Autumn came all in a rush. The first two weeks of school were welcomed with a rainless heat wave that made all the grass and leaves turn brown, then it rapidly petered out in a blustery chill.

"Mom, where's my math homework?!" Kiriko called from the living room as she dug through her bag.

"How should I know?"

She sighed and ran upstairs to her bedroom. Five minutes later, it was torn apart and she finally managed to locate the missing notebook under her bed.

"We're going to be late!" Korra shouted from downstairs.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" But just as she was about to leave, she remembered the extra change of clothes she'd need after school. That took another minute or so of rummaging through a pile at the foot of her bed, then she was out the door, hopping on one foot to get her shoes on while running down the hall.

"You're such a hot mess," Anisa said with a laugh.

"Hey, you're just as messy as me! Your room is a disaster."

Korra strode into the room and smirked at them both. "And Mama said we're gonna fix that tonight after you two get home."

There were various groans and mutters in response to that, but she chivied them out the door before they could complain too much.

"Who cares if our rooms are messy?" Kiriko asked her once they got in the car.

"As your parent, it's my job to care."

"But really it's Mama who cares," Anisa said with a snicker. "She's always fussing at you to pick up your dirty socks."

Korra turned around from the front seat with a sly smile—she almost never drove, instead letting a driver take them places if Asami wasn't there—and winked at them.

"I think we all know who's in charge in our house."

All of them laughed but Kiriko soon found herself staring out the window, deep in thought. Lately, she'd started to feel like it was so childish to call her other mother 'Mama'. It felt like baby talk—something for toddlers or young kids.

Was she just supposed to call her that forever, even as an adult? Or would she eventually call them both 'Mom'? But that seemed too confusing. What was the alternative? To simply use their first names?

It was far from the first time she'd had these thoughts, but she was unsure how to bring it up with either of them. Anisa didn't seem to care at all; she even still said 'Mommy' occasionally.

Like a baby…

Except now Anisa was the more grown-up one between the two of them. Only last week, she'd gotten her first period. Now Kiriko was eagerly waiting for her own turn so they could be equals, once again. Always being in second place was so discouraging. Anisa was a month older and it always seemed like she got everything months or years sooner.

But I'm better at bending now, Kiriko thought smugly. All those long hours of painstaking practice and dedication had paid off. Anisa preferred variety in her free time. A busy social life. I have friends… I don't need to see them all the time.

And in fact, she saw quite enough of her friends during school. By the end of the busy day, she was ready to take off her uniform, put on more comfortable clothes, and spend a couple of hours at the soup kitchen.

Volunteer work was something she and Anisa had been required to do for years, though not every day. Sometimes it was a soup kitchen, other times a shelter for women or animals. The work was hard, but Kiriko didn't mind washing dishes for a little while. It let her decompress from the school day and fill her mind with the bending techniques she wanted to work on.

Anisa complained the whole time, of course.

Afterward, they were escorted back home by their usual driver to spend another hour in an art class or self-defense training or a dance lesson or tinkering in Asami's workshop or whatever else they were scheduled to do on any given day. By the time dinner rolled around and they finally gathered around the table, Kiriko was exhausted.

"How was school today?" Korra asked them while they ate.

"I got a B plus on my geography test," Anisa said with a smug glance at Kiriko, who silently scowled because she'd gotten a B minus.

"Nice job."

Kiriko searched her mind for a way to change the subject and was suddenly reminded of something important. "Oh! We saw a video in Contemporary Studies today! There were people doing a dance with bending—the Tura Tura! Isn't that what they do at the New Year's Gala?"

"It is," Asami confirmed.

"I want to do it!" The very idea of learning such a challenging thing and showing off at the Gala made her bounce up and down in her seat. "I want to learn it and be part of the performance!"

Her moms glanced at each other for a long moment, then Asami looked at her.

"All the performers are professional dancers."

"I'm a good dancer! And a great bender, too! I can do it. I can practice really hard. And anyway, I'm as tall as some grown-up women now."

"You don't look like them," Anisa scoffed. "You don't even have any boobs. You're just a skinny stick."

"You don't have any, either!"

"Yeah, I do! See?"

"Hey!" Asami said loudly over their yelling. "Put your shirt down. This is the dinner table." She shot a withering glare over at Korra, who was choking down a laugh, then turned back to Kiriko. "When exactly would you have time to devote to rehearsals?"

"Can't I just give up after-school activities for a few months? Please, please, please? I'll do my volunteering on the weekends."

They glanced at each other again and Kiriko wrung her hands together where they sat in her lap.

"We'll think about it," Korra said finally.

"Yessss!"

For the next three days, Kiriko badgered both of her moms every chance she got.

"Have you decided?"

"Not yet. Be patient."

On the fourth day, which was on the weekend, Korra knocked on her door. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah. I'm just doing my homework." Kiriko was on her bed, lying on her stomach with her ankles crossed in the air. The notebook in front of her was full of math problems that she was struggling to solve. Why did schoolwork have to be so hard?

She rolled over onto her side when Korra came in and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I swung by City Hall to talk to the Gala committee on my way home—"

Kiriko bolted upright onto her knees. "What did they say?"

"They said you're welcome to go to the audition. It's not a guarantee of anything, but Mama and I have decided that, if you're picked, we can rearrange your schedule so you can go to rehearsals."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she exclaimed, lunging forward to give her mom a big hug.

"You're welcome. But—" Korra grasped her shoulders and pushed her away enough to make eye contact. "Don't get your hopes up too much, okay? You've obviously got your heart set on doing this, and I think it's great that you're so passionate, but more than likely, they'll think you're too young."

"I'll just have to be the best so that won't matter."

"I'm confident that you'll show them a thing or two."

Auditions were the following weekend and Kiriko was a tightly-wound ball of nerves. It didn't help that Anisa seemed intent on pushing her buttons that morning.

"Snoring all night, dancing all day," she sang. Making up dumb little songs was one of her favorite ways to irritate people. "Fall on your butt and they'll make you go-go, trip on your feet 'cause you're Kiri Kiri Ko-ko."

"Shut up! Don't call me that!"

"But it sounds so cute!" she reached up on her toes to pat Kiriko on the head. "Like a little birdie."

"Stop it! Ugh! You're so annoying!"

Asami walked in at that point and shook her head. "Anisa, stop tormenting her." She turned to Kiriko with an encouraging smile. "You're going to do great, so don't worry. Even if you don't get picked, there's always next year. You'll have lots of chances."

"Thanks." She was on the verge of adding 'Mama' but couldn't make it come out of her mouth. Right now, more than ever, she needed to feel grown up.

"Are you ready?"

Kiriko swallowed hard. "Yeah– Wait! I need my ballroom shoes!"

"I'll be in the car."

The ride there was very quiet while Kiriko went through everything she'd learned so far. The last couple of weeks had been a frantic blur of watching every video of the dance that she could find at the library. Over and over again she replayed them, memorizing the complex footwork, the turns and lifts, how bending was incorporated. It was a thing of exquisite beauty—slow at first, but with rapidly increasing speed that spiraled into a frenzy—and every performance had unique choreography.

"Are you going to come in with me?" she asked her mom when they got there.

"Do you want me to?"

Kiriko thought about it for a second. While it would be nice to have a friendly face in the room, she didn't want to be the only person there who'd brought their mom along.

I'm not a little girl. "I think I want to go in by myself."

A bittersweet smile tugged at Asami's mouth. "I'll pick you up in a few hours."

The building in front of them wasn't as intimidating as expected. It was just a single-story rec center. There were signs on the outer wall for a swimming pool and others for various classes or activities being taught.

"Okay," Kiriko said as she slowly opened the car door and got out. Her hands shook a little and she balled them up into fists.

"Good luck, hun. I know you'll do great."

"Thanks…"

They were in the middle of having dinner when the phone rang. That wasn't such an unusual thing, especially with two Very Important parents, but Kiriko had been more attuned to it in the last few days. She jumped up and was halfway across the room before Asami said her name sternly.

"You know the rules."

Kiriko froze with a sheepish smile. "But–"

"No buts. We have dinner together, as a family. Spirits know we have little enough time with all four of us in the same place."

Despite that rule, they could all hear the message on the answering machine. It wasn't like the Avatar could just ignore potential emergencies.

"Good evening, this is Ming Chen on the New Year's Gala Entertainment Committee. I'm calling in regards to Kiriko Sato's audition."

Kiriko's heart went from nervous pulsing to a furious hammering that nearly drowned out the voice. But to her surprise, Korra stood and swiftly crossed the room to pick up the handset before anything else could be said.

"This is Avatar Korra."

In the silence that followed, Kiriko glanced at Anisa, who was the only one still eating. She picked at her vegetables, eating tiny bites as if trying to pretend like she didn't care. But Kiriko knew her sister and could tell that she was listening hard.

"Yes, I understand," Korra said finally. "Thank you." She hung up and returned to her chair, avoiding everyone's eyes.

Kiriko's stomach dropped. "I didn't get it, did I?"

"You're a first alternate. You'll be expected to go to every rehearsal, but you won't get to perform unless one of the firebenders drops out."

Her voice was full of sympathy, but Kiriko didn't need it. She wrung her hands together excitedly.

"I get to learn with the others?! Every rehearsal?! And if someone quits, I get their spot?"

"Yep!" Korra seemed more cheerful now. "You obviously made a good impression on them. You should be proud."

Kiriko was proud. She strutted around for the rest of the evening while Anisa rolled her eyes after a half-hearted, 'Congrats, I guess.' That night's homework was neglected because all she wanted to do was lie in bed and daydream about the upcoming weeks.

Surely, someone would drop out. This was meant to be.

The first rehearsal was a nightmare.

"What's that kid doing here?" someone muttered to their friend, quietly but not quietly enough.

Kiriko tried to ignore it, as well as the disapproving stares. The audition had been much of the same—most looked at her with condescension; someone had even asked her if she was lost.

"I heard she's the Avatar's kid. Talk about a nepo baby."

"Really? She doesn't look anything like her."

The loud whispers were obviously meant to be heard. Kiriko didn't know what a 'nepo baby' was, but she definitely didn't like being called any kind of baby or being reminded that Korra wasn't her biological mom. It took all of her willpower not to run away and hide in the bathroom.

Fortunately, the instructor stalked in before anyone else could say anything to humiliate her. "Alright, people! Main crew—form three rows in front of me. Alternates—line up at the back and try to keep up."

That set the tone for the rest of the three-hour lesson in pain. The primary crew consisted of twenty dancers: four of each bender, plus four non-benders. In a similar vein, there were five alternates, and they glanced at Kiriko with as much disdain as everyone else.

It was a brutal, fast-paced workout set to music that changed tempo at seemingly random intervals. There was little dancing and no bending, just cardio and aerobics. And while she was young and fit enough to keep up with the adults—most of whom appeared to be in their twenties—it was glaringly obvious that she lacked their fluid grace.

With twenty minutes to go, a moment of distraction while watching the woman next to her resulted in a twisted ankle that sent her careening into another dancer.

"Watch it!" he complained, barely keeping his feet.

Face burning with embarrassment, Kiriko hobbled to the back and sat against the wall, trying her hardest not to cry as she took her shoes off. Her ankle was already swollen and purple; it was badly sprained, if not broken.

When the rehearsal ended, several people eyed her with smug half-smiles. They shook their heads as if to say, 'I knew she wouldn't cut it', and that's what finally made a stubborn rebelliousness surge inside her chest.

As such, she was ready when the instructor approached her.

"So are you out then? I've got others I can call who will gladly take your spot."

"No," Kiriko said firmly as she struggled to her feet, though she couldn't bear much weight on the injured one. "My mom will heal me. I'll be here for the next rehearsal."

"Hm. Alright, then. But I won't go easy on you just because you're young."

Their driver was the one who picked her up, so she didn't let herself cry until she got home. She couldn't even make it upstairs and instead simply collapsed on the living room sofa.

"What happened?" Asami asked with deep concern.

"Wh- Where's Mom?"

"She not here. She won't be back until tomorrow morning."

"I need her," Kiriko choked out. "I hurt my ankle. I need her to heal it so I don't have to quit."

Asami came over to have a look, then tsked softly. "It's pretty swollen. I'll get you some ice." She kissed Kiriko's temple and brushed the hair out of her face. "Don't worry. I'll figure something out." As she walked away, she called out, "Anisa, can you come here, please?"

Oh great, Kiriko thought sourly. She'll probably just make it worse on purpose so I have to quit .

The ice came first and she was able to dry her tears, then Anisa sauntered into the room and sat down at the foot of the couch to have a look at the injury.

"Geez, Koko. What did you do?"

"Don't call me that! I'm serious!" It was almost enough to make her start crying again.

"Alright, alright. You don't have to get all emotional." She picked up Kiriko's calf and set the injured ankle across her lap. "I'll fix you up just fine and you can get back to your little dance lessons."

Kiriko gritted her teeth when the cool water wrapped around the swollen skin. "You sound jealous. Green's not a good color on you."

"I'm not jealous! If I'd wanted to audition, I would have."

"Girls," Asami said with a weary sigh. "Please. You both have your interests. It's not a competition."

Everything's a competition, Kiriko argued in her head. But she wanted Anisa to do a good job, so she swallowed her pride and grumbled, "Sorry. I just had a bad day."

It seemed to mollify Anisa; her next words had a much more conciliatory tone. "I guess you must stick out there, huh? They probably think you only got it because your mom's the Avatar."

"Wait… Is that what 'nepo baby' means?"

Asami cocked an eyebrow. "Someone said that to you?"

"Not to me, but I heard them whispering." She jutted out her chin. "It's not true. I'm sure it's not true. If I was getting special treatment, I wouldn't just be an alternate. They picked me because I'm good."

"I know," Anisa said matter-of-factly. "I mean, you're a pain in the ass when you're smug about it, but you're still good." She glanced up at their mom and rolled her eyes. "Pain in the butt. Whatever."

Just before bedtime, after four healing sessions, Kiriko received an unexpected visitor, who was dropped off by her dad.

"Raniq? What are you doing here?"

"Your mom called my mom. I was over at a friend's house, though, so I didn't find out until half an hour ago. She said you got hurt at rehearsal?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I'm staying the night. I'll take over from Anisa until Korra gets back."

Kiriko got up and hopped over to give her a hug, eyes brimming with tears. "You're the best friend ever."

"I'll leave her in your capable hands," Varrick said to Asami with a dramatic flourish. To Raniq, he added. "Bye, Sweetpea. Enjoy your sleepover."

The three girls set up camp in the living room, piling up pillows and blankets by the fireplace, which was lit to banish the autumn chill. Asami brought them some healthy snacks and Kiriko told Raniq all about her awful day while soothing water surrounded her sore ankle.

"None of them like me…" she finished with a sigh.

"Don't give up. You've just gotta prove yourself. Even if you don't get to perform, you can still earn their respect."

Those encouraging words stayed with her all throughout the night while Raniq continued to do healing sessions, though it wasn't enough to banish the usual anxiety she had whenever Korra was away doing Avatar stuff.

But she woke early in the morning to the sound of the front door closing and all of the worry melted away in an instant, as it always did. Even better, she was allowed to stay home from school to rest and spend most of the day with her mom.

"Maybe you should wear different shoes to rehearsals…" Korra lamented at one point. "Something without a heel."

"I have to wear those. It's part of the costume. I can't learn the whole dance in the wrong shoes. Anyway, I only tripped because I was trying to watch someone else. I'll be more careful."

Korra was quiet for a second, then looked at her with an uncharacteristically serious expression. "You know you don't have to do this, right? It's okay to stop doing something if you hate it. You don't have to prove anything."

Hearing that hurt more than she wanted to admit. "You– You think I should quit? You think I'm not good enough?" An even worse thought popped into her mind, thanks to what Anisa had said. "Did they even want me at all? Did they make me an alternate just as a favor to you?"

The outburst seemed to surprise Korra. Her eyebrows shot up, and then back down into a worried frown. "Not that I'm aware of. I didn't interfere at all." She finished the current session and put her healing water away, then scooted closer. "I don't think you should quit. And I know you won't. That's why I said what I said, because I know you—how stubborn and proud you are. I want you to understand that it's okay to quit if you're miserable. It's a lesson I had to learn the hard way."

"When have you ever quit anything in your life?" Kiriko muttered, mollified but only just barely.

"Scooch over."

"Huh?"

"I'm gonna tell you a story and I want to be comfortable because it's gonna take a while."

Once they were both settled next to each other in Kiriko's bed, Korra took a deep breath.

"You've heard watered-down versions of this story before, but I think you're old enough to hear the full truth of my fight with Zaheer, and what happened after. Unless you don't want to know… It's pretty brutal. I don't want you to be scared."

Kiriko was warmed all over by the thought of sharing something like this with her mom, just the two of them. Even if it did scare her. "I want to know."

"Alright. I was eighteen…"

At the end of the fifth rehearsal, Kiriko finally made a friend.

"Nice job today," a young woman said while they were on their way out.

Kiriko glanced around to make sure she was actually the one being addressed. She didn't know the woman's name but recognized her as one of the waterbenders in the main crew. "Oh, uh, thanks."

"My name's Ula, by the way."

"Kiriko."

"Heh. Yeah, I know who you are. I'll be honest—at first, I thought you being here was someone's idea of a cruel joke. I felt bad for you. But I gotta say, I'm impressed with how you've stuck with it. I'm not surprised that you're a skilled bender, considering who's training you, but I didn't expect you to be able to keep up with the dancing aspect."

It was strange—her words felt like a compliment, but also not at the same time. "I've taken dance lessons since I was little," she said stiffly, still wary, "and I practice at home every day, watching videos of old performances."

"You're really serious about this, aren't you? It's not just a passing distraction."

"I really want to perform. I hope someone drops out."

They were outside now and she spotted her driver waving to her.

Ula leaned a little closer and lowered her voice. "I hope you get Atani's spot. She's such a bitch. And she doesn't even seem to care that much. Only reason she got the part is because she's had it for the last five years. You've got much more fire in your heart."

The weeks became months and rehearsals went from orderly lines in front of a large mirror to flowing sequences in a spacious ballroom. Kiriko, along with the other alternates, often practiced on their own while the main group perfected their interactions with each other. Occasionally, they would switch out and she would get to experience what the dance as a complete art piece felt like.

While none of the firebenders in the main crew dropped out, two others did, which was frustrating to watch. Two of the alternates quit and were replaced by second alternates. Kiriko took it upon herself to get them up to speed and, very slowly, began to earn grudging respect even from those who couldn't bring themselves to see her as a peer.

As autumn shifted into winter, the school year came to an end. It was a frantic time, full of term papers and final exams. Between that and rehearsals, which were every other weekday, plus one on the weekend, Kiriko could barely keep her head above water. Every night, she fell into bed, exhausted, and had to bed dragged out in the morning.

With each passing day, with the temperature dropping and creating flurries of early snow, she got more and more anxious. The idea of getting to perform made her just as nervous as not getting to perform. For the first time in her memory, the pro-bending championship came and went with her mind being so full of other things that she barely paid attention when the matches were on TV.

New Year's Day dawned bright and clear. Fresh powder from an overnight storm blanketed the ground. Kiriko got up, wrapped herself in a thick robe, and walked out onto her balcony. The thick layer of snow made the city seem so…quiet. It looked further away than usual from their home on the outskirts.

Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to live downtown instead. Lin had told her a couple of stories when Kiriko managed to catch her in a good mood. Those had been different times, of course—electricity and indoor plumbing had been recent innovations when Lin was young.

"Did you know my mother invented pro-bending?" she'd said once.

"Yeah, of course. I know everything about pro-bending."

"Oh, yeah?" Lin peered at her with a challenge in her sharp gaze.

The questions came fast and hard, but Kiriko was able to answer all of them.

"I'm impressed, kid. But I've got one more for you: Why did I quit pro-bending?"

At that, she was finally stymied. Lin had participated in the open-class league for a few years as a young adult, but that was it. "Um… To join the police force?"

"Nope."

Back in the present, lost in her thoughts, Kiriko mulled over that conversation. Lin never did tell her why. She would only say that some stones were better left unturned. But Kiriko disagreed; it was better to have all the information. To know everything, to be the best. How could knowledge or skill ever be a bad thing?

The peaceful moment on the balcony ended when Asami found her and chivied her into her bedroom. Korra and Anisa were already there, and together the four of them enjoyed breakfast pastries while getting ready for the Gala.

It was hard for Kiriko to make herself pretend to be excited. In past years, she'd always had fun for the first couple of hours but eventually found a quiet corner with Raniq and occasionally Cheli—if she was even around, which she often wasn't thanks to her family's air nomad lifestyle.

She, Kiriko, and Raniq were much more introverted than their peers. All the other kids in the Important Families seemed to love big social gatherings, or at the very least were required to pretend to enjoy them. Kiriko was, fortunately, permitted to take breaks as needed. And tonight she would have even less energy for socializing than usual, knowing she would have to watch others perform the dance she'd worked so hard to learn.

"Chin up," Asami said with a smile. She physically lifted Kiriko's chin to put lipstick on, so it was unclear if she meant it literally, figuratively, or both. "It'll be a fun party. You'll still get to join in the other dances."

"It's not the same…"

Once her makeup was done, Kiriko looked at herself in the mirror. Asami stood behind the chair to fix a few stray hairs. Her own makeup was already done—flawless and elegant as always—and Kiriko was shocked to realize how much she resembled her now. It was more pronounced with them both made up and their faces side-by-side.

"I look like you," she said, though it immediately felt like a dumb thing to say.

Asami pinched her cheek and chuckled. "Well, of course you do."

"I always thought I looked more like Uncle Mako."

"Only when you frown."

Kiriko formed her expression into a fierce scowl, just for fun, and they both laughed. "Yeah, you're right."

"Are you done yet?" Anisa complained behind them. "It's my turn. I don't want to be late."

In fact, they arrived in time to mingle a little before the midday feast. Kiriko immediately set off to find Raniq, and together they played their usual game of making up backstories for the other guests.

"That one is secretly an illegitimate Fire Nation prince," Raniq said conspiratorially. She loved making people be secret illegitimate children of important people.

"That doesn't even make sense. Fire Lord Rina is a woman. Wouldn't it have been kinda hard to hide that?"

"You just have to use your imagination. Royal families are always going out of their way to hide scandals."

"I'm definitely too young to use my imagination for that," Kiriko muttered. Raniq always wanted to talk about romance and babies and it sometimes drove her crazy. "I might always be 'too young' for it, actually."

"Give it a few years. I'm sure you'll change your mind."

Doubtful.

After the feast, there were the usual traditional dances—very slow and formal. Kiriko always managed to get stuck with some awkward boy her age. Usually, that meant he was half a foot shorter and didn't give two craps about dancing. Even worse was when she had to dance with Nik. He knew what he was doing, at least, but was determined to try and break her careful composure with stupid jokes.

Still, even that was more fun than trying to avoid politicians and foreign dignitaries who were just fascinated by chatting with the Avatar's children. There was plenty of that throughout the afternoon, and hiding in the corner with Raniq wasn't always a valid option.

The large, elaborately carved clock in the grand hall chimed for three o'clock and a sudden ache rippled through Kiriko's stomach. It was almost time for the Tura Tura. The dancers would be putting the final touches on their costumes and doing one more quick run-through—

"Kiriko!" a familiar voice called.

She looked around for the source and quickly spotted Ula rushing over, already in costume.

"You won't believe it! Yorua is sick! Do you want her spot?"

Kiriko's mouth went dry in an instant. This didn't feel real. It was too much like some of her daydreams—saving the show at the last minute. How could this be real?

"I– I don't have my shoes," was all that came out of her mouth.

"Well, can someone get them for you? Even if we have to start a little bit late, it's better than having someone missing."

Raniq was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. "Go find your moms!" she squealed. "Hurry!"

Completely tongue-tied, Kiriko just started running around in frantic circles. She didn't even care about the disapproving stares she got from those around her. It seemed to take far too long for her to locate either of her parents, but she finally found Korra talking in a small knot of people.

"Mom! Mom!"

"What?" she said with concern, having been cut off mid-sentence. "What's wrong?"

Kiriko could barely speak from hyperventilating. "I need– my shoes– dance– someone– sick–!"

"Huh?"

Ula had followed her—though at a more respectable pace—and was able to offer a coherent explanation.

Korra grinned when she finally understood. "See, this is why I bring my glider everywhere. You go get dressed. I'll get your shoes."

The next twenty minutes were a hazy blur of excitement and nervousness.

"Ugh, I feel kind of sick," Kiriko muttered while Ula helped her into the costume. Everyone, including the alternates, had been fitted for them weeks ago so they'd be used to rehearsing them. They were colorful, with wide, flowing skirts that were slit up to the thigh on one side and attached to the wrist on the other. The effect wasn't quite as nice on her, with a distinct lack of curves and no breasts to speak of, but at least it fit.

"Suck it up," Ula said, though with a smile. "It's just stage fright."

"I shouldn't have eaten so much at the feast."

"You'll forget all about that once you're out there."

But she felt much better even before that. While two people styled her hair and added more dramatic stage makeup, several dancers came up to her with friendly smiles and thanked her for stepping up.

"If you pull this off," one said, "I'll personally vouch for you next year."

Someone walked in and announced, "Five minutes, people!" Thirty seconds later, Korra breezed into the room with windblown hair. Her presence was dominating; everyone instantly stopped talking to stare at her.

"One pair of ballroom shoes," she said as she handed them over to Kiriko, who struggled not to cry out of sheer relief and quickly put them on to distract herself.

"Thanks, Mom."

"Yeah, thanks, Mom!" one of the more boisterous men said loudly from the other side of the room, garnering a ripple of laughter.

Korra smirked and shook her head. "You look so beautiful. So grown-up. It makes me a little bit sad."

"Why?"

"Ah…never mind. Go out there and have fun. You've earned it."

"Ladies and gentlemen," a deep voice boomed over the loudspeaker as the lights dimmed. "A very happy New Year to you all! Now it's time to clear the floor and make way for the main event: the Tura Tura! Stand well back—it's about to get HOT!"

Enthusiastic applause was followed by a deep hush that spread through the crowd, which had dispersed to the periphery. Kiriko was practically vibrating with anticipation.

Don't trip. Don't trip. Don't trip.

They spread out to find their places. Kiriko had learned both firebending positions and was still frantically running through the sequences in her head, begging the Spirits not to let her mess it up.

A soft bass began to beat. It was slow and gentle. She counted eight beats and then took the first step just as the orchestra joined in.

Everything after that was like a dream sequence. There was nothing to do but rely on muscle memory. Heart pounding. Blood rushing. Fire lashed from her hands. Colors swirled under bright lights. Strong hands threw her, caught her, spun her. Dizzy. Don't forget to smile. Faster, faster, faster.

Underneath the haze and the frenzy of it all, Kiriko was enjoying herself. Familiar faces whizzed by as the dancers moved around each other. The deep bass thrum seemed to reverberate inside her rib cage and echo outward to fuse with her joints and muscles.

Surely it must end soon. She could barely breathe from the exertion and the heat that was building up around them. Hot bodies and hot fire, fanned by air, the water sizzling into steam where the streams crossed.

The music was a map and Kiriko followed its winding path until she heard the final phrase lead her into the last step. Everything went still. The lights returned to normal and all she could do was stand there and gasp for air.

The crowd went ballistic. All those finely dressed, high-class elites with their noses in the air cheered and clapped and whistled. On and on it went, the effusive praise a mind-melting din. Kiriko couldn't imagine that anything was better than this feeling. Surely, there was nothing else in the world that could top this exhilarated bliss.