The sun was still new when Korra arrived at the Sato Estate. She had always been under the assumption that her driving abilities could not have been any worse, but apparently, she was mistaken. It seemed that being incredibly tired also inhibited her ability to properly steer and maneuver a motorized vehicle. As she barreled her way through the front gates of the mansion and swerved to a stop, she took a moment to look over herself and make sure that she was somewhat decent-looking. After the debacle with Jinora, she had come to the conclusion that her friend was only mostly correct. While it was entirely plausible to assume that Asami cared little about what she wore, she figured it would still be appropriate to dress fancier than normal. It was common courtesy, she figured, walking up to the large doors of the estate.
She knocked on the door thrice, and moments later a short, curious-looking woman answered.
"Yes?" asked the woman, dressed in formal attire.
"Hi," said Korra with a small wave. "I'm—"
"Oh, right. Please come in. Asami will be with you," said the servant. Korra nodded, and awkwardly stepped inside. Even after eight years, something still disturbed her about the notion of servants and butlers. It was a belief she held ever since she was a little girl being constantly guarded over and protected. All that time, she would have given anything just to be able to live. She could only imagine what it must have been like to live in servitude. It must have been a rather horrible way to live. Even though she was certain that Asami was a reasonable employer, the circumstances were probably still unpleasant. It further weirded her out that someone like Asami still bothered actually having servants. Korra liked to think that she knew Asami inside and out; for many years, she was closer to Asami than anyone else on the planet had ever been. Korra knew her quirks, her passions, her phobias, her favorite foods, her eyeshadow color and more off the top of her head. Yet, for the life of her, she could not understand why Asami would continue to treat people as, essentially, slaves.
Korra scoffed at her thoughts as she was led to a living room, and instructed to take a seat on a couch by the short, curious-looking woman. She shrugged the thought away by assuming that it was probably for the best that the servants were where they were. Otherwise, they would be out of work, and that would not benefit anyone. Or, maybe they were so enthralled by Asami's beauty and knowledge, they simply through themselves at the opportunity to serve her. Korra was fond of that last theory, and thought of it to be entirely reasonable.
She perked up upon hearing the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. A calming voice called out to her.
"Korra, you ready to go?"
"That depends," Korra said, hopping to her feet. "You want to tell me where we're headed?"
Asami walked around the corner, her eyes fixated on the floor. "You'll find out soon enough. But I want to—"
Asami looked up at Korra, and instantaneously, her wonderful smile faded away. With a perplexed expression, she eyed Korra up and down, and pursed her lips. "What are you wearing?"
Korra was confused. It wasn't until she examined Asami's clothes that she realized there was a clear miscommunication. Korra had assumed that her clothing had met the requirements of something "not that fancy". Sure, she was wearing a skirt (which she hated) and gold jewelry (which she borrowed from Pema, and also hated), but it wasn't anything she would be comfortable wearing to a five-star restaurant or wedding ceremony. However, much to Korra's surprise, Asami was wearing something remarkably less classy: sweatpants.
"What am I wearing?" Korra asked in rebuttal. "I think you need to look in the mirror."
"I told you not to wear anything fancy," Asami groaned. "You could have just worn what you usually wear."
"If you wanted me to wear that, you should have told me to wear something casual. There's a distinction between 'non-fancy' and 'casual'. When you say 'don't be fancy', it gives off the impression that I need to be formal, but not that formal. You really need to phrase instructions better."
"Great. Just great,' Asami muttered under her breath. "Now we're going to get a late start."
It was with remorse that Asami grabbed onto Korra's wrist and began strongly yanking her throughout her mansion, clutching her so tightly that her fingernails began to imprint themselves on her skin. Despite the Avatar's pleads for forgiveness for a crime she barely knew she committed, Asami continued to drag her in silence. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to Korra, Asami was running a tight schedule. It took many hours of precise mathematical calculating to formulate the ultimate romantic event, and Asami was not willing to take any risks. There was an appropriate time and place for randomness in love; this was not one of those times.
Soon, Korra found herself in Asami's bedroom, or at least the one she used most often. It was getting to be a familiar sight for her, as she had spent several long night snuggled up in the silk sheets of the lavish bed. She had also spent several early mornings there, but could not dwell on those thoughts long, as Asami quickly dragged her towards her closet. Opening the door, Asami hurriedly scrounged through her dozens of outfits, as Korra simply stood in the doorway and gazed in silent awe of the room in front of her.
"Do you need this many clothes?" Korra asked, half-jokingly. "I know you're rich, but your closet is bigger than my room."
"No time for observational humor," Asami said dryly. She shoved pants, a shirt, and some boots into Korra's arms, and then pushed her into the closet. "Change," she instructed, closing the door. Korra mused over the baggy, dull garments in her grasp, and rested her head against the door as she began to undress.
"You know, Asami," she said, questioningly. "You seem to be very intent on sucking all of the fun out of this date."
"I'm not sucking it out. The fun is just being… delayed. Now is work time. Hopefully, we can get on our way soon, and we can reach maximum levels of fun later. Nothing but fun, fun, fun."
"I'm sorry, but did I just detect sarcasm in your voice? Because it sounded an awful lot like there was sarcasm in your voice."
"Was there?" Asami asked, stunned. "I'm sorry. There wasn't supposed to be. I'm just getting a little annoyed, that's all."
"Annoyed?" Korra asked, suspiciously. "I've literally been here for two minutes, and all that's happened is that I've taken my clothes off in your bedroom. If you were anyone other than you, you would be ridiculously enthusiastic right now."
"Oh, believe me: I'm enthusiastic," Asami stated, this time intending as much sarcasm as possible. "I just… want to make sure everything goes like it's supposed to. There's a specific schedule we need to adhere to. I spent a long time thinking how to make this day perfect, and I don't want any of it to get screwed up."
Out of nowhere, Korra burst into a fit of giggles. Asami raised an eyebrow.
"What's so funny?"
"Déjà vu," Korra explained. "You sound exactly like I did roughly twelve hours ago."
"What were you doing twelve hours ago?"
"Freaking out over what clothes to wear," Korra admitted bashfully. "Seriously, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. The only reason I'm not dead now is because Jinora told me that you wouldn't care about whatever I chose to wore, as long as we got to spend time together." Korra paused for a moment, and snickered. "Actually, given how sore my wrist is, I'd say that she was pretty damn wrong."
Asami brushed off the subtle jab to her heart. "Speaking of which, are you dressed yet? I wasn't kidding about adhering to a schedule. We need all the daylight we can get."
"Yeah yeah, I'm coming," Korra playfully moaned. She emerged from the closet wearing the baggy clothes and an aloof smile on her face. She reminded Asami of a little girl playing dress-up, which was further accentuated by the fact that the clothes were meant for someone ten percent taller and twenty percent skinnier than her. However, for the trek that awaited them, it was absolutely perfect.
"Now that is something much more appropriate," Asami said, nodding in approval.
"I feel like I just rolled out of bed," Korra said, tugging at the dark sweatpants.
"You did just roll out of bed," Asami said knowingly. "You don't usually wake up until an hour from now. I've already packed up stuff in the car. Let's get moving."
"Hold up," Korra stopped her. She gave a smug grin, and held up the arm which Asami brutally tugged on. Rolling back her sleeve, she pointed to the red grip marks on her wrist. "Isn't there something you want to say first?"
Asami sighed. "I'm sorry about hurting your wrist in my schedule-induced frustration. And, I'm also sorry about that passably-sarcastic tone I had, and I'm sorry that I got upset at you. Also, most importantly, I'm sorry that I haven't been more open about our plans today. But, for what it's worth, I think you'll get a lot more enjoyment out of it being a surprise."
"That, I am fine with," Korra said proudly. The truth was that she understood Asami's impatience and secretiveness very well. She was certain that, whatever Asami's methods were, they had the best of intentions behind them. Being scolded by her girlfriend wasn't the best way to start the day, but it was still early in the morning. She knew something spectacular lied in store for her. She had waited weeks for this day; she wasn't going to let it slip by.
Coincidentally, as Asami led her out of her mansion and into the morning sun, Korra thought of another opportunity that she did not want to let slip by.
"Hey, baby," Korra said in the most innocent voice she could muster. "My wrist still really hurts. Do you think that… maybe… you could give it a kiss to make it all better?"
Asami laughed. "Oh, really? I think the Avatar should be able to tough out a little problem like that."
"But it weally stings," Korra pouted, her big, blue eyes wide and child-like. "You wouldn't want to be wude, wight? You want to make sure your Korra-worra is nice and happy?"
"You know, that technique for soliciting kisses gets a lot less adorable the older you get. How old are you again?"
Korra sighed dejectedly. "Ugh… twenty-five."
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Asami smirked. The pair arrived at Asami's car, and entered the front seats giggling uncontrollably from Korra's astounding performance.
"Face it though," Korra said, more seriously. "You still had an uncontrollable urge to kiss me right there, didn't you?"
"That's only because I always have an uncontrollable urge to kiss you," Asami stated wholeheartedly. "Don't worry: you'll get kisses later on. You'll just have to earn them."
"Well, with the lips of Asami Sato as incentive, I don't think there's anything I won't be able to do," Korra said confidently, resting her hands behind her head. Asami smirked at the compliment. It made her feel almost like a queen, having someone treat her in such a high regard. Of course, she felt the same about her lover as well; she simply didn't feel inclined to share that information at that very moment.
"So, are we about to start our road to maximum fun?" Korra asked expectantly.
"Oh, Korra," Asami teased, revving up the engine. "You don't even know the half of it."
Sy loved coffee. It was fair to say that Sy loved coffee more than anything or anyone on the planet. If she could, she would devote her entire life to the majestic substance. She would swear her allegiance to coffee; she would defend coffee until her death and fight many wars for coffee's honor. She held a deep, spiritual connection to her coffee, and had never gone a single day where she did not down at least one cup.
The coffee shop in which she sat was like a second home to her. She had gone there with Mako more times than she could remember, and today, she continued that tradition. Sitting in the small, well-lit corner of the shop, the pair sat in relative silence. This was immediately alarming to Mako, because silence was not something that Sy conceptually understood. What was also alarming was that Sy had never taken a single sip of her coffee. She merely held it in front of her with shaky hands, staring at the dark mixture within. Further, she was much paler than usual, and her trademark smile was seemingly absent. Heavy bags were under her eyes from several restless nights.
"Are you feeling well?" Mako asked, concerned. "You don't look so good."
"Oh no, I'm fine," Sy said quietly. "I'm just a bit distracted by… you know… watching someone get blown up in front of me."
"Yeah… I can imagine that can cause some problems," Mako said somberly.
"You should know. You saw it too."
"Everyone reacts differently. I'm on the force, so violence is commonplace. You're not used to seeing things so… graphic." Worriedly, Mako pressed forward. "How have you been managing to hold up?"
"I don't know," Sy shrugged. "I guess it depends on what you'd consider 'holding up' to be."
"Have you been eating? Sleeping? Staying positive?"
"Look at me, Mako," Sy moaned. "Do I look like I've been eating, sleeping, or staying positive?"
Mako did not respond. The morning sunlight reflected off of the sheen of Sy's white hair, illuminating her like a fallen angel. After a minute of silence, Sy spoke up.
"So, does that make two?"
"Two what?"
"Two times you've seen someone being mutilated right before your very eyes?" Sy asked morbidly. "You look like you're holding up pretty well this time. Maybe it's just one of those things that get easier to deal with the more you see it."
"Believe me, it isn't," Mako sighed.
"It sure looks that way, though," Sy explained. "I mean, the last time this happened, you were reduced to a quivering, pathetic mess… even more than usual."
Mako smirked. "I guess you're not as traumatized as I thought if you can still manage to insult me."
"I thought I was supposed to stay positive?"
"Negativity for you is staying positive."
"Oh wow, what a tremendous compliment," Sy joked dryly, barely managing to crack a smile. "Nothing lightens up a person's spirit like telling them that they are depressing to be around."
"Take it in stride. It hopefully means that you are recovering. Soon, you might actually want to drink coffee again."
"Yeah, I guess so," said Sy, staring longingly at the cup in her hands. She wanted nothing more than to swallow the cup's worth in a single gulp, to feel the delicious flavor swirl around her tongue and wash down her throat. Unfortunately, she was still not in the mood for indulging herself. The time would come soon enough.
"So, this stakeout of yours…" asked Sy. "You think you might have found the killer?"
"If my hunch is correct, then yes," Mako stated. "We've tracked down a restaurant he routinely visits. Chen and I are headed out tonight to scope the place out. If this guy tries to make a move, we'll be on him."
"Just, be careful okay," Sy said softly. "Don't get yourself run over by a car."
"Hey, I'll be alright," Mako said, placing his hand on top of Sy's. "Don't worry about me. I can handle pretty much anything this coward throws at me. And afterwards, if we manage to catch this guy, I'll be open to finally meeting your parents."
"Do you really mean that?" Sy asked, suddenly full of hope.
"Sincerely," said Mako. Sy smiled happily, and in victory, took a sip of her coffee. It tasted like jubilation.
"That will be absolutely perfect," said Sy merrily. "You'll celebrate stopping a murderer by getting murdered by my father. What a spectacular irony."
Note: Sorry about the long wait between chapters. Life has been keeping us busy. This will be the first of a three-part finale to what we consider the first major act of our story. As always, review if you can, and we'll be back with the second-part soon.