The sound of a door being thrown open jolts Korra awake. Her head jerks up and a too-thin sheet slips off her arms and chest to pool messily onto the floor. She rubs her eyes with an internal groan as Asami walks into the study. The sofa stops being comfortable after extended periods of time. Two nights in a row and Korra still hasn't gotten used to it. Plus it's too easy to roll right off the damn thing.
"Where are you going?" Korra mumbles, mouth thick with the taste of morning breath.
Asami, as she sets down a small briefcase, does not reply. Instead, she takes a seat behind the desk and begins a thorough search through her papers. A yawn forces Korra's mouth wide open and she hears her jaw crack. She searches with bleary eyes afterwards for the clock, and upon finding the timepiece affixed to the wall above the bookcase her suspicions are confirmed.
"It's too early for you to be going in for work, isn't it?" Korra asks, pushing a hand up into thickly tousled hair as she sits up.
"That's because I'm not going to work," Asami tonelessly replies, leaning over a pile of documents.
"You're...certainly dressed for the occasion."
The woman impatiently sweeps a dark, glossy lock over her shoulder as it falls out of place. "I have a meeting to attend."
"Oh." Korra drums her fingers along the back of her hand, surreptitiously glancing over Asami's sharp attire. "With who?"
"The President."
"Oh. Why?"
"To offer him a better alternative to your absurd idea."
"Oh - wait, what?"
"You heard me."
Korra throws the sheet entirely off of herself and scrambles to her feet. "Asami, what are you talking about?"
"I am referring to your grand plan, the one in which you excuse a war criminal of her crimes in the hopes she will teach the secret to an apparently impossible form of bending."
"She's not being excused of anything."
"You're letting Kuvira out of prison - "
"Conditionally," Korra argues.
"- and putting her under house arrest? It may as well amount to the same thing."
"Except it doesn't."
"I don't care for the technicalities," Asami says dismissively.
"Well you should, because they make the difference," Korra replies, standing in front of her desk as she watches the woman rummage through one of the filing drawers. "What are you even looking for?"
It takes Asami a long moment to answer, though when she does it's with a thick binder in hand. "This."
"And that is...?"
"Plans I'm going to present to Raiko," Asami says, flipping it open.
"Plans for...?"
"A machine that can remove bending."
She speaks without a trace of hesitation. Korra stares at her, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
"Come...c-come again?" she eventually manages.
"Varrick has discovered that spirit vines can be used to store several different forms of energy," Asami begins explaining, not even looking at Korra as she flips through the binder. "That energy, be it heat, electrical or what have you, is converted into spirit energy, and the capacity of just a single vine is tremendous. Two months ago, Varrick proposed a new, frankly revolutionary idea for the manner in which a vine's potential can be used. On the condition that he would share with me his research, I've been building Varrick a machine that will extract an individual's bending and transfer it to be stored as spirit energy within a vine."
"You...that's not possible," Korra whispers.
Asami sighs in business-like fashion. "I'm getting ahead of myself. Theoretically, the machine will be drawing chi from the natural pathways of the body. We have already mapped the layouts specific to each element and can calibrate the machine accordingly. With chi being the root of the art, siphoning that from the individual should in theory take with it their bending. The project, however, is still in the experimental phase."
Korra's jaw is loose in utter disbelief. "Why would you make such a thing?"
"For Varrick, as always, it's about money. He wants to turn bending into a product. First, however, he will need to figure out how to convert spirit energy back into its original form."
"And you?"
Asami shrugs. "Future Industries needs to stay ahead of the curve."
"You're talking about taking away someone's bending!"
"What does it matter," Asami says, "when the bending being taken belongs to a criminal."
Korra fumes. "Why am I only finding out about this now?"
"Oh, like how you told me about your weekly visits to Kuvira?"
Korra shrinks under the weight of her glare. "I knew it would upset you."
"I wonder why."
"You want to use this - this thing on her."
"It is a far simpler alternative to the idea you somehow managed to convince Raiko was a good one," Asami replies, closing the lid on her briefcase. "Kuvira will pose no threat to anyone after her bending has been removed. She can be locked up in a cell like any other prisoner and serve her time."
"Asami," Korra pleads, "you're talking about ripping away an intrinsic part of another human being; you're tearing apart their identity as a person. You have to see that this is wrong on so many levels -"
"She killed my father!"
Silence reigns in the wake of a pair of fists slamming down onto the desk. Asami's eyes are hot and angry as she looks up at Korra.
"You may have, but I will not forget what that woman did," she says coldly, gathering up her things. "Now excuse me. I'm already running late."
Helpless, Korra can only watch as Asami slams the door shut behind her.
Kuvira is an impatient teacher, but she does not scream and yell at her students' incompetence. She simply loses interest in them. As it happens, with a dozen or so metalbenders occupying the hall, each with a small pile of scrap platinum sitting before them, the only individual that currently holds the woman's attention is the Avatar.
"This isn't going well," Korra observes, biting her lip.
"No."
"Perhaps...maybe you shouldn't give up on them so easily?"
Kuvira shrugs. "It would make little difference."
"You don't know that unless you try," Korra says.
She can hear the frustration in her own voice as Kuvira turns to look at her. The woman's face is pale, her cheeks hollow. Denied the skilful exaggeration of makeup, her dark eyebrows are no longer so fiercely emphasised. She looks thin, almost sickly under unflattering light. The line of her mouth is flat, curving downwards at the corners. Korra has never seen Kuvira smile.
"They won't make any progress like this," the woman tells her tonelessly. She stands with her feet apart and hands folded behind her; old habits. "It's too safe."
"So it needs to be dangerous?"
"It needs to be practical."
Korra lifts her hands. "I don't have any idea what that means, Kuvira. You're the one who can platinumbend. You have to take the lead here."
"I don't believe I am permitted to," the woman says, raising an arm to make a gesture.
Korra watches the police officers lining the walls of the hall stiffen even as Kuvira points her attention towards them. More are on alert outside.
"I'm not a good teacher," Kuvira tells her. "Were I one, these conditions are still less than ideal."
"You're all we have," Korra replies, "and I'm afraid this is all you're going to get."
The woman closes her eyes and audibly exhales. Korra presses on.
"Kuvira, you have to try. Besides, this is only your first class!"
Her burst of enthusiastic cheer earns Korra a sidelong glance. Kuvira sighs.
"Fine."
Korra watches as she steps forward again to engage with her reluctant students. The tension in the hall is as thick as Kuvira's hair - or at least as much as it used to be. Now her hair is coarse and dry, falling to the small of her back in a long braid that lightly sways in time with her rigid gait. Gone are her prison overalls, replaced by simple, loose trousers and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Gone too is the firm, healthy tone of the woman's body. She's softer in places and harder in others; the results of a diet beyond her control. Korra frowns deeply.
Other worries help etch the lines into her face. She has still heard nothing of Asami's meeting. Korra only hopes Raiko is sensible enough to see her proposal for what it is, but then Asami has always had a silver tongue. And Varrick has always had the President's ear.
"Excuse me, Avatar Korra?"
She jumps. The officer now standing at her side jumps too.
"Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you -"
"It's fine," she assures him, trying to laugh off her reaction. "I was in another world."
"The Chief sent me to tell you she needs to talk to you."
"Right now?"
"Yes, ma'am - I mean, Avatar Korra," the man quickly corrects.
She doesn't like being called 'ma'am'.
Kuvira assures her rather plainly that she can be safely left alone for several minutes without Korra's supervision, and afterwards she finds herself standing in Lin's office. The woman turns away from her desk as Korra closes the door behind her, arms folded across her chest.
"I just received a call from the President," Lin says, straight to the point. Korra pauses, under the sharp gaze of the Chief feeling for some reason that she's about to get told off.
"Uh, okay?"
"Following a meeting with your pair of industrialist friends this morning, Raiko has extended us - you and I - an invitation to a demonstration of their newest piece of technology."
Korra finds it difficult to swallow. "Did...did he tell what exactly it does?"
Lin purses her lips. "I am in the dark. Raiko believes this is something I - we all need to see with our own eyes." Lin's narrow at her. "You look like you already know."
Korra shakes her head quickly, a lock of hair falling across her brow. "Did he say when the demonstration is taking place?"
"In three days."
She practically bolts from office.