The spring of Year 196 was a bit of a rough time for the Sato family.

SLAM

From her place on the couch, watching a popular sitcom, Kiriko winced and glanced over at Korra, who stood at the foot of the stairs pinching the bridge of her nose. The argument with Anisa had ended with the latter storming upstairs.

"Don't worry, I'm sure it's just a phase," Kiriko said helpfully. She grabbed a handful of popcorn and flipped to another channel, this one showing clips of old pro-bending championship matches. She had years' worth memorized and knew exactly when it had happened and who won.

"You don't have any plans to start sneaking out to party and drink, right? Because I don't think I can handle you both acting like this at the same time." Korra plopped down next to her and reached for some popcorn.

"Hey, get your own!" Kiriko protested with a playful shove.

"It is mine. I bought it, didn't I?"

"Fine. I guess you can have some. And no, I don't even like alcohol. Or loud parties."

"Or boys?" she teased. "What about girls?"

"No and no."

"Hm. Give it a few years."

Kiriko elbowed her. "Maybe I'll just be like this forever. You never know. Who says I have to have boyfriends or girlfriends?"

"No one." She patted Kiriko's leg. "You're perfect just the way you are."

"Thanks." It was hard not to feel smug. At least at this exact moment, she was the favored sibling who wasn't stressing her parents out.

"With one small exception."

"What…"

It hadn't been said in a serious tone, so she knew whatever was coming was going to be sarcastic.

"You drive Mama crazy when you call her by her name."

Kiriko rolled her eyes. Perhaps it was a silly rebellion, but it was also a harmless one. "I hardly ever do that. Only when it's the most convenient option. Anyway, it's her name. What's the big deal?"

"It's not that big of a deal, but it's weird when you call us—your parents—by our first names."

"Does it drive you crazy, too? Or just her?"

Korra just laughed. "I think it's hilarious." After another chuckle, she grew more serious. "But…it kinda hurts her feelings a little."

The light atmosphere in the room shifted in an instant. Kiriko swallowed hard. A piece of a kernel got stuck and she had to clear her throat a few times.

"It does?"

"Well, you know how she is… She's more sensitive than I am, even if she hides it. I think it just makes her sad, like you're saying you feel too grown up to be mothered."

"It's not that." She sighed and set the popcorn down next to her. "It's so stupid, really. You'll laugh."

"I'm ready to be entertained."

"I– I feel like a baby when I say 'Mama'. Like a toddler. But if I only call you both 'Mom', it'll be too confusing.

As expected, Korra burst out laughing. "Why– Why didn't you just tell us that? Instead of letting this drag on for almost three years, making us wonder what the heck was up with you while you stubbornly refused to explain yourself." She wiped tears from her eyes and reined herself in a little. "Spirits. It's not that serious, Kiriko. Just call us both 'Mom' if 'Mama' bothers you so much."

"Mom One and Mom Two?"

"Mom A and Mom K?" Korra suggested, making them both laugh this time. "Do you have any more pressing issues to get off your chest? Rather than let them build up for years?"

"Yeah, actually. I want to go to the doctor again so they can figure out what's wrong with me!"

"For the last time: There's nothing wrong with you. Three different doctors have said it. You're not old enough for them to be concerned. Just be patient."

"I've been patient for the last four, almost five years! I'm sick of being patient! My birthday is in two months. I'll be the only sixteen-year-old in the city who hasn't started puberty!"

"I'm sure that's not true."

"It's embarrassing."

"Hey." Korra turned to face her and forced her around to make eye contact. "Who cares what anyone else thinks?"

"I care…"

"Why?"

"How can you not know? Because of you." A reluctant tear, spawned from a sudden overload of emotion, slipped out unexpectedly. "I have a lot to live up to."

Korra was quiet for several long seconds. Finally, she took a deep breath and leaned forward to lay her forehead against Kiriko's. For just a moment, everything else faded.

"I'm sorry."

The response surprised Kiriko enough that she sat up straight. "Sorry? Why? It's not your fault. Just…the way it is."

"I never wanted you and Anisa to have to live in my shadow. That's why Mama and I have tried so hard to let you two chase your own passions. But sometimes I forget that other people watch you and have expectations that I can't control."

"It's not so bad…" Kiriko muttered. She was beginning to feel guilty for even bringing it up. "I know I'm…insecure about some things. Trust me, I'm aware. But pretty much everything else, I'm happy to tell people to mind their own damn business."

Korra laughed and squeezed her hand. "Good for you."

A month later, Anisa consented to pry herself away from her busy social life and celebrate her sixteenth birthday with family. For once, everyone was happy and getting along. Even Nik was behaving himself—more or less—thanks to his most recent obsession with engineering magazines. He was rarely seen without one rolled up in his pocket and another in his hand.

Everything was going great until just after dinner. Kiriko was on her way back from the bathroom with a mildly upset stomach when she began to feel very tired. Not just tired, but like a complete zombie. Without giving it much thought, she trudged up to her room to lie down for a bit.

A little while later, Anisa poked her head in. "Oh, there you are. What are you doing laying here in the dark?"

"I'm not feeling so great…"

Anisa walked over and put her palm on Kiriko's forehead for a couple of seconds. "I don't know why I bother," she said with a sigh. "You always feel hot to me. You want me to get Mom?"

"No… I just want to rest for a few minutes."

It was late enough that the curtains blocked out most of the remaining daylight. The room was full of deep shadows and Anisa was little more than a vague outline as she sat down at the foot of the bed and pulled her knees up.

"I don't need a babysitter," Kiriko joked, though it was half-hearted. "You can go back to your party."

"Eh. I'm kinda bored of it. Partying with my friends is more fun than sitting around talking to parental figures. And all any of them want to talk about is my mastery test tomorrow. I wish they'd just shut up so I don't have to think about it and be more nervous."

"I'm surprised what's-his-name isn't here."

"Actually, we broke up last week."

"Oh. Sorry. Why didn't you say anything?"

Anisa shrugged in the gloom. "Didn't think you cared that much."

Well, it was sort of true. Kiriko didn't give two shits about the guys themselves. However, she did care about her sister. "You can still tell me stuff. I mean, I don't want graphic details, obviously–"

A sharp snort came from the foot of the bed. "Graphic details? Of what? Kissing?"

"And…other things…"

"I haven't had sex."

"Oh. Really?"

"Really."

Kiriko let out a small awkward laugh, unsure of what else to say on the matter, but instantly winced. That brief tightening of abdominal muscles brought on an ache and she curled into a ball. "Ugh... I think I must've eaten something bad. This is starting to feel like that time I had food poisoning."

"Shit, I hope not, considering we all ate the same stuff." She sighed and got up. "I guess I better tell them. I'll get you a bucket, just in case."

All Kiriko wanted was to be left alone so she could rest and hopefully sleep off this sickness, but both Korra and Raniq came up to check on her.

"I don't think you have a fever," Raniq mused. "Do you feel sick to your stomach?"

"Yeah. It hurts and I feel like I wanna throw up."

And she did—twice—during that long, sleepless night. Her moms took it in shifts to sit with her, bring her fresh hot water bottles for the ache, and try to get her to drink some broth. It was the worst pain she could remember feeling, ever, in her whole life.

"Alright," Asami said finally, around three in the morning when the pain had grown so bad that Kiriko was choking back sobs. "We're going to the hospital." She turned on the light and pulled back the blanket, then gasped. "Korra!"

The fear in her voice made Kiriko roll over and try to figure out what was going on. Dark red caught her eyes and she realized her shorts and the sheets around them were stained with blood.

Panic swept through her. Oh, Spirits. I'm dying. I'm dying. My organs are ripping apart inside me and leaking out.

"What?!" Korra called as she ran into the room. "What's wrong– Oh, shit!"

Kiriko wasn't able to pay attention to anything else they said. All she could do was sob, completely petrified, until a hand grabbed her shoulder firmly.

"Hey. Shh. Look at me," Asami soothed. "It's probably just your period."

"Wh– What?" That didn't make any sense. This felt like dying, not some normal, natural thing that would happen every month for the next few decades.

"But we're going to take you to the hospital, just in case."

Yes, hospital. Please. It wasn't until several seconds had passed that she realized the words never actually left her mouth. But it didn't matter because someone wrapped her up in a thick, scratchy blanket and picked her up like she was a child.

Hoping to drift off into oblivion, Kiriko was disappointed when everything seemed to sharpen for the trip there. Being carried to the car jostled her so much. The drive was too bumpy. When they finally got there, after what seemed like an eternity, the lights in the waiting room were far too bright.

It was only those basic sensations that she was aware of—them and the blinding pain in her gut. Time was irrelevant. The voices around her faded into the background. It was impossible to catch hold of the conversations. All she knew was that Korra held her. That familiar scent kept her grounded. The blue of her shirt and the brown of her skin were all Kiriko could see whenever her eyes cracked open.

More delirious waiting. And then…nothing. Blissful oblivion.

Some indeterminable amount of time later, she woke up to find that the pain was gone and she was able to lift her head up to look around. They were in a small room now. She lay on a stiff, uncomfortable hospital bed; Korra sat in a chair next to it.

"Hey," she said with a tired smile. "Feeling better?"

Kiriko looked down to find a needle stuck in her hand, attached to a narrow tube that was taped to the skin. "What's wrong with me?"

"Congratulations. You now have your very own menstrual cycle. Guess it wanted to make a dramatic entrance."

"Huh." After a moment of trying to process the information, she peered at her mom skeptically. "Are you sure?"

"Well, the best midwife in the city examined you. I think I trust her judgment. She did an ultrasound and blood tests and everything."

"But this– this cannot be normal."

"No, you're right. She said you might have a condition that makes it worse than usual."

Kiriko flung herself back onto the pillow. "What happened to you and every doctor telling me there was nothing wrong with me?"

"There was no way for them to know. Even the midwife said she'll have to run some more tests to be sure."

Scared tears filled her eyes and she squeezed them shut. The experience had been worse than any nightmare. "I can't live like that! Every month?" she said desperately. "I know I wanted this, but not like this ! Why can't I just be fucking normal!"

"Kiriko–"

"It's not fair!"

A weight pressed down the mattress at her side and she opened her eyes to find Korra sitting there. "I'll excuse you for being a drama queen because it's been a rough night, but if you'd just let me explain, maybe I could help you feel a little better."

"I doubt it."

"Alright, smartass," she said with a smirk. "Our doctor will probably put you on birth control pills. That should bring you back into 'normal' territory."

"Great, so I'll have to take pills for the rest of my life. Don't those have side effects?"

"They can. I've never taken them, so you're better off asking the midwife or doctor. Or Raniq, if that makes you more comfortable."

"Yeah." That was an encouraging thought. "Yeah, I'll visit Zaofu and talk to her."

With some of her concerns assuaged, there was now room for relief and even pride to flood in. And while it didn't feel quite like she always thought it would—she certainly didn't feel grown up all of the sudden—it did feel like a big leap forward.

I'm not a child anymore, and no one can say that I am.

A month later, school was out for the summer and Kiriko was once again suffering. The hospital's midwife had coordinated with her family doctor and they decided it was best to wait and make sure that first time hadn't been an isolated case.

As it turned out, it wasn't.

"Please, just kill me now," she complained through gritted teeth, knowing she'd be in fetal position in an hour or so. As it was, she was already curled up on her side on the couch.

"Here, take these." Asami held out her palm, which had two little pills, and offered a glass of water. "It'll help with the pain and make you sleepy."

Kiriko quickly downed them and pressed the hot water bottle against her aching gut. "Worst. Birthday. Ever."

"I know, hun. I'm sorry."

It wasn't even her birthday that she cared about. Sure, it was nice to celebrate. Hang out with her friends. Have dinner with family. Get presents. All that good stuff. But that happened every year, and sixteen wasn't any kind of special milestone.

No, it was the loss of tomorrow that she mourned. Her firebending mastery test had been scheduled for months . And now she wasn't going to be able to do it for at least another week.

"Look on the bright side: Now Mom won't miss your test!"

Kiriko pushed herself to a sitting position, legs folded under her, and nestled into Asami's side. Being unwell always made her feel years younger; a comforting arm wrapped around her helped, even if only a little.

"She wasn't supposed to miss it, in the first place," she said stubbornly. Resentfully.

"You know how her life is. C'mon. This is nothing new. Things come up. She can't control that."

"I know. Doesn't make it any better." Doesn't make it any easier to sleep at night when she's gone.

"I miss her, too."

Anisa walked in then and wordlessly plopped herself down. She threw one leg over the couch's armrest, leaned back against Kiriko, and proceeded to flip through the channels.

Kiriko pursed her lips in annoyance. "Hey, I was watching that." But it was a half-hearted complaint.

"Hardly. Anyways, I'm tired of watching pro-bending all the time. Don't you ever get sick of watching the same matches over and over again?"

"Nope. It's comforting."

"Well, I want to watch something else." She wriggled around a little to get comfortable and lay her head back on Kiriko's shoulder. "Spirits, you're so bony."

"Then don't use me as a pillow."

Asami sighed, though there was a flicker of amusement in it. "It never ceases to amaze me how you two can still argue even when you're getting along."

"It's because you were an only child," Anisa retorted as she wedged a throw pillow between her and Kiriko. "Don't try to understand it." She finally settled on a documentary about how various household items were made.

"Oh, this looks interesting," Asami said, quite sincerely. "Since when do you like this sort of thing?"

"I dunno."

Kiriko was comfortable enough now that drowsiness was beginning to creep in, but she roused herself enough to smirk and say, "I know. It's because Arun likes it and you want to impress him."

"I don't need to impress him," Anisa said loftily. "He's already very impressed by how cool and popular and talented I am." But she couldn't seem to take herself seriously because she started laughing before the words were fully out of her mouth. "Now shush. I'm trying to listen."

Ten days later, the stars aligned and one of the most perfect days of Kiriko's life was born into existence.

It began with their chef making her favorite thing for breakfast: hotcakes smothered in berry syrup with as much juicy rockmelon as she could eat.

"Geez, don't make yourself sick," Anisa said as she daintily cut hers into bite-sized pieces. "Unless you wanna be spewing melon all over the place at your test."

"Please. It's not for hours. This'll be long gone by then."

For the first time in weeks, all four of them enjoyed breakfast together. She looked around at her family with a contented smile. Korra caught her eye and smiled back.

"Are you nervous?" Anisa asked.

"Nope."

"I don't believe you. I was so nervous for mine. Didn't help that I couldn't sleep the night before because we all thought you were dying."

The emotion was too complicated to articulate. There was definitely a sense of anticipation. Excitement. A surge of something would ripple through her whenever she thought about it, but it wasn't fear or even anxiety. Never had she felt more confident in her own skills. Since spring didn't have pro-bending or dance rehearsals, she'd been able to devote every second of free time to honing her traditional forms.

"I'm ready. I've been ready." I'm definitely ready for you to stop lording it over me that you're a master and I'm not.

"You're gonna smash it," Korra said with a nod.

"And then you'll teach me lightning?! Finally?"

"I did promise."

Really, that was the main reason Kiriko was so excited. Passing the mastery test would be satisfying, but it was little more than a piece of paper that would allow her to teach traditional firebending as an official master, should she choose to.

No, it was simply the gateway to learning a coveted technique that was considered too dangerous for minors. In fact, there was a law that no one under seventeen could learn it unless they got special permission from their parents. Korra had always maintained that Kiriko must pass her mastery test first.

That day was finally here.

It was scheduled for 2:00 pm. The rest of the morning dragged on slowly. Kiriko knew the test would require all her energy, so she refrained from training. Instead, she did something she usually hated.

She meditated.

Around noon, Korra came outside and joined her on the back patio. "Here. You should eat a little something."

Kiriko took the offered sandwich—buttered toast with tuna and tomato. Nice and light. She ate the whole thing in four bites.

They sat facing each other in a lotus position, eyes closed, for several silent minutes. It was just like the other hundreds of times she'd meditated with her mom, except totally different at the same time.

For once, the sounds of birds didn't distract her. There were no random itches to pull her focus. There was just…breath. The air around her was hot. Sweat dripped down the back of her neck and it only barely flitted across her awareness.

A clear sky overhead seemed to open up and swallow her whole. The sun at its zenith—so bright, even through closed eyes. Breathe. In and out. An endless cycle, a solar storm. And she sat with Korra in the center of it.

Kiriko let her eyes drift open. Her mother's face was as tranquil as she could ever remember seeing it. But where had those lines around her eyes and mouth come from? When had that happened?

"Mom."

"Mm?"

"Will you take me into the Spirit world?"

Korra finally opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times. "Really?"

"I'm ready to try again. I think– I think I can do it this time."

She'd been through the portal a few times. It was right there in the city, after all—a highly regulated tourist attraction. Korra had never wanted to take them too deeply in, so it hadn't been as exciting as it could've been.

Anisa had meditated in loads of times, with Korra guiding her, but every time Kiriko had attempted it, she'd failed miserably—to the point where the mere suggestion of trying would piss her off.

In answer, Korra held out her hands, which Kiriko took. There was no need for words; they'd done this many times. Calluses gripped calluses. The summer heat seemed to ripple between them on a breath of wind as she closed her eyes and tried to find her earlier tranquility.

It came more easily than expected. All she had to do was focus on those hands. The hands that had carried her, held her, fed her. Picked her up when she fell. Wiped her tears away. Hands that had fought off countless enemies to make the world a better place. Hands that were as gentle as they were strong.

She was falling, but slowly.

"Open your eyes, Kiriko."

They fluttered open with a soft gasp. "I did it…" She looked around and swallowed hard. The grass they sat on was a vibrant green—a vast meadow with rolling hills and a distant forest. The sky was a burnt orange, like sunset but far too bright, and a flock of rainbow-colored birds with huge wings flew overhead. "Well, I guess technically, you did it."

"It wasn't just me. I can't force someone into the Spirit world, only guide."

Though she already knew exactly what would happen, Kiriko stood up and tried to summon her chi. "This feels…weird. It's like I'm empty."

"Yeah, that feeling doesn't go away."

"I feel so vulnerable."

"Don't worry. I won't let anything bad happen."

The confident smile she flashed made all of Kiriko's concerns evaporate in an instant.

"I'm not afraid. Not with you here."

"C'mon. Let's take a walk."

They strolled through the grassy meadow, hand-in-hand. Kiriko looked around in wonder. Everything felt so big, so open and colorful and endless, and she was so small.

"Where are we? It's different than when we went through the portal."

"This is a secret place. A hidden place." Her large hand gave Kiriko's much smaller one a squeeze. "I found it years ago, before you were born."

Kiriko peeled her eyes away from the bizarre sight of what looked like a tree slowly roaming across the open space. She craned her neck to look up at Korra, who no longer had lines around her eyes. It was a vision out of the deep past, back to Kiriko's earliest memories.

They stopped walking and Korra crouched down to be at her eye level. She took Kiriko's head in her hands and pressed their foreheads together.

"If, one day, you can't find me," she whispered, "look for me here."

"Don't cry, Mommy," Kiriko said when she noticed the tears, though her own eyes were welling up. "You won't get lost."

They separated and Korra's hands fell to her shoulders. There was now a strange, distant look in her eyes. Her attention was elsewhere. "Time to go, Fireheart."

"Go where?"

But the question didn't need to be answered. A thick fog rushed in and swirled around them. Kiriko squeezed her eyes shut, scared for just a moment, and opened them again to find herself back in her body. She was tall and strong once again, no longer the child she had temporarily become. Chi flowed through her veins and chased away a lingering sense of loss. What had they been talking about? Like a dream, it kept slipping out of her grasp.

Asami was crouched next to Korra with a hand on her shoulder, but it was Kiriko she spoke to with a fond smile. "It's almost time to go. Are you ready?"

The test was just as grueling as Kiriko knew it would be, but she was as fit as she'd ever been. Her body was a well-oiled machine—strong, controlled, agile. Countless hours of practice, of repeated failures, had eventually fine-tuned every muscle to do exactly what she wanted.

The kind of bending required for this test was much different than pro-bending. That was all kicks and punches, rolls and dodges. Light on your toes, never stop moving.

Traditional bending was far more complex, more like dancing, and it was by far Kiriko's preferred style. As much as she loved what pro-bending was as a whole—the lights and the crowd, the strategy and competition—this type of bending felt so much more elegant and complex. A vehicle for self-expression. A true art form.

Korra and Asami, plus the five judges—five masters—sat in the shade of a small gazebo and watched her silently, aside from their occasional instructions.

"Go through your basic forms."

"Now intermediate."

She went all the way up through advanced and finally, to the master forms. Those were actually complex sequences that each took around ten minutes to complete and there were no less than twelve of them. Kiriko was sweating profusely under the summer sun by the time they moved on to the practical application part of the test.

For that, she was attacked in waves: first one person, then three, then five.

"You must be in control," Korra had advised, weeks ago. "You're not just being tested on your ability to fight, but also your ability to hold back. To win without seriously hurting your opponent." After a moment, she winked. "But you can toss them around a little."

It was clear they were restraining themselves at first, as was she. Test the waters. Identify their strengths and weaknesses. Kiriko knew far more than just firebending, thanks to regular self-defense lessons; she knew how to watch for a person's tells—to see which side they favored and find patterns in the way they moved.

By the final wave, her opponents were clearly giving it their all. Frustrated. They were supposed to push her to her limits, not the other way around. It was almost enough to make her laugh aloud.

"Well, I must say," one of the judges said when it was over. "You certainly share your mother's…enthusiasm."

Kiriko grinned unabashedly and glanced at Korra, who gave her a thumbs up with both hands. "Thanks! Did I pass?"

A couple of the other judges smirked but didn't say anything.

"Yes, you passed," the judge said with a wry smile. "Congratulations, Master Kiriko."

The judges were gone and Kiriko stood in the gazebo with just her moms. They pulled her into a little group hug and it felt like the most perfect moment in the world. As much as she loved her sister, it was extra special to have this rare moment where she didn't have to share attention and affection.

"We are so proud of you," Asami murmured.

"You kicked ass out there," Korra added.

They all pulled back a little and chuckled, though they didn't let go of each other. Kiriko grinned at both of them; she was taller than Korra now, but still a couple of inches shy of Asami's height.

"Alright, I'm ready for lightning now. You promised!"

"Right now?" Korra laughed and shook her head. "I don't think so."

Kiriko let out an indignant scoff. "But–"

"You're way too tired. It's a dangerous technique. You'll need to be fresh and focused."

"I don't feel tired at all!"

"It's the adrenaline," Asami said sagely. "Your body is lying to you."

That turned out to be painfully true. Once the high wore off—about five minutes later—it was hard to even stay upright. By the time she got home, all she could do was fall face-first onto the sofa.

Some hours later, she woke to find herself in bed, hungrier than she thought she'd ever been in her life. On the way to the kitchen to rummage for dinner leftovers, she saw light trickling through the door of Asami's office.

"Mom?" she said, pushing the door open.

Asami glanced up from the papers on her desk. "Oh, hey, hun."

"What time is it?"

"It's, uh… Oh, wow. I didn't even realize. It's two in the morning." She massaged her temples and sighed. "We saved some dinner for you. It's in the fridge."

"Is everything okay?"

"Mm, yeah… Nothing for you to worry about. Just the typical stress of running a large business." She stacked all the pages together and filed them away in the cabinet next to her desk. "It just never ends."

While Kiriko had always been aware of how busy both her moms were, and how much their jobs consumed them, she'd never given much thought to how it might affect her own future.

She walked further into the room and sat down at one of the chairs in front of the desk. "What will happen to Future Industries when you're tired of running it and want to retire?"

"Well…assuming neither you nor Anisa suddenly develop an interest in taking over, I'll appoint someone on my board of directors to become the CEO."

There was something in her voice that made Kiriko feel a pang of guilt. "Are you disappointed that we haven't wanted to do that?"

The question seemed to surprise her, though she didn't answer right away. "My father raised me with the expectation that I would take over from him one day, and I never once questioned it. It was a great source of pride, but…also a huge burden, especially for a teenager." She leaned back and idly cracked her knuckles. "When you and Anisa were born, Mom and I sat down and had a long talk about the future. And we agreed not to push either of you down a specific path."

The response was spoken so deliberately, as if each word were chosen with great care. It didn't seem to answer Kiriko's question at all, and for a moment, she debated on whether or not to press the issue.

Maybe I'm better off not knowing. Instead, she chose to say something that she hoped would cheer her mom up. "I've been thinking... Now that I'm a master, it would make a lot of sense to teach firebending one day. I figure, since pro-bending isn't year-round, I'll need something else to do the rest of the year. Maybe you could teach me a little about running a business."

Asami's eyes lit up and all the weariness seemed to melt away. "I would love that."

Kiriko slept past noon the next day. Upon waking up and realizing how late it was, she sprinted downstairs with rapidly growing regret and disappointment. Surely, Korra would've left by now. They'd planned to train in the morning because she had a big, important meeting with the president that afternoon.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," she said from her usual chair when Kiriko burst into the living room.

"You're still here!"

"Yup. I blew off my meeting. Told him I had more important things to do."

Kiriko could only stand there and gape for a second. "No way. I don't believe you."

"Man… That always worked when you were little. You were so gullible. Now you've wizened up and I don't get to have fun anymore." She put her book down and got up. "He rescheduled the meeting. So I'm all yours today."

"Yes! Yessss! C'mon, let's go! Let's do this!"

"Okay, but not here."

Their driver took them away from the city and into the wild forests at the foot of the mountains. A ways down a winding dirt road, the trees abruptly thinned to reveal a wide open space that looked like an old rocketball field that hadn't been used in years. And yet the space was clear of any weeds or debris.

They'd gotten some noodles on the way and Kiriko was full and happy by the time they arrived. Aside from the driver, who waited for them in the parking lot, Kiriko didn't think there was a soul around for miles. It was going to be a perfect afternoon.

"Are you really gonna make Judo sit there and wait this whole time?" she asked.

"I've made it worth his while. I don't want to get stuck here without a ride. I'd like to remind you—again—that lightning is super dangerous for both the student and the teacher." She dropped her duffel bag and pulled out thick leather padding. "Which is why we're gonna wear these."

It looked ridiculous.

Kiriko couldn't see herself, but Korra resembled a leather marshmallow with eyes. Getting to the point where either of them could stop laughing long enough to actually start training was an unexpected obstacle.

"Why do you need all that? Can't you just redirect it if a strike goes rogue?"

"Sure, if I'm fast enough. But I've learned over the years that taking unnecessary risks just isn't worth it. And you, my dear, are unpredictable when you learn something new. How embarrassing would that headline be? 'Avatar Korra hospitalized by her teenage daughter'."

They both laughed again, though Kiriko was also rolling her eyes. She didn't really believe she could actually do anything to hurt Korra—accidentally or otherwise. Especially right now.

"How am I supposed to move in all this?"

"You won't need to move much. Lightning generation is one of those things that's unique to the bender. Everyone has their own style, their own motions that work best. But learning how to do it is less about movement and more about finding a balancing point between your chi and your mental state. It's not a martial art. It's a precision tool…and a deadly weapon."

The brief speech was sobering, but Kiriko was mostly consumed with thinking about how much confidence her mom seemed to have that she'd get it right away. She was still riding the high of passing her test and was more sure of herself than usual, but her track record for learning new techniques wasn't exactly stellar. It usually took weeks, if not months, to make any significant progress.

"Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart," Korra continued as she casually circled. "And relax. Focus on breathing and keeping your muscles loose."

"This is like meditating standing up," Kiriko muttered, though she obeyed.

"The two things aren't totally unrelated. Yesterday, you had great success with meditating. Try to find that serenity again, but this time, focus on the air around you. Not the heat, or the sun, but the energy that connects all living things. Did you know that our bodies have a slight electrical current?"

"Yeah, I learned that in biology class."

"Well, from a less scientific standpoint, that energy represents the opposing forces that fuel our chi—yin and yang. You channel both of them together through your body to create fire and manipulate it. Lightning is different. To make it, you have to pull those energies apart." She stopped walking and stood right in front of Kiriko. "The thing is, they don't want to be pulled apart. They want to stay together, and they'll rip the world apart to return to each other."

Kiriko couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Spirits, Mom. You're so dramatic. You act like there aren't hundreds of people in the city right now, shooting lightning at generators to power the city. They do it as casually as a builder swings his hammer at a nail."

"Just because they've mastered the technique to the point where they can do it without much effort or thought doesn't make anything I've just said untrue. If you're not going to respect the seriousness of it, I won't teach you."

It had been a long time since Korra had taken such a tone with her. It wasn't angry, but there was a sharp edge of authority to it, laced with reproval. 'Mom voice' plus 'Avatar voice'. Kiriko instantly felt her face heat with shame.

"Sorry. I'll be quiet."

"I'm going to demonstrate. Stand back and pay attention."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. On the exhale, her hands came up to meet each other at shoulder height, fingertips just barely touching. With a slow but deliberate motion, they separated to form a crackling ball of white-hot static. Spiderwebbed lines of electricity danced between her outstretched fingertips for several long seconds before she abruptly flung it into the sky, where it exploded with a blinding flash and a deafening CRACK .

Kiriko couldn't help but flinch backward. "Shit!"

"Once you make it, you can't unmake it. It has to go somewhere."

"I understand. I want to try."

Korra took a deep stance and pulled a stout pillar of rock from the ground. "It's safer if you have a target to focus on. But I don't want you to try it the way I showed you. That was just so you could see how it forms in a controlled space. Here— Watch this motion. It's a good starting point."

The gesture was simple: two fingers pointed, drawing a curved line through the air. Kiriko mirrored it several times until it felt natural, and then Korra demonstrated with actual lightning. Sparks flew from her fingers and instantly shot out in a line right at the center of the pillar. It didn't do much damage—just a few small cracks.

"Instead of making your chi flow evenly through your body, focus it into your fingertips. It doesn't need to be a lot, but it does need to be concentrated. Imagine gathering up a handful and compressing it into a tiny ball."

Kiriko closed her eyes and did the motion. Over and over again. She tried to hold those instructions in her mind. Compress. Focus it in one place.

This was a normal process for her, and after about thirty solid minutes of repetition, she was still focused and determined. It was how she learned. Muscle memory. Nothing ever came easily. Repeat, repeat, repeat. An endless cycle until the movement was so deeply ingrained that she could begin to add the next layer.

Finally, she felt it: Her chi went right into her fingers and remained for several seconds before dissipating.

Another hour passed and she was able to hold onto it long enough to squeeze it into a tiny, ferocious speck of energy. Over and over again, she reached this point, only for it to slip from her grasp before she could figure out the next step. Only then did she express a sliver of frustration.

"What am I supposed to do next?" she growled.

"You can't just hold it," Korra said calmly. She was knelt down now, hands on her thighs, as relaxed as anyone could be in the thick padding. "Compression is not a natural state for chi energy. It wants to flow and swirl. You have to act quickly. Separate the energies and guide them away from you before they can snap back together."

There had never been a firebending technique that Kiriko hadn't been able to learn through slow but deliberate progress. Baby steps. She had to analyze each part until it made sense to her and became familiar; only then could she put it all together.

That was impossible here, where each step had to flow smoothly to the next without pause, without hesitation. Too fast. With every failure, that seed of frustration grew until her attempts ended with accidentally setting the leather padding on fire.

"I think that's enough for today," Korra said at that point. "It's getting dark, anyway."

Kiriko looked around and realized she was right. They'd been out there for hours and the tall ring of trees around them brought on an early dusk.

She walked to the car with her head hanging in disappointment. While she hadn't truly expected to get it right away, the lack of progress stood out in stark contrast to her unquenchable confidence from passing the mastery test with flying colors. There had been some small hope that maybe, just maybe , this one thing would come easily to her. That the serenity she'd found yesterday while meditating had changed her in some fundamental way.

Korra wrapped her arm around Kiriko's waist and gave her a brief squeeze. "Don't worry, you'll get it. You're nothing if not determined. It'll just take some diligent practice."

"It's the hardest thing I've ever tried to do."

"I know. Why do you think I made you wait so long?"

"I thought mastering all the other techniques would at least give me a head start here. But it's like I'm starting from zero."

Korra laughed softly as they climbed into the backseat together. "You may be a master, but you're a long way from knowing everything there is to know about firebending. That test was just the beginning."