Chapter Text

Year One

In the mornings, Asami runs. She follows the winding river bank on the outskirts of the city, clings to that sensation of riding Naga out towards the mountains. She sprints until she can't breathe, until all she can do is fumble to the ground and stare up at the sky. Her mind is clear in that moment, save for the pressure and sound of her pulse, save for her body gasping for air. Visceral needs. They ease her mind.

A week after Korra’s gone, Asami writes to her.

'Dear Korra, I hope you're well. You and Katara have a lot to work through, but I know you can do it. I want you to know that we're all rooting for you here. Be safe, and be strong, and we can't wait to see you again...'

She offers her estate to Mako and Bolin's family - the whole crowd of them. The boys have been trying their best to house them, but they are running out of options. Asami is more than happy for the company. In an instant, the house transforms from an empty shell into a bustling sea of bodies and voices. It’s the massive rowdy family that she never had. They are welcoming, and loud, and grateful.

Asami returns to Future Industries, closing herself up in her office for privacy while she works. The presentation to Raiko is getting closer than she's comfortable with. Her days are filled with board meetings, contractor inspections, sessions with her engineering teams. It's tiring, but it keeps her focused on her goal. She needs to be ready for the proposal.

President Raiko accepts the plan, and they move forward immediately with construction. The plan will take two to three years to complete. Asami doesn't stay at the estate anymore; playing hostess to dozens of people takes it out of her. Sleeping at the office helps her get her work done.

Asami sends another letter after the first month.

'Dear Korra, I miss you. It's not the same in Republic City without you. How are you feeling? Things are going well here. I just got a big contract to help redesign the city's infrastructure, so I'll be keeping pretty busy for a while...'

Korra does not write back.

Asami and Naga keep a routine. They ride out to the edge of the city, and run as fast as they can. Faster and farther each day. They can almost reach the mountains before either of them is too tired to go on. They sleep in the grass. Being the CEO has its benefits; no one questions when she’s late to the office. Naga stays at the Sato Estate. It gives her more property to stretch her legs, gives Tenzin one less thing to worry about, gives Mako and Bolin's little cousins someone to play with. Asami likes having her close.

She writes to Senna. Korra's improved under Katara's guidance, apparently, but they've hit a wall in her recovery. She can stand, with some help, but she hasn't been able to walk on her own. She's tired; they all are. Being home has been relaxing for Korra, though. There's less pressure to be the Avatar. She can just be their daughter. She can focus on resting.

Asami writes to Korra again. Gently probing, hoping to spark a response. To learn something. To hear something. Does she have the energy to write back? Is she embarrassed to admit that moving South was not an instant fix? Does she even read Asami’s letters…

There is something oddly comforting in the fact that no one hears from Korra. Mako writes a few words of worry. Bolin...pontificates. Asami pleads for some sign of life. Silence is the worst reply she could receive. She imagines Korra in her chair: sad, quiet, and lost. Asami keeps the memory of their last night close: Korra's hand in hers, that feeling of letting the world just fall away. She should never have let go. She shouldn’t have accepted Korra’s ‘no’ when she’d asked to go with her.

Korra does not write back.

Asami’s assistant brings her a letter. It’s not from Korra. Her name is written on the envelope in her father’s scrawl. She doesn’t waste time wondering why Hiroshi is reaching out to her. The letter ends up in the bottom of her desk drawer.

She runs with Naga in the mornings. In the evenings, Asami returns to the Sato house and does laps in the pool. She pushes herself until she’s ragged.

Construction on the highways begins. She sketches another proposal to Raiko: additions to Republic City Park. She sketches a central statue from memory. Avatar Korra Park. When it's finished, she doesn't write to Korra about it. It looks too much like a memorial. Asami had wanted a tribute.

She has dinners with Mako, Bolin, and Opal again. Everyone is tired. The conversation doesn't turn to Korra.

'...Please let me know that you're alright. We're all thinking of you ...'

Korra does not write back.

Year Two

Gaiden is charming. All bright smiles and gentle words. He owns and operates a trio of fishing tankers that run between Republic City and the Fire Nation. He is tall, his hair buzzed short and bleached blonde. He knows that he's handsome. Work is his life; he shows little interest in political or current affairs. He doesn't know, or care to know, much about the Avatar. He doesn’t ask many questions. It's simple. His ships dock for several days, and then he’s gone for several weeks. Asami does not share Gaiden with her friends. They don't go on dates. They stay at his home off the docks, hiding from the noise of the city in their own little pocket of the world. He beats her at Pai Sho, but only just barely. It's quiet, but not lonely. He is just hers. She doesn't have to explain, or justify, or overthink. He understands how important Asami's work is, to the city and to her. He doesn't get the appeal of fast cars, but he keeps it to himself. Their time together is always brief, but Asami looks forward to the nights when she does not sleep alone.

Bolin leaves to join Kuvira's peacekeeping efforts. Asami has watched him struggle to find a place he can help. He knows if he joins up with the Earth Kingdom forces, that he can make a difference for his people in a meaningful way. Asami's proud of him for finding an outlet to feel part of something important. Dinners are quieter than usual without him. She doesn't see Mako and Opal as often.

Asami's assistant brings her a letter from her father. She tosses it in a drawer with the other.

Asami meets with President Raiko and his civic council every other week to discuss the construction efforts. The contractors keep her busy. She spends hours driving the new city streets as each is completed, memorizing them, getting a feel for the city as a living, breathing thing. The spirit vines - intertwining with load-bearing pillars and breaking up through the old pavement - make that image all the easier.

She takes Naga on a ride every week, but running the company takes most of Asami's time. Her office at Future Industries doubles as an apartment. She takes her meals over her desk, going through budgets and weekly progress reports. The roads are tricky when the vines decide to grow over their work. They abandon a few paths and have to re-plan and rebuild. Most days, she's up from before the dawn, till long after the sun has gone down.

Her assistant knows which drawer to leave the letters from her father. It’s a pile now.

Eiko is joyful. A erhu violinist who plays at a jazz club downtown. She is bold, and passionate, and lovely. Her eyes are a bottomless dark blue; they never tire of watching Asami while Asami watches her play. She asks wonderful questions, like where to take Asami dancing, and where in all of Republic City would she most like to be kissed. Her music brings Asami to tears: It's gorgeous, and human, and sad. Her son Ren is adorable. At five years old, he thinks Naga is the most exciting thing that he's ever scene. He shares time between Eiko and his father. He seems to like Asami. Asami laughs more with them than she has in a very long time. Asami takes half days off at work, and the three of them spend the summer going to the park, and to the movers. Eiko does not want anything serious. Asami says she understands.

Naga returns to Air Temple Island. There's plenty of room now that Tenzin has organized the airbenders into a peacekeeping force. Tensions are high with the Earth Kingdom’s authority crippled. Opal's gone much of the time, travelling throughout the Earth Kingdom to help maintain peace among the smaller villages.

Asami has dinners with Mako. It’s more for the company than for the conversation.

Before the sun rises, Asami runs alone, past the point where she wants to fall to the ground and sleep. She swims in the river.

President Raiko presents her with a commendation for Future Industries' efforts with the reconstruction. They completed months ahead of schedule. Another contract is drafted, this time to improve existing infrastructure. The process begins again. She sleeps at her desk, drafting plans.

Year Three

Rina is a distraction. She's beautiful, young, and confident. They spend their nights downtown, avoiding the jazz clubs, or at the coast, avoiding the docks. She has too many friends, and always wants to introduce the ‘gorgeous heiress’ on her arm. Asami doesn't know what Rina does, or where she lives. She’s simple. She asks Asami where she seems to always drift off to. Why she doesn’t laugh until her fourth drink or so.

Mako finds a position as security for the Earth Prince Wu. He pours himself into his duties, or rather, his duties seem to take over. He hasn’t left the city, but Asami doesn’t see much of him. They speak on the phone instead of going to dinner. His family is doing well. Asami doesn’t see much of them, either.

Asami has her dinners brought to her desk.

It's morning, and her assistant brings her a letter. Asami tosses it into the drawer, but the handwriting on the envelope catches her eye. She stares at her name for a long minute, written in Korra’s hand.

'Dear Asami, I'm sorry I haven't written to you sooner, but every time I've tried, I never know what to say. The past two years have been the hardest of my life. Even though I can get around fine now, I still can't go into the Avatar State. I keep having visions of Zaheer and what happened that day. Katara thinks a lot of this is in my head, so I've been meditating a lot, but sometimes I worry I'll never fully recover. Please don't tell Mako and Bolin I wrote to you and not them. I don't want to hurt their feelings, but it's easier to tell you about this stuff. I don't think they'd understand.'

Asami reads the letter three, four, five times. She pushes back tears. Korra has only written her. She trusts her. The letter shatters the wall she's built around herself. That night, she responds.

'Dear Korra, I know how difficult it is to feel alone in your thoughts. Republic City is full of people, so how is it I feel like there’s no one to talk to? Everyone here is drifting apart. I miss you. Tell me you'll be home soon...'

A week later, Korra writes she's taking more time. She wants to come back to Republic City, but she still has to work though some things.

'...Katara thinks that a retreat will help me center myself. I'll be heading to the southern spirit portal. I will be out of touch, but I will write as soon as I can..."

There is no one else.

In the mornings, Asami drives out to the river and runs till she loses her own balance.

Tensions are high in the city. Protesting Wu's legitimacy, Kuvira's supporters become more militant and violent with each passing week. Asami and Mako are worried for Bolin, but he reassures them that things will work out.

Tonraq arrives back in Republic City. He hasn't seen Korra in six months. She said that she'd been here, in Republic City.

Asami doesn’t want to be mad at Korra; what happened to her was never her fault. But this - leaving without saying anything, lying to them - is callous. Hurtful. Doesn't she know that they've all been waiting for her? Doesn't she know that they want to help?

Asami goes back to work.

Another letter from her father is added to the stack. Another letter that she didn’t ask for, or spend years waiting for, praying for. Asami breaks and goes to see him, to yell at him, to demand that he leave her alone. Alone is all she's been for years, but she can't trust him, anymore than she can trust the letters from Korra, or trust the fact that anything she did made any difference. Hiroshi knows better than to ask for forgiveness, but she can tell he desperately wants his daughter back.

Well, 'his daughter' is exhausted, and wounded, and...and lonely.

If there is one thing in her life she can try to piece back together, she may as well try.

Asami makes time to return to the prison every week. She's grateful for the company.

Months pass with no word of the Avatar. The airbenders are on high alert for any sign of Korra, but they’ve come up with nothing. Asami's anger cools some. Korra's not ready. And as much as Asami wish it weren't true, she's not sure when Korra will ever be ready.

In the mornings, she runs.

Day One

Asami stared at the magazine in her hands as if she was actually reading the articles. Her eyes glazed over the words. She was trying to look busy. Trying to pretend like her stomach wasn’t knotting up inside. She'd been pretending like that for weeks. She put on a brave face for Mako and the others, as if the prospect of Korra coming home didn’t leave her nervous out of her mind.

The kids had found Korra safe and in one piece. But which Korra would be coming home? She’d spent three years trying to walk again, trying to find her spiritual center, trying to reconnect with herself as the Avatar. How successful could Korra have been when the last honest words Asami had received from her were that she was afraid she’d never be whole again? Would Asami see that now familiar memory of defeat in Korra’s eyes? Walking or not, was there still anything left of her friend to reach for?

She wanted to yell at Korra for leaving in the first place. It was a petty and unfair impulse, Asami knew that, but if she had gotten on that boat with Korra, maybe things would have been different. Maybe Korra wouldn’t have felt like she had to run away. Maybe Asami wouldn’t feel like she’d had three years stolen from her. Three years of clawing her way back up into some sense of normalcy. And now Korra was back. Was there anything to come back to? Had some doors been slammed in their face? She wanted to run out the door before Korra showed up. Would any good come from getting the answers that she’d begged for?

"I hope you haven't been waiting long."

Asami forced her eyes up from the magazine, and found Korra staring back at her. Asami memorized every detail of that moment. Korra was taller. Her hair was trimmed short; Asami loved being able to see her face better. Her eyes were bright and present. There was nervousness there, but her smile was genuinely happy. She was happy to see Asami. She was smiling.

It was the most beautiful thing Asami could think of.

There you are.

For a moment, at least, the fear and anger and anxiety all slipped away. Asami managed a smile back and climbed out of her seat. Korra’s arms opened for her, and Asami’s smile shot all the way down to her toes.

"Only three years," she said. Asami wrapped her arms around her neck and pulled her close. Warmth, and home, and Korra, welcomed her. Korra's arms circled around her middle and held her. Time hung still in the air, but not for nearly long enough.

When they gently pulled apart, Korra's smile was still there, broad and joyful. Peaceful. And all for her.

Asami was done for.