Chapter Text
It’s a difficult morning.
With last night’s dream leaving Korra’s heart aching, she finds the task of talking to her parents even more daunting. Her body flows through the motions as she packs her things, including her letter from last night and gets ready for the day ahead.
It starts off with a simple breakfast alongside Tenzin’s family. Korra doesn’t add too much to the morning conversation. Any sense of the present is pulled back into her state of reverie.
Jinora whispers to her, “You look like you need to use the bathroom or something.” The comment draws Korra into the moment as she realizes how furrowed her brows are.
She replies, “Those wooden beds are not for the weak,” referring to the traditional harder bed frames used on the island. It’s an easy lie.
As breakfast finishes, she pulls her parents aside into the same gazebo she stood in last night with Asami. Instead of a comfortable night, the morning proves to be more violent as the sun rays cast over the horizon and hit the island while the morning breeze feels merciless. Or Korra just doesn’t like the mornings.
Tonraq starts, “Is everything okay, Korra?”
She breathes out in response, steeling herself for what’s to come. She starts,“I’ve had some relapses recently.” Both her mother and father open their mouths to speak, eyes full of concern, but Korra continues, “It’s been weird though. It started off with some dreams and some usual stuff, but yesterday was weird, and I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner, honey?” Tonraq reaches out for Korra’s shoulder, and unlike yesterday, she invites his comfort.
“I don’t know. Maybe because I was confused. I-I still am. It just seems like all this is coming out of nowhere.”
Senna asks, “When did this start?”
Korra recounts the first time another dream happened right before her contract signing. She doesn’t describe in depth about her other dreams or any details about the woman that’s been haunting them, but tells them the most recent ones were very different. They didn’t end in gunfire and explosions anymore. She didn’t wake in fear anymore, but she was overcome with a plethora of emotions that made her chest tight and her mind mangled.
“Should you start seeing Katara again?” Tonraq suggests.
She hasn’t been back to the South since she arrived in Republic city a few years ago, and thinking about it now feels like reopening a closed wound. She replies with, “I don’t think going back South would help. I-I think I can handle this actually.”
Her parents look on with concern, but don’t argue against Korra’s proclamation. They embrace their daughter as Senna says, “We’re always here, honey.”
As they pull away from one another Korra starts, “Actually there is something else that’s been on my mind though.” She pulls out her bracelet and notes her parents' surprised demeanor. “I know you’ve told me a million times you made this for me, but I-,” Korra doesn’t know how to proceed as she rubs her thumb over the violet thread. “Were you lying to me about this?” She looks up to see her parents' looking at each other with unrecognizable expressions.
“What makes you think that, Korra?” Tonraq deflects.
“Just answer me truthfully, Dad.”
Tonraq takes a deep breath as Senna nods with her hand on his shoulder. He says simply, “You made it, Korra.”
Korra blinks slowly and inhales to ground herself. So many more questions run through her mind, but she settles on asking, “Why’d you lie?”
“Look, sweetie, After you got hurt, there were a lot more things we had to do in order to protect you.” Tonraq looks over at Senna for encouragement. “Those, bracelets, you made-.” He continues speaking, but his voice is drowned out as Korra realizes he’s acknowledging the existence of multiple bracelets. “-We were just trying to keep you safe.”
Korra looks to her parents as her lips form into a sad smile and nearly whispers, “I know.”
From what Korra can recall from the conflict, her parents’ priority was always her safety. She’d always had a personal guard and strict rules about where and when she was allowed to be in different areas. Hearing her parents now let in a new flood of old emotions. Her resentment and fear of everything.
It was a hard time for all of them.
Looking down at the bracelet in her hand leads her back into the present. Her parents’ eyes still painted with concern. She shakes her head wanting to lighten the mood and hugs her parents. “I love you guys,” she finishes.
Korra didn’t want her last words with her parents to be hurtful or charged. She wanted them to go back home feeling some semblance of assurance in her well being. Which is why she held back the torrent of questions and accusations she had on hand.
Why were they still not telling the entire truth? Were there other things about her life they’d simply made up for convenience?
These are some of the many questions that still ring through her mind as she lands several punches and kicks onto a punching bag several days later.
“Dude, we’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Mako’s voice cuts through her murky thoughts.
Peeking past the bag, both brothers stand in the corridor at the entrance of the small room. A room Korra found tucked away from the rest of the gym a few days ago, and had since made it her home to hash out all her thoughts till she was too physically exhausted to think anymore.
“We have another fitting at the tower,” he states frankly. “What’s been up with you?”
Korra shakes away her thoughts as she unwraps her hands. The brothers’ stares obviously trying to decipher any more meaning out of her actions.
“Stop staring at me like I’m an injured baby animal thing,” she states as she throws the rest of her belongings into her gym bag. Turning back towards the brothers she recites exasperatedly, “I’m fine.”
Back in the CEO Suite of Future Industries Tower, Korra notices a lot more about the large space this time around. The dark wood tones and leather seats create a warmth adjacent to an old library, and considering the small wall of books behind Asami’s desk, it seems the young CEO is quite the reader.
Korra has always assumed a lot about Asami from afar, but the organized chaos of her office tells a different story than one of some prissy, elegant, rich, girl.
There are papers spread across her desk accompanied by several different colored highlighters as well as another stack of binders and three pairs of eyeglasses. On the couch at the side of the room several garments lay across its back alongside a small blanket.
Bolin interrupts Korra’s observations, “So why do we have our fittings here again?” Opal raises from her crouched position as she holds several garments and her brow arches in response as he continues, “I don’t know, I just thought this building was so huge so-”
Opal sighs, her apparent professional and colder exterior melting away at Bolin’s candor.
“I’m only saying this because I trust you guys,” she responds sincerely, “and you’ve also signed an NDA so if any of this goes public I’d know where it came from.” The end of her sentence cuts as a threat. “Since Asami has taken over Future Industries, there have been several issues with employees trying to steal proprietary information. As many people there are that want to see Asami succeed, there are double the amount that want to see her fail. It’s no secret that she’s sponsoring your team, but everything here and all the tech going into your uniforms is confidential so Asami would rather keep all this as close to home as possible.”
The three fighters nod along to Opal's explanation. Korra thinks back to Asami’s disheveled state last time they’d seen eachother in the suite. She thinks about how different she looked under the soft glow of string lights as she ate her share of food and didn’t say a word till she was finished.
Bolin’s voice breaks any looming tension as he states, “Your secrets are safe with us.” It earns him another smile from Opal as she shakes her head.
The fitting goes as expected - to Korra’s disappointment - without a visit from a specific green eyed individual. This time around, the uniform fits like a glove, and instead of the orange that washed out Korra’s warm skin, a new blue hue compliments her perfectly.
Coming out of the bathroom she discovers the office empty. Mako and Bolin seem to still be getting into their gear based on their voices still coming from the other side room.
Korra finds herself drifting back to the clutter on Asami’s desk. Documents, schematics, and contracts litter the surface.
The three pairs of eyeglasses seem absurd, but they begin to tell their own story. One gets lost between the cushions on the couch, another one left in the bathroom by accident, leaving one on the desk. A silly but reliable system maybe.
Korra shakes her head at the thought when her eye catches something else on Asami’s desk.
It’s almost completely buried under the pile of other papers. The words Dear K, stand out amongst all the other text. Its letters are organic and soft against all the other structured ink.
Her hand reaches out instinctively-
“Hey sorry, I had to grab my tablet from my office,” Opal looks up as her eyes squint in the slightest at seeing Korra by Asami’s desk.
Before Opal can get out a threat Korra clears her throat, “Sorry I thought I saw a spider or something.”
”Sure,” Opal says, walking over to create space between Korra and the desk. “I’d say something more threatening, but you’re lucky Asami likes you,” she finishes just as the boys come out. Opal could have said a lot of things to scare Korra at that moment. None of them would have had the same effect. “Anyways, I’m gonna have you guys move around in the gear and gauge areas that can be better tailored.”
She continues to speak, explaining things about the material and the patterns, but Korra’s brain is stuck. Stuck to the words Opal spoke so easily.
Korra has not seen Asami since Ikki’s celebratory dinner three weeks ago. She’d quietly wished to catch more glimpses of the other woman, and after Opal’s comment that desire only grew.
Instead her days were full with training sessions alongside Tenzin as well as her new trainer, a stocky man named Kel. Between the two of them, Korra could feel her body becoming faster and stronger. When she wasn’t with them, she would retreat into that small room she’d found in a hidden corner of the gym. Besides fittings and mandatory meetings, she’d also avoided the brothers.
She told herself it was easier this way. She just needed to tuff it out until this funk went away. How or when it would go away were questions for later. Or now.
Tonight is Korra’s first fight wearing the Future Industries’ logo. It’s a smaller event. One of a handful of fights to help shake out all the jitters for the tournament next year.
Unfortunately the funk is still here and she’s getting her ass kicked.
Her body slumps into her corner. Kel is shaking her shoulders and harsh words spill out of his mouth. Tenzin is there too, trying to add more constructive criticism to this one sided conversation as Korra tries to blink herself back into focus.
It never comes.
Back in the ring, the only thing she sees coming is her opponent’s well timed kick to her head before everything turns black.
-
It’s not a dream.
Her dreams are always coated in a layer of hope and frustration and confusion. Now her lens is clear of any haze. A simple clarity.
She sees herself through a mirror, but instead of a woman built of taught muscle, she sees a girl with cheeks still full and eyes still bright. They shine with excitement and a hint of apprehension. She couldn’t be older than twelve. In her palm sits a pair of familiar bracelets.
She takes in a breath to compose herself before crawling out of her window and sneaking down another story to flat ground. Her feet crunch on top of hard snow.
“Hey,” a voice whispers from around a corner, accompanied with the wave of a pale hand.
Korra follows the sound, her heart thumping with giddy. Turning the corner, hidden under an arc of ice is another young girl. Her black hair is tucked under a burgundy hat and scarf. The parts of her cheeks that are visible are pink from the cold, and her pale green eyes glimmer with mischief.
“What was the excuse this time?” the other girl asks, as she pulls her scarf down.
“Told them I needed a nap,” Korra shrugs as her eyes dart nervously. She stutters, “I made you something.” The other girl’s eyebrows and cheeks perk at the proclamation, and Korra extends her hand.
The other girl’s eyes sparkle with the reflection of violet as she takes one of the bracelets. Korra’s body tenses as her fingers graze her hand.
The girl gasps as a smile grows on her face. “It’s beautiful,” she says as she slips it over her wrist.
“We can match,” Korra offers her a smile in return as she tightens the bracelet over her own wrist.
The other girl doesn’t speak any other words, and Korra swears she sees the corners of her lips dip into a frown.
“Did I-.” Before any more words can escape, the other girl barrels towards her and drowns her in a warm embrace. Korra’s lips instantly curve into a smile as she wraps her own arms around the other girl.
“I’ll always have a piece of you now,” the other girl says into Korra’s shoulder.
“Always, Asami.”
Korra wakes as if a light is switched on in the middle of a hurricane. The air is full of concerned shouts and ruffling. Korra can’t see anything except a blurring light.
There’s a shout, “She’s awake!” and the light disappears only to be replaced with muddied silhouettes.
Everything comes flooding back to her. She’d just lost her first fight of the season in an embarrassing knock out in the third round.
Her breaths come back rough. Her ribs ache and her head pounds.
She hears Tenzin’s voice ward off bystanders as the shadows disperse from her view. The intense buzz of chatter has calmed to an easy hum.
Korra tries to prop her elbow under herself as a firm hand stops her.
A voice holds her there, “It’s best if you just stay still for a few more minutes.”
She obeys the order as her chest puffs for a deep breath. It’s supposed to be a calming act, but the pain in her ribs force her eyebrows to furrow, and the hand on her shoulder squeezes warmly.
Korra lies there for what feels like an eternity. The comforting hand is no longer there, and the sweat from her skin melts into the octagon platform. The shadows surrounding her are more clear as she can make out Tenzen and Kel, but her eyes focus on the far off ceiling of the small arena. She can make out the shapes of air ducts and concentrates on following their routes.
Before she knows it her body is being pulled onto a stretcher.
“Hey, I think I’m fine-,” she begins to protest, but is stopped by the blooming of an intense headache. She surrenders herself then.
-
Korra’s always hated hospitals. They’ve always served as a reminder of her accident, of her mortality. The devoid walls had a way of draining her body of any strength, always making her feel weaker.
Now, it is no different. Her ribs radiate pain as her head pounds softly in the silence of the room. Tenzin is there by her bedside. His lips are tight.
“Hey, Kiddo,” He starts.
Korra blinks to try and lighten the pounding in her head. She replies, “It was that bad, huh?”
A silence hangs between them as Tenzin’s stormy eyes search Korra’s. He breaks the quiet, “I’ve seen you fight since you were a child, Korra. This was not you tonight.” He squeezes her hand. “We will talk once you are feeling better,” he says as he stands. Before exiting he turns with a sad smile and finishes, “I’m always here Korra.”
And then she’s alone again.
It isn’t long until a nurse comes in followed shortly by a doctor. It’s a relief when she’s diagnosed with a minor concussion and bruised ribs. Nothing she couldn’t physically recover from, but she would have to stay the night for monitoring.
In the next hour a flow of visitors come by.
Mako and Bolin come by and jokingly tell her how horrible she did. It’s nice though. Their conversation stays light and easy. When they leave she sees the sadness in their eyes and smiles. A kind of guilt perhaps. Korra shakes her head at them as they leave. She’ll be okay.
Tenzin’s kids also come by and flood Korra’s bedside. They fight over her attention, each trying to tell her about random things they’ve learned or stories they’ve heard. Just as it becomes a little overwhelming, Pema is there to shoo them out.
Before leaving herself, she reaches and squeezes Korra’s hand, “Tenzin will be here tomorrow morning to help with discharging you. Get some rest, Korra. We’re always here.” She smiles sweetly and leaves.
In the hall Korra can hear the chatter of the children fade as they get further and further away, and it’s quiet again.
Looking at the clock it’s already 8:30 p.m. and visiting hours are over. Korra sighs and switches the lights off, only leaving the warm glow of a side lamp on. Hospital nights are always long.
Sleep doesn’t come. She lies there restlessly trying to conjure up thoughts that may lull her into a restful slumber, but there’s nothing. Simply the replay of her memory with Asami. A short snippet that seemed to piece so much together.
Korra’s thoughts are cut when there is a gentle knock on her door. It clicks open softly. She sighs anticipating another nurse before seeing that the intruder is no nurse at all.
“Asami?” confusion tangles in her speech as her brows knit and she lifts up on her elbows. The soft pounding in her head is now only a slight ache.
Her hair is tied up messily. She’s wearing glasses and her regular work attire except wrinkles litter the fabric most people would see in pristine condition. She seems worn by the day.
“Hey,” she says warmly approaching Korra’s bed side. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I actually couldn’t really sleep anyways,” she replies, seeing that it’s already nearly 10:30 p.m. “Why are you here so late? How'd you get in?” she asks.
Instead of responding Asami lets the quiet come as she offers a sheepish smile and takes a seat next to Korra’s bedside. She sighs and her shoulders drop, finally relaxed.
She starts, “I saw the fight.”
Korra puffs out a deflated laugh, “Pretty bad, huh? I wouldn’t blame you if you pulled out of the sponsorship now.”
It’s meant to strike as a joke, but Asami’s brows furrow, not amused at all. “Korra,” she says her name sternly before her features soften, and she continues, “Are you okay? I’ve never seen you go down like that.”
“It’s fine,” she deflects, “just a minor concussion and some bruising.”
Asami only hums in response as she turns to face the wall opposite Korra’s bed. They sit there for a few minutes before Asami stands up with a sigh.
Her eyes find Korra’s and her lips are pulled into a tight smile. Her eyes glimmer, holding in more than what she says next. “I hope you know that I don’t only care about you because of the sponsorship and money and the likes. You aren’t just some dollar sign to me, Korra.” She exits the room before Korra can give any kind response.
A new pain tightens itself around her chest.
Sleep eventually comes to drown out Korra’s physical aches, but when she wakes the coil around her chest along with the subtle pang of her head and ribs is still there.
Regardless, Korra’s grateful for how fast the morning comes. Tenzin is there at the check out desk as expected, but a small bouquet of flowers also stands next to him in a delicate vase alongside a card.
“These are for you,” Tenzin says simply before turning back towards the receptionist.
The card reads.
Dear Korra,
Wishing you a speedy recovery! Call my office if you need anything.
Love, A