt; your real opponents are in your mind. I race to prove it to myself."

To prove myself, she heard.

"So it's all in your head then?" Korra asked lightly, teasingly, because she didn't know how else to respond. She felt like she'd just heard something incredibly private. "You know how that makes you sound, right?"

"No more crazy than what normally comes out of your mouth, savage girl," he spit back, but not with malice.

"As if," she laughed. "So that's it? You race for yourself because there's nobody else out on that course that's good enough for you?"

"Sounds about right, yeah."

"You're such a dick."

"Whoah, look at you now, fancy vocabulary. Which dirty mouth did you pick up that word from?"

"Hey, I had a TV sometimes. I grew up in the Andes, not in a nunnery, okay?"

"Good," he smirked, bearing left onto the highway exit that would lead her home. "It'd have been a shame."

"Like you would know anything about nuns," she muttered, shooting him a dirty look. But otherwise she bit her tongue, mostly because she didn't know what to say. Was she supposed to be flattered or annoyed? She sort of felt a little of both.

"Seriously, though," Tahno asked evenly, eyes concentrating on the asphalt ahead, but she could sense his curiosity. His disbelief. Awe, maybe? Korra wasn't sure what it was that gave him away, but she could tell. "After all the places you've been... why come here?"

Korra knew full well the question he'd really meant to ask; she just didn't know if she could answer it. "Well... my family is here," she began carefully, weighing her words. Korra saw the crease in his brow as she glanced to the side, proof that he knew she was holding back, just as well as she knew that he was trying not to. She just didn't know why.

Silence often speaks volumes, Korra, she'd heard her mother say time and time again. She'd thought she'd known what her mother had meant, even as socially stunted and as awkward as she'd been—as she was—but now Korra was really starting to wonder. For all the minutes that she and Tahno spent arguing, they often spent twice as much time in silence, didn't they? She was only just now beginning to notice.

"Makes sense, I guess," he said quietly, easing a right onto the back roads, while the ticking from the turn signal counted the empty, overflowing seconds for too long.

She already knew plenty more about him than he knew about her, Korra realized, thinking of his home and his goals and the dirty dishes sitting in his sink. But that's how she'd wanted it—and not just for him, but for everybody—for everyone in this small town, in that big school, in this tiny patch of world that these people called home, none of them were ever supposed to know. She was never supposed to have been here, not long enough for them to find out.

She wasn't supposed to belong here.

And what she wanted and what she thought she wanted was changing, which Korra hated, which scared her, but maybe... maybe—it won't be so bad? Maybe she'd want this to change, too? I know it isn't fair, but...

"I didn't want to come," she blurted suddenly, before she could think twice about it. "I never wanted to be here."

Tahno sighed. "Don't blame you," he replied quietly, shifting the gears. Korra could hear the soft hums and groans of the car's engine responding in kind. She waited, and it didn't take her long to realize that he was going to leave it at that. He wasn't going to pry; if she wanted him to see the missing pieces of the puzzle, then she was going to have to hand them over.

She almost preferred their usual games.

"I'd really like to do what they do," she sighed, letting the words flow out aimlessly. "You know, what I've always been doing, out in the open, tracking and sampling and studying wildlife... but they have the degrees to back all the scholarly articles up, and I don't. Not yet, anyway. So they shipped me off to my uncle's to prepare me for college."

"Couldn't they have just home-schooled you? I mean, if you're going into the same field, who better to teach you what you need to know than the experts?"

Ah, Korra thought blankly. And that's the kicker, isn't it?

"My parents thought it would be a good idea for me to try out a... typical educational experience." Korra watched him bite his cheek and felt his broken laugh shake her all the way down to her core.

"A typical experience, huh?" he scoffed lightly under his breath. "Well, what you got here in this ho-dunk town is just about as typical as you can get, I guess," he conceded; his voice was nonchalant, but somehow this only made Korra feel worse. Was this conversation really doing either of them any good? Probably not.

Then why couldn't she stop?

"It wasn't purely for academic reasons," she sighed again, sinking into the headrest. "In the end, I guess I kind of pushed them to do it. I... had a habit of butting heads with important people. With lots of people in general, too," she added as an afterthought. "But especially with those I shouldn't have been butting heads with in the first place. I don't know. I guess they thought I could use some... practice. In being a part of civilization, or something."

He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "So now you're here."

But the way he said it... what did he mean? It was almost like—

Korra looked up.

Oh.

Well, she was, wasn't she?

"Should I be concerned that you're still so familiar with where my uncle lives?" she teased, half-smiling.

"As long as the eggs don't go on sale, I think you'll be fine." Korra laughed again, looking through rain-spattered windows up onto the gentle rise of a hill where Tenzin's house stood. It looked beautiful and pristine, even in the midst of all this gray. She wondered what Tahno thought of it all.

"Hey," she said softly, pausing until he turned to face her. "Thanks for the ride."

"Well, you know, chauffeuring is life's Plan B, so."

Korra rolled her eyes, but smiled. She absently wondered why she wasn't making any real moves to get out of the car. "I mean it though. And the run, too. I know it's not true to our typical weekend fashion, and that you're probably all geared for Saturday's meet, but... Yeah," she laughed, feeling even more foolish. "Thanks."

"Butter me up all you like, but you're going to need more than just a bit of gratitude to escape the debt you owe me for keeping your guilty pleasures a secret, you know." He smirked, leaving Korra wanting to punch his stupid face all over again.

"You're a real sleaze, you know that?"

"And yet, somehow you're still here."

Korra swallowed, looking down. She knew he'd only meant it the way he usually did—as a joke, an insult, whatever, it was all the same, it was consistent—but Korra still felt a little too uneasy for her own good. It was time to get out of there.

"I can fix that," she snarked, tearing open the handle with a devious smirk curling her lips. The plastic bag with her wet clothes rustled comfortingly in her other palm as she stepped out onto the road, minding the puddles with her already-soaked sneakers. "See you around, pretty boy."

"Wait," he called out, leaning across the passenger seat to hold her gaze through the open window. She'd been one breath away from jumping across the small ditch onto the gentle bank that would lead her up the front lawn, but the sound of his voice had sent a jolt straight through her. Careful not to fall backwards or trip or do anything embarrassingly clumsy, Korra slowly glanced back toward him.

"Yes?" she asked, smiling through her dramatic sigh.

"I can't meet you at the park after the meet on Saturday."

Korra blinked. What?

"What?"

"It's a—" Tahno grimaced, biting his cheek. "It's a stupid team tradition we have, after all our big home meets. Parties and newspaper reporters and... stuff, so I'm gonna be busy all day." He looked up at her, still leaning across the passenger seat; she was still standing in the rain. "I just wanted to let you know."

"Oh," she said, fighting to keep her face blank. Oh. "All right. That's... fine, I guess. Yeah. Yeah, okay, I'll just see you at the meet, then." Ugh, stop rambling, just get out of here already before you make even more of a fool out of yourself.

"Wait!" he called out again, and this time, Korra almost didn't turn back around. Against her better judgment, she faced him.

"Yes?"

"I said I'll be busy all day," he smirked up at her. "My night is not yet spoken for."

Something warm bubbled inside her. Korra licked her lips to hide her smile. "I'll think about it," she hedged, letting her own smirk match his.

"Don't think too carefully," he warned. "There are very few options for how to spend a Saturday night in this town."

The way he'd said it—so playfully, so suggestively—it was Tahno to the T in every category: arrogance, lewdness, and just a touch of condescension. Only... if Korra didn't know any better, she would have sworn that there was actually a hint of worry in his eyes.

But that would have been ridiculous.

"For the record," she leaned closer to the open window, smiling back down at him in the passenger's seat. "This place hasn't been nearly as terrible as I thought it'd be."

And before he had a chance to delay her again, she hopped onto the bank and she climbed up the gentle slope of the front yard, not even chancing a parting smirk over her shoulder.

As he slowly pulled away, she didn't bother to hide her smile.

"I didn't realize you were fostering friendships with the Wolverines' captain."

This was what greeted her at the door.

Korra peeled off her wet sneakers and socks in the vestibule, immediately feeling the frosty bite of the autumn air against her raw skin. "I didn't exactly know either," she muttered airily, bending over to grab a piece of old newspaper from the stack by the door. She tore off a few strips and crunched them inside of her shoes. No way they'll dry in time. Practice is going to suck tomorrow, no matter how short the pre-meet session is. "It just sort of happened, okay?" she threw out defensively, peering up at him. "And what's the big deal, anyway? Don't tell me you're going to get all high school team-rivalry on me, too, just because you're the coach."

"It's not so much the rivalry that concerns me," he deeply intoned, standing over her as she fruitlessly stuffed her shoes. What's that supposed to...? But that's as far as it went. "Does your team know about this?"

"What do they have to do with anything?" Korra asked, adjusting her wet shirt as she stood. Tenzin glanced down, quirked a calculating eyebrow, and that's when she remembered that the shirt she was wearing wasn't exactly hers. Oops.

"I'm just thinking of the conversation we had last week on the way to the restaurant," he eyed her with his concerned-uncle-gaze. "About trust. Have you even considered telling them?"

"You mean telling Mako?" Korra scoffed, ignoring the slimy trail of guilt slithering its way into her stomach. Ugh, he's right. But gahh, I mean, what am I supposed to do? What's the big deal? They're only going to make into something it's not.

But then again, it's not like she even really knew what it was either.

"He's my team captain," she defended. "Not my mother."

Tenzin rose a brow, apparently surprised by her choice of words. Yeah, well, honestly, so am I, man, so am I. Korra blinked, trying to rid herself of the feeling that her voice had suddenly sounded an awful lot like Tahno's. Or was that really mine?

"He's your teammate and, more importantly, trying to be your friend," Tenzin reminded her—and just like that, all the guilt came clawing back toward her belly. "How much you choose to share with your team is always your choice, but there's only so much I can say about trust before you start having to learn the hard way."

They shared a look then, each of them already knowing the other's thoughts, already knowing that there wasn't much more to say. Korra looked up at her uncle, feeling all of the weight of the day and the strain seep into her tired, cold bones like the wet into old wooden grain, and nodded.

She swallowed hard, and opened her mouth to say something, but he was already ushering her toward the stairs.

"Come on, better get your shower in before Pema sees you and actually has a fit. Dinner's wrapped and waiting in the oven, whenever you're ready."

Korra trudged up the stairs, slowly, noting that she'd already begun to lose feeling in her legs.

End Note: Man, this one took a long time. We are steadily approaching Race Day (the chapter after next: 4.0), and things are really starting to pick up. This took quite the effort to write, not only for the content, but also for going back through and reformatting all of the paragraphs that were totally lost in the uploading process to the FFNET document manager. D: (Curse you, FFNET... second time that has happened.)

Please do me a huge favor and leave some love! This took a lot of work, and there's plenty more to come.

And thank you so much to all of my regular reviewers. Your words mean so much more to me than you could ever know.