Hello everyone! Sorry this is so so so so so so so late. Life has been incredibly busy! But here it is, the last chapter of the Korrasami Week fic for this past month's Korrasami Week. But this is not the end! Look for more updates in November during Korrasami month! If you want more information on that, check out the korrasami-month tumblr page.
I would like to say a big thank-you to everyone who has taken the time to read this story. I appreciate each and every one of you and I can't wait to see where this story goes.
Much love, AutyRose.
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Prompt 8: Airport
It was silent. It had been silent for a long time. It morphed to an eerie sense of normalcy. The engine hummed in the background. The sun was shining. Cars zoomed around them, consumed by their own lives. It was warm. There was a gentle breeze. It was absolutely beautiful.
But today… today was not absolutely beautiful; it was anything but.
She pressed her foot on the brake as they approached a red light. The car came to a halt. It thrummed, waiting to move again.
The air smelled fresh. The windows were cracked.
Asami released the pedal once the signal switched. She drove down a road she had taken before. This, though, had been during a much happier time, when they were talking in excited tones about her trip to the Fire Nation and how much they would miss each other.
While the latter was still true, the former was not. She was not the one going on the trip, and neither of them was excited about it.
The car was silent. She made another turn. Left down tenth, just as before.
She stole glances at the woman beside her. It wasn't hard for her to notice the difference in her skin; it looked pale despite its tan color.
Korra stared straight ahead of her. She didn't move. Didn't say anything. Didn't peek at Asami as she had done to her.
Naga was in the back seat. Her head was not out of the window. Instead, she was trying to hop into the front seat to sit with Korra, unable to do so from her size. After many failed efforts and no acknowledgement from her companion, she plopped into the rear and gazed at the door, uninterested in the passing cars that she was once so eager to chase.
Asami returned her focus to the road. They hit another red light. She dropped her eyes and stared at her hands, the fingers loose but the palms firm against the wheel. She looked back over at Korra. There hadn't been any change. The green signal stole her attention. She accelerated, each mile feeling like ten. Her hands started to shake again. The tears were threatening to breach once more. She was surprised she had any left in her.
She glanced at Korra before switching back to the street. "You don't have to do this," she choked out, her voice dry and rough from the sleepless night.
Korra said nothing. She didn't move an inch. Asami was convinced that she didn't even blink.
"You don't have to do this," she repeated, a bit more strength in her voice.
And a bit more desperation.
"I can turn the car around. We don't have to go to the airport."
Korra said nothing. She didn't move an inch.
"We can leave the United Republic of Nations. We can go to the Southern Water Tribe. We can be safe again."
Korra said nothing. But she did move. This motion, though, was a shake of her head and a drop of her eyes. She stared at her hands in her lap, unmoving and unwavering in her emptiness. Her ears were still ringing in the silence, perhaps creating the silence. The sound of her mother's sobs echoed in the back of her mind. The tone of disappointment in the voices of the staff at the Republic City Veterinary Hospital created a consistent hum in the back of her neck. She had called both this morning. The Hospital was first. She had to reject their offer. She was going to war. Her mother was next. She had to relay the news. She was going to war.
She was going to war. She was going to war. She was going to war.
It repeated in her head. She was going to war.
Had she not expected this?
She was going to war.
Is this not what she signed up for?
She was going to war.
What did she think ROTC with the United Forces in Republic City meant?
She was going to war.
She was ripped from everything she had been doing, as if nothing else mattered.
Because nothing else did. She was going to war.
A warm palm gripped her left and gave it a squeeze. Asami was never warmer than her.
And Asami made note of this, for she knew this to be true. And as terrified as she was, her tumult of emotions could not compare to the void inside of her girlfriend's chest.
Korra was going to war.
Asami would have to watch her leave.
Korra was going to war.
Asami would have to survive without her.
Korra was going to war.
Asami would be losing her girlfriend, her best friend.
Korra was going to war.
She bit back her tears. She had to be strong – for Korra's sake.
Because Korra was going to war.
It repeated in her head. She clamped down on her tongue and tightened her hold on Korra's hand, putting all of her effort into focusing on the road ahead of her.
Korra was going to war.
But what she was afraid of the most was Korra not coming back.
She made a sharp right to this. They were ten blocks away. Too close. Too soon.
Korra's sergeant had assured them that she would just be doing patrol in the Fire Nation. Korra would be safe. She wouldn't be on the frontlines. Asami had no reason to worry about Korra's safety or her life.
She had been to the Fire Nation. She had observed the military forces and protection at the border. She had seen the soldiers at the Academy.
And some of them had seen her.
One of them had met the fate of her fist from an unwanted advance. That was another thing that worried her; Korra would be surrounded by people she didn't know or trust. What if they hurt her? What if she got herself into trouble? What if they killed her?
It was a thought she threw away in the wee hours of the morning, when the sunlight breached the horizon and threatened them with the start of their last day.
But the feeling was there. And it didn't matter what scenario she thought of; she would be worried for Korra no matter what.
Korra was going to war.
Two blocks. They had only two blocks left. The silence ensued. Their hands never departed. Korra never made a sound or moved a muscle, not until Asami brought the car to a halt.
They separated. Asami shifted the gears into park and shut off the engine.
The quietness was deafening now. Neither of them had realized the comfort the thrum of the engine had brought.
They sat still, gazing with empty stares at different things. Their targets didn't matter, though; the emotion was all the same.
The sound of an incoming flight forced them from their solitude. The air became jagged as it touched down, black and sleek in its design.
They remained motionless until the engines hissed off in the background.
Asami reached over and took Korra's hand again. She hated herself for the words that left her mouth. "Your flight is going to leave soon."
Korra nodded, but didn't move the rest of her body.
Asami squeezed her palm and departed. She stared at the wheel for a moment before removing her keys from the ignition. The jingle hardly reached her ears. She unbuckled and pushed her door open, the rush of warm air entering the vehicle doing little to warm the growing chill inside.
She circled first to the trunk. She popped it open and retrieved Korra's United Forces Issued army bag. She hauled it over her shoulder.
Next, she approached the rear passenger side door. She yanked on the handle and took hold of Naga's leash, urging her outside onto the pavement.
Last was Korra's door.
Korra sat inside, staring at her hands.
She was going to war.
The sound of the door creaking open alerted her, but she didn't move.
"Korra, sweetie."
The voice was gentle. It came from the woman she loved. The woman she was forced to leave behind.
She was going to war.
"Korra."
A hand followed, soft against her cheek.
Korra didn't move. She couldn't. She didn't want to. But she had to.
She was going to war.
A kiss on her other cheek. Fingers through her hair. Those tearful green eyes that she wanted to avoid for the rest of her life.
But she knew this was only the beginning of the tears. Asami would suffer. There was nothing she could do about it.
She was going to war.
A call for arrivals at Gate 2B echoed into the parking lot of the airport over the PA system. Asami glanced over her shoulder. Twenty-five minutes. That's all they had left.
Korra inhaled. The air brought her nothing that she could feel. The ribbons of her uniform caught her peripheral. There were too many of them. She didn't like it. She didn't want it. She hated it. But the void was too much. It consumed her.
She was going to war.
She blinked. It was slow. It felt as if it were the first time she had done so since the unexpected news. Her eyes were dry. The skin underneath was shaded with bags of sleep deprivation. She was far from slumber that night. Far from slumber for many nights to come.
She was going to war.
Another ring. Twenty minutes. She had to go.
Korra pushed herself out of the car after unbuckling. Her eyes were glued to the cement. It was as gray as the uniform that she wanted to shed.
The sound of the door slamming behind her did nothing. She was motionless. Distant.
She was going to war.
Korra walked beside Asami without thought or motive. Their pace was slow. They dreaded every step.
1A. 1B. 1C.
The sounds of people surrounded them, their white noise doing nothing to bring them comfort as the engine unintentionally had.
1F. 1G. 1H.
Another ping. Fifteen minutes.
A man cut in front of them. They didn't notice. A woman nearly spilled her coffee at their feet. They didn't notice.
Asami adjusted her grip on Korra's bag strap. Her arms shook.
2A.
She took a breath.
2B.
And there he was, Korra's sergeant, waiting for her. Two other recruits were in line, getting cleared for boarding.
Asami stopped short.
Korra did the same.
It was happening; it was really happening.
Korra was going to war.
She turned around and faced her girlfriend, those oceans void of the spark they usually carried. Asami set the bag down and dropped her eyes to Korra's feet. She traced up her body one last time. She brought her trembling hands up to one of Korra's loose buttons and fiddled with it, trying to get it closed. She failed time and time again, tears getting closer to breaching with each attempt. When she managed to get the button clasped, a pair of tan hands covered hers. She glanced up.
Korra brought Asami's hands up from her abdomen and into her chest, clasping them against her heart. She closed her eyes and took a breath. She muttered a word for the first time in hours.
"Asami."
The tears fell; Asami was helpless to stop them. She freed herself from Korra's loose grip by sliding her arms back behind Korra's neck. She pulled her into a tight embrace. She didn't want to let her go.
"Korra," she heaved.
Korra was going to war.
Emotion overwhelmed her. It came rushing back in a devastating blow. She grabbed onto Asami, pulled her as close to her as she could. Her hands were firm across her back. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"I don't want to go," she whispered, unable to speak above a hushed tone from her cracking vocal chords.
"I don't want you to go, either," Asami whimpered back. Her head felt light. The world was slipping away. Korra was slipping away.
Korra was going to war.
They cried in each other's arms. Another ding. Five minutes.
To this, they departed.
Naga rubbed against Korra's legs, whining and pawing at her boots.
Korra crouched down and buried her fingers into Naga's scruff. The tears continued to roll. "You – you're a good girl, Naga." She looked into her dog's eyes. The crying worsened. "I – I have to go away for a while. I don't know – I don't know when I'll be back. Asami is going to take care of – of you until – until I'm – I'm back, okay? You, you be a good girl for her, okay, N – Naga?"
Naga barked and whimpered and licked Korra's face.
Korra wrapped her arms around Naga and held her close, wetting her fur with her tears. "I'm going to miss you. Be – be good, okay?"
Naga whined.
They departed. Korra looked deep into her eyes. "I'll – I'll be back. I promise." She petted her dog one last time on the head before rising to Asami.
They embraced. They buried their faces in the other's neck, their fingers burrowed into the other's hair.
Ding. Two minutes.
"Asami," Korra muttered, fighting desperately for breath.
They separated. Blues met greens.
Korra put her hands on either side of Asami's face. She closed the gap. They kissed.
Once.
Twice.
Ding. Final boarding. Their time was up.
They locked eyes once more. "Will – you wait for me," Korra choked out.
Asami nodded, a fresh stream of tears cascading over Korra's fingers. "Will you come back to me?"
Korra nodded, a fresh stream of tears cascading onto Asami's arms.
They kissed one final time, a deep, passionate locking of the lips.
When they departed, their foreheads touched.
"I love you," Korra whispered.
"I love you, too."
"Korra," the sergeant approached them, a palm on Korra's shoulder.
Korra closed her eyes and breathed. She took a step away from Asami and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. She picked her bag up off of the ground and slung it over her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Korra," he spoke softly with a squeeze.
Korra dropped her gaze and trudged over to the gate with the sergeant. He handed the attendant her ticket. She glanced over her shoulder one last time at Asami and Naga before boarding the plane.
Once Korra was out of sight, Naga started whining and tugging at the leash.
Asami kept a firm hand on it. The sound of the bridge detaching was rigid and rough. It made her heart skip a beat. The pace increased with each passing second.
This was it. Korra was going to war.
She walked with an absent mind to the floor-to-ceiling window nearby. She glanced at the large jet as it prepared for launch.
Naga stood beside her, pawing and barking and jumping at the glass.
Passersby stared as they went on their way.
Asami watched the jet back out of its spot near the gate. She noticed a small figure in the very last seat. She squinted. She could just barely make out a tan hand against the glass.
It was Korra's.
She put her pale palm against the window, fresh tears escaping her. She stayed this way as the jet rounded the take-off zone. She stayed this way as the jet accelerated across the ground. She stayed this way until the jet was in the air. She stayed this way for several minutes after the jet was out of sight.
Her legs grew weak. Her knees shook. She collapsed and cried against the window.
Korra was gone to war.
Naga rubbed against her and shared in her pain.
Korra was gone to war.
Their heartache was communal, but not with the people who glanced their way as they passed; it was with the woman on the plane, whose palm was still against the glass.
She felt a prick in her jacket that she wasn't used to. She took her hand away to inspect the inside. Korra pulled a small piece of paper from the inner pocket of her coat.
It was a four-by-six. It was a picture. It was their picture, their first picture together in the mountains outside of Republic City. There were flowers in Asami's hair that Korra had handpicked and hand woven into a braid. The sun was setting on their skin. Their smiles were wide. Their eyes held excitement. She held it up to look at it closer. There was writing on the back.
To Korra, my best friend.
I wanted you to have this while I was away; I know it's your favorite picture of us together.
I'll be back from the Fire Nation soon, in just one semester. Be strong. We'll keep in touch.
Love, Asami.
This was from a frame in Korra's apartment. Asami must have slipped it in her uniform pocket before she had gotten dressed.
There was another inscription on the bottom. A new one.
To Korra, the love of my life, my best friend.
Be safe. Be strong. Keep in touch if you can.
Use this to keep your faith.
And come back to me. I love you, I love you so much.
Keep this close to your heart, just as you'll be close to mine.
Love Always, Asami.
Korra's hands were shaking. She held the photo against her chest.
She was going to war.
She was going to war.
She was going to war.
Korra curled into herself and wept as the jet made its way to the Fire Nation.