Two Months Later

"I hate it."

Sy closely studied her reflection in the mirror. Since the bandages had come off, all she could do was stare breathlessly at her own timid reflection, as if it were a long-lost friend. Mako watched from several meters back, his arms crossed over his chest, studying her reaction more than anything else. The damage was not too noticeable to someone who was unaware, but Sy could not pull her eyes away. Two things set her off: one was her nose, which was flatter across the bridge, and generally puffier than its previous petite form; the other was the thin, darkened scar, contrasting sharply from her youthful, pale features, which carved a vertical pathway from the edge of her right nostril to the midpoint of her forehead.

Then there were her teeth, which, naturally, were off-colored. It wasn't as if she claimed to have perfect teeth before, but when her entire body was as white as a snowstorm, the slightest discoloration-as was present in the lowermost fragments of her front teeth-became all the more vibrant. Sy ran her hand along the features of her reconstructed face, and then pressed her palm against the cool glass of the mirror.

"It's wrong," she said, deeply disappointed. "They got it wrong."

"They had to rebuild it from scratch," Mako reminded her. "It's not like they could snap their fingers and make everything go back to normal."

"I get that," Sy said, turning to her boyfriend. "I'm glad they were able to do something, and I am really thankful for it. It's just... you'd think they'd use a reference photo or something. What the hell did they do to my nose?"

"Can you breathe?"

"Technically."

"That's what they did," said Mako. "Your nasal cavity collapsed. If the made it any smaller, you wouldn't be able to breathe. Besides," he added, "I like your new nose."

"Gee, thanks," Sy groaned. "I'll be sure to take that compliment and stick it next to my box of shattered hopes and dreams, which coincidentally happens to contain my face."

"Could you at least pretend to be a little more thankful?"

"I am thankful," Sy insisted. "Very thankful. Extremely thankful. But complaining about things is what I do best. It's a coping mechanism, and if I'm not allowed to cope for my busted face, then life will never be the same."

"I get you," Mako said. He pursed his lips, and paced awkwardly beside her. "So, a few months ago..."

"Yeah?"

"Right before the attack," Mako stated, "you said that you wanted to tell me something."

"I did?" Sy asked, thinking back to that pain-filled morning.

"You said that you had to tell me something about the 'real you.' Ring any bells?"

"I'll be honest with you," Sy said, scratching the back of her head. "I really don't remember anything. It's all kind of... blurry, you know? When you lose your face, you tend to forget the specifics."

"Are you sure you don't want to tell me anything?" Mako paused. "Hikaru."

Sy froze, and stared at him blankly, as if she had seen a ghost. Mako stared right back at her, tapping his fingers against his forearm. She opened her mouth, and clicked her tongue.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Your mother."

"Dammit."

"Sy," Mako said slowly, "why do you not want to tell me your real name?"

"Because my real name sucks," Sy stated unenthusiastically. "It sucks, and I want nothing to do with it."

"It doesn't suck."

"Really, Mako? You don't see any problems with it?"

"Not really."

Sy groaned. "Hikaru Kyoriku? It rhymes, Mako! I can't go around with a rhyming name. It sounds like something out of a children's book. I don't know what my mom was thinking when she came up with it, but she was wrong. Wrong, wrong, and super wrong."

"Don't you think you're overreacting?"

"Of course, I'm not," Sy said defensively. "What would you think if your name was Mako Schmako? That's a terrible name. Hikaru Kyoriku: terrible name. Plus, I like the name, 'Sy.' Short and sweet, just like me."

"Is that so?"

"You know it."

Mako pulled her into a tender hug. "Well, I'm glad you're feeling better. And for what it's worth, I think it's a lovely name."

"Wow, look at you," Sy spoke happily into his chest. "You're really racking up the compliment points today. Special occasion."

"You've been covered in bandages for months," Mako stated. "That's all the occasion I need."

Sy nestled her head further into him, closing her eyes and absorbing his warmth. "I guess you're right. It's nice. Just the two of us for once."

Mako nodded, content with his place in life. He held her gently, rocking the smaller woman back and forth in his arms. It seemed strange to him that only a few months ago, he recoiled from the very same touch. "So, any other secrets you wanted to tell me, Hikaru?"

"Now that you mention it… yeah," Sy said with a grin. "I'm breaking up with you."

Mako's face turned white. Before he could react, Sy burst into a fit of giggles.

"I'm joking, you idiot," she laughed. "But seriously though, don't call me that. Ever."

"Gotcha," Mako said, laughing nervously. "So, no more secrets?"

"Aside from me also being a serial killer?"

"That's not funny, Sy."

"What's not funny about seven corpses in my basement?"

"You have a very weird sense of humor."

The executive signed the contract without another word. He gave a simple nod to his suited partners, and handed the paper back to the pleased young woman sitting across the desk. She gave one last glance over the wording of the document, nodded in approval, and gently tucked it back into the dark grey folder in front of her.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you," Zhu Li said sincerely. The board members grumbled collectively, which she took as a sign of agreement. She strode out of the plain room, down the plain hallway, and into the nondescript elevator. She rolled back and forth on her heels as she descended, quietly humming the tune of the catchy jazz song she heard on the radio just the prior week. Once she reached the ground floor, she passed by the secretary that stared at her bitterly, out the front door, and into the backseat of the stretch limousine parked on the curb, where her ecstatic husband greeted her joyously.

"Is it done?" he asked gleefully. Zhu Li handed him the folder, smiling proudly.

"It is," she boasted. "You, Iknik Blackstone Varrick, are now the proud owner of Ingenious Enterprises."

"Aha!" Varrick proclaimed, pumping his fists into the air. "That's what I'm talking about. Who knew it would be that easy to take control of a company after its owner had been declared a war criminal?"

"Remind me to send a thank you letter to Shang on your behalf," Zhu Li added. "Of course, I think they would confiscate his mail, but that's beside the point."

"That loser got what he deserved," Varrick stated with a shrug. "Now, what's our progress on the… you know?"

Zhu Li shook her head. "She said that she would need more time to think about it."

"How much time could that lady possibly need?"

"That business was her father's. It means a lot to her," Zhu Li claimed. "Not to mention, she isn't exactly all there these days, after the…" Zhu Li tapped her finger against her skull, and Varrick sighed.

"Fine. Give her all the time she needs. In the meanwhile, I've been doing some thinking. Now that our little merger is complete, someone is going to have to take over Ingenious Enterprises operations."

"Yes?" Zhu Li said excitedly.

"And that someone is going to be me," Varrick said proudly. Zhu Li deflated.

"Oh. Alright then."

"But since I'm going to be busy with that, I want you to take over Varrick Global Industries."

Zhu Li's heart nearly burst out of her chest. "You want me to take over?"

"Do you want to?" he asked casually.

"Of course I—" Zhu Li paused, and quickly composed herself. "I mean… I think that is a solid decision, sir."

"Excellent," Varrick declared. "Since that's settled, I guess it's time for us to do the thing."

"Oh, yes," Zhu Li purred. She leaned in close to her husband, and caressed his chest. "We can absolutely do that."

Varrick lightly shoved her away. "No, not that thing! That thing comes later. I meant the other thing."

"Sorry," Zhu Li said, her cheeks turning a dark shade of red. "Driver, go to the place."

"The place?" asked the driver.

"The place."

"Heading to the place."

The limousine drove away from the offices of the couple's newly acquired property. It was truly a deal worth celebrating; they had bought the company for a fraction of its price, and under their guidance, they would lead it back to legitimacy. They were two of the three biggest leaders in the global market. Soon, they hoped to make it just the two of them.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come over there?"

"Mom, I'm fine," Opal insisted. She adjusted her grip on the phone, and rolled over on her couch. She heard her mother sigh audibly.

"I'm just worried, is all" said Suyin. "I haven't seen you in so long. Maybe it would be a good idea to give you a visit."

"Mom, please," Opal groaned, placing her hand on her forehead. "I'm okay. I have friends here. Bolin is here. You don't need to come to Republic City."

"How is Bolin feeling? I haven't heard from him."

"Bolin is doing fine. He has a few scars, but nothing major."

"And are you one hundred percent sure that you're okay?"

Opal's hand wandered down to her lower stomach.

"I'm okay. I promise."

"Alright," Suyin said, discouraged. "I'll let you live your life. But would it kill you to give your mother a call every once in a while?"

"I'll be sure to call you more often," Opal said. She looked past her feet, and noticed Bolin entering through the front door, several bags of groceries underneath his arms. "I have to go. Love you, mom."

"I love you, too," said Suyin. "Stay safe."

Opal hung up the phone with a sigh, and groggily rose to her feet. Bolin placed the groceries on the counter, and began to unpack the various foods. Bolin was especially proud of how clean the apartment looked. Weeks of hard work paid off nicely, and unless one had been aware of the damage, they never would have suspected anything to be wrong with it. Opal reached into one of the bags, and took out a loaf of bread, setting it aside as she removed more items.

"Was that your mom?" Bolin asked innocently.

"Third time this week she's called," Opal answered. "I wish she didn't worry so much."

"She's just being a good parent," Bolin reasoned. "Don't stress it. I'm she knows that you can take care of yourself."

"Right." Opal emptied her first grocery bag, and moved onto the next.

"Hey," Bolin said suddenly, "are you still upset about the—"

"No, no," Opal said dismissively. "That's in the past. No use dwelling on it."

"If you want, we can try—"

"It's fine, Bolin," Opal said forcefully. She clenched her fist, digging her nails into her skin. Opal buried her gaze into the grocery bags, as Bolin went quiet. They did not say another word to each other, as they finished unpacking their groceries, as they used to do when things were normal.

Lin leaned back in her chair, rolling her eyes. She brushed a few stray hairs out of her face, and fought the urge to fall asleep. She had not slept the night before, or the night before that. She was too focused, her mind too distracted with its own thoughts to allow her any rest. Chen dumped another batch of files onto her desk, and she cracked her knuckles, readying herself for the work ahead.

"So, why do you want all these files again?" Chen asked, confused.

"I'm investigating something," Lin stated.

"But I don't get it," said Chen. "The Hanzi Killer case was closed months ago. We found the guy who did it, and we know his motivation. What exactly are you trying to find?"

"I'm not sure," Lin admitted. "But I have this feeling in my gut that we're missing something. Something important."

"How important?"

"Well, I've been thinking about this a lot recently," Lin explained. "When Masaki attacked Asami, she was inside of her estate on the outskirts of the city. But when we found her, she was in a rundown building near the spirit portal. Think about it: How on earth did this kid manage to transport her halfway across the city without anybody noticing? He couldn't have carried her all the way there, and we didn't find any vehicles near his hideout, not that he even knew how to drive. It doesn't make any sense, and it's the same for the other victims, too. They were stolen out of their beds in the middle of the night, yet somehow, nobody seemed to notice this? You're trying to tell me that a scrawny little kid dragged a full-grown man all the way to a warehouse on the pier, and the man couldn't fight back or call for help?"

"That is pretty strange," Chen said with a thoughtful nod. "But we caught him in the act. He was the Hanzi Killer. Case closed."

"I know we caught him, but it doesn't add up. I just know we're missing something important."

"Maybe the kid didn't do it?"

"No, the kid was involved somehow," Lin stated. "He attacked Asami, Bolin, and Opal. But I can't imagine this kid—a twelve-year-old kid—being able to come up with this grand scheme, and being able to pull it off all on his own. He knew things he shouldn't have known. He had to have help from somewhere."

"Who do you think it was?" asked Chen.

"That's what I'm trying to find out. According to his records, he didn't have any family, and it didn't seem like he had any friends to help him pull this off. There must be something that we've passed over, and I'm going to find it."

"Does that mean we're reopening the case?"

"No, not officially," Lin said sternly. "As far as everyone else is concerned, the Hanzi Killer is dead and buried. I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"Yes, ma'am," Chen said, turning to leave the room. He stopped in the doorway, and added, "No offense, ma'am, but I hope you're wrong about this." The officer left the room, and Lin let out a tired sigh.

"So do I."

She leaned forward on her desk, and opened the first file.

"Korra, where are we going?" Asami asked impatiently.

"You'll see," said Korra. The Avatar quickly pulled Asami along, who covered her eyes with one hand per her girlfriend's request. It was Asami's first day out of the hospital, yet she barely had a moment to enjoy herself before Korra swooped her up, tucked her into her car, and raced her across the city. When they came to a stop, Korra whispered into her ear. "Okay. You can open your eyes now."

Asami did as instructed, and stood silently, taking in her surroundings. She was inside a vast studio apartment, decorated sparsely with soft, high-end furniture. A kitchen, complete with a stovetop and a full set of cooking utensils was directly to her left, while to her right, she could spot the master bedroom through a door that had been left ajar, noting that it had already been in use for several weeks. Ahead of her, past the living room with the dark blue carpet and brick fireplace where several pictures of the two of them rested on an overhanging shelf, were two large windows, from which she had a perfect view of the spirit portal, emitting tremendous levels of energy into the clouds above. Asami spun around like a top, her mouth hanging open from the wonderful shock.

"What is this?" she asked, still stunned and searching for adequate words to describe her feelings. Korra stepped further into the room, and tucked her hands into her pockets.

"This is home," Korra said with a soft smile. "Do you like it?"

"Do I like it?" Asami asked, wandering over to the kitchen countertop. "I… I can't even… did you buy this with your own money?"

"I thought it would be unfair if you got the bill for something you didn't know existed," Korra stated, "so, yeah. I bought this."

"You really didn't have to do that. I have money to spare."

"Don't worry about it," Korra said sheepishly. "A lot of people chipped in to help. When I told them that I wanted to get you a new place to live, they couldn't resist."

"This is…" Asami paused to find the words. "This is wonderful, Korra. I don't know what to say."

"I don't want you to say anything. I just want you to be happy. Besides, I think we're well overdo for a place of our own."

"Yeah. Sure…"

Asami wandered aimlessly, childlike, around the apartment, slowly absorbing the visual splendor. Korra smiled to herself. She stared out the window at the spirit portal, unchanged since the day it was created. She thought it was funny how in the span of only a few months, things could change so rapidly. It was bizarre to think that things had been so peaceful before, how she had been so full of blind optimism. But those days were over. Her eyes drifted skyward, where a patch of grey clouds had conquered the air.

"Hey, Asami," Korra said, forcing herself away from the window, "do you want to see the bedroom? It's really—"

Korra froze. Asami stood by the fireplace, unmoving, her arms dangling limply at her side. Her unfocused eyes were locked directly onto a photograph of the two of them.

"Asami?" Korra called, taking a step closer. Asami did not move. "Asami? Is everything okay?"

Korra placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Asami tensed up from the touch, and suddenly snapped to attention, as if awoken from a dream. Her eyes were moist, and Korra moved to wipe the tears from her face.

"Is something wrong?" Korra asked, concerned.

"I don't…" Asami stammered. She motioned to the photograph of the two of them. "I can't remember this. I… I just can't…"

Asami slowly collapsed into Korra's arms, and cried softly into her shoulder. Korra held her as she rocked back and forth, gently combing her fingers through Asami's long, dark hair.

And then, for a moment, Korra understood. For months, she had struggled and fought to find a reason, but all at once, it came to her. She never knew why Masaki let Asami live. It would have been easy for the child to take her life, but he refused to, and Korra never knew why. But suddenly, it made sense. If Asami had died, she would have mourned and grieved, but she would be able to survive past it. She would be able to continue with her life. Instead, her life as she knew it was essentially over. She would spend the rest of her days as Asami's caretaker, tending after the shell of the woman that she once loved, dedicating herself to taking care of the shattered remains of a human being. Every morning, she would wake up to her new life, except she would no longer see Asami beside her; all she could see was a spirit forever broken, a constant, painful reminder of her own failure.

Korra brushed that thought aside. She reminded herself that she loved Asami. She loved Asami very much. She cooed in Asami's ear, and told her that they would fix it. She told Asami that she would recover, and before she knew it, everything would return to normal. She told Asami that, no matter what, she would be there for her, and most importantly, everything would be okay.

She was lying.