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Chapter Text

Korra hauled herself back to her knees as she counted out crunches. A few dozen more to go before she was satisfied. Her shoulders and midsection burned, but she focused on the ache, the discomfort. Anything to avoid thinking about their third day of silence.

There had been no word from Asami, other than gently uninviting Mako and Bolin from the Sato estate on her father’s behalf. Then nothing for three days now. Korra couldn’t help fixating on every way that this ‘plan’ could be going wrong while she sat cozy on Air Temple Island.

Asami could be dead. Her father’s men could have followed her and locked her up for saving Korra. Amon could have decided to take out her betrayal on father and daughter.

Asami could be at Amon’s side now, laughing at how gullible and pliant the Avatar had been. How all she’d needed had been a few tears, some kind words and a rousing pledge of loyalty, a kiss...

“It's cold out here in the middle of the bay,” Mako said from the doorway, hugging his arms. The lights of Republic City slowly brightened in the distance as the sun went down. “We don’t catch these winds back home.”

Tenzin and his family had been more than welcoming, letting the boys take up residence here on the island. As far as Tenzin was concerned, they were all in this together. One big happy family in one increasingly crowded home.

Flicking sweat from her eyes, Korra huffed out another sit-up. If not for her, the boys wouldn’t be homeless. The pro-bending arena wouldn’t have been invaded and nearly blown up in service of Amon’s crusade. Her friends’ lives were crumbling around her, and she was as close to stopping Amon as she was the first time she’d heard his voice on the wireless.

Stepping into the room, Mako tried to smile at her. She couldn't manage to look up. “I guess that’s sort of the point of an Air Temple,” he mused.

Korra’s muscles shook as she twisted herself to stand.

“Let me help.” Mako offered a hand, his eyes kind. Korra met them and hated herself for avoiding him since he’d arrived at the temple. Mako was strong and sure, ready to take on every solitary Equalist if he had to. Determined to save the city that he loved and those he loved in it. Supportive when Korra felt like she was breaking down and ready to hide from Amon and his army. But he couldn’t be prepared for the truth. He’d been completely played, just a means to set a trap for Korra. They had all been played. And yet Korra kept holding onto Asami’s lies. For what? To spare Mako’s feelings? To spare Asami’s?

She found herself staring at his outstretched hand and gently took it. Hauling herself to her feet, she squeezed Mako’s fingers. “Thanks,” she murmured, slipping her hand from his and stepping to the window. The chill breeze across her bare arms and feet was a welcome distraction. It felt like being back down south. Her world had been small then. Simpler.

“How are you settling in?” she asked.

“Good,” he nodded. “Everyone’s been really nice. Really quiet. I’m almost afraid to talk out loud in the dormitory.”

“Go find the kids if you need a little noise,” Korra smirked. Despite the tension simmering across the city, the island was downright serene. “I for one am good with a little quiet,” she sighed, “It’s going to be hard to come by pretty soon.”

They stared out at the sunset for a long while. No words between them.

“What’s wrong?” Mako finally asked.

Your girlfriend is a spy and I want you. “Tired,” she said.

“This all isn’t on you, Korra.”

“The longer it takes to find Amon, the stronger his foothold on the city is.”

“You’ve got them scared,” Mako said. “Amon will make a mistake, and we’ll be there when he does.”

“Sure,” she breathed.

Mako palmed her shoulder. “We’re going to figure this out,” he said, “All of us together.”

Korra held the window sill, staring out at a city full of people who wanted her dead, or who didn’t trust her to keep them alive. “There’s so much working against us.”

“Well the Avatar’s working against them. I like our odds.”

She turned and found Mako smiling down at her. Daring her to shake his confidence. She could do it so easily, too.

“Mako, I’m…” Her voice broke against the words. I’m sorry. I’ve been lying to your face. You deserve to know the truth.

Korra stepped into his chest. Her arms snaked around his middle and pulled him close. “I’m glad you’re here,” she sighed. She breathed him in for a moment.

Mako wrapped his arms over Korra’s shoulders, hugging her back. “Me, too,” he said gently.

He was warm and steady, but a light knock on the door interrupted the calm she found in his arms.

“Is everything alright?” Asami asked.

Mako gently loosened his hold around Korra, and she slipped away from him as casually as she could muster. “Hey, stranger,” he said, his smile growing.

Asami stood in the doorway in Sato racetrack fatigues, a leather pack slung over her shoulder. For a moment, Korra couldn’t remember the scowl or the tears. For a moment, Asami wasn’t an Equalist. Wasn’t a liar. Just the girl that Korra couldn’t look away from. Couldn’t say no to.

It was just another mask.

Asami looked smaller — nervous, even — as Mako strode over to her and opened his arms. She let Mako hug her close and plant a kiss on her head.

“Hi.” Asami’s voice wavered.

He watched her eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, leaning down to kiss her. Korra remembered how soft her lips had been. She concentrated on the paper walls.

When Mako pulled back, Asami seemed to take in every inch of his face for the briefest heartbeat. “I’m fine,” she lied. Korra watched her hand grab a fistful of his jacket, clinging for a tether. “Bolin was looking for you out in the courtyard.”

Mako nodded, stepping into the hall. “Don’t go anywhere,” he smirked, squeezing her arm before turning down the hallway.

And then there were two.

Asami stood in the door frame. Waiting for words. Korra knelt beside the bed and braced her arms down. She silently counted out push-ups. Thirteen, fourteen...

“You didn’t tell him.”

“I didn’t think it was my place,” Korra breathed. “It’s your lie.”

She heard Asami step towards the bed and slide to the ground next to her. “I’m sorry I’ve been gone,” Asami said. Her attention was fixed to the door. “I needed to be sure they weren’t following me.”

Nineteen, twenty...

Rummaging through her bag, Asami pulled out a neat stack of dark clothes. An Equalist mask was tucked inside the uniform jacket. "I can’t leave these in the house. I think Amon’s people are sifting through my room." She shoved the makeshift Equalist garb back into the bag and slid it under the bed. “I’ll leave them here, if that’s alright.”

“Fine.” Another push-up and Korra huffed out a quiet “Twenty-five...twenty-six...”

Asami managed a smirk. “You don't have to keep showing off for me."

“Stop doing that,” Korra snapped. Her arms shook beneath her.

The smile fell, and Asami went quiet.

Korra took a long breath to center herself. She dipped to the floor. “Stop acting like nothing’s wrong."

“I’m on your side.”

“What was Mako in all this?” Korra muttered.

Asami hesitated. “I care what happens to him.”

“I don’t know how to take anything you say.” Korra glared at the floor, recalling the compliments and the invitations. All the lies she’d teased out in the last three days. The vague truths she was still parsing through. The glances, the flirtation. Asami’s anger, her gentleness. Korra chewed her bottom lip, remembering the taste of cherry blossoms. “How can I trust anything about you?”

Korra began her push-ups again, stewing in silence. See how Asami liked it...

“I met Amon.”

Her hands faltered. Struggling into another push-up, she stared at a crease in a floorboard. “...are you okay?” she asked.

“He thanked me for my service,” Asami said with a small, bitter smile. She fidgeted beside the bed. “It was terrifying.”

“Did he know what happened at the warehouse?”

“I don’t know. He said he wants me to keep monitoring you.” Asami unfolded paper from the pocket of her bag, sliding it beneath Korra’s face. Columns of times scratched out in smudged ink. “But some of his men kept following me around. I holed myself up in my room and I’ve been tracking them from the window. I’ve got a full view of the estate.”

The paper was a detailed schedule of guard movements: physical descriptions, some with names, arrivals, final sightings, notes about any activities out of the ordinary. It was thorough, written in a scribbled rushed handwriting.

Korra dropped to her knees, fixated.

“My father has a workshop behind the house,” Asami said, her fingertips frantically tapping on the floor. “He closes himself up in there for hours so he can draft schematics in peace. Last few days, there’s been too much traffic going in. A few of his bodyguards, some of the technicians that visit the estate, but I’ve seen some of Amon’s stationed men go in there, too.” She pointed at a few empty entries in the column of time-stamps that was marked ‘exit’. “These ones never came back out. I waited for days.”

“What are they doing in there?” From here Korra could see the dark circles, the exhaustion Asami had tried to cover with makeup. Korra had been on edge for three days, worried and angry and frustrated, but Asami had been awake for that long.

“I think there’s another way out of that workshop,” Asami said, “Underground.”

“To where?”

“We know my father made the stun gloves. There wasn’t a trace of them when you searched the factories because that’s not where they're manufactured. He wouldn’t leave himself exposed like that. My bet is wherever he's equipping the Equalist army, it’s under the estate.”

Korra snatched up the surveillance and groaned to her feet. Everything hurt. “Will you let me bring in Tenzin and Beifong now?”

“You’ll want all the muscle you can get,” Asami agreed, “Get everyone on the same page and we’ll set a plan.”

“We go in tonight,” Korra said.

Asami frowned, lifting herself up with the bedside. “Amon said my father’s newest weapon is going to win their war. We don’t know what’s down there. Let me go back. I can scout it out and report back.”

“I want this over.” Korra went for her boots and started hopping into them. “I’d rather you not be there.”

“I can take care of myself,” Asami glared. “My father made sure of that.”

Hiroshi was a zealot. He’d die to protect his cause and whatever he was building down there to fight benders. Korra couldn’t let his weapon be unleashed on the city. “Asami, if we can’t stop him peacefully, if I have to-”

“If anything happens to my father,” Asami said softly, “I should be there.” Green eyes dimmed as the weight of her words sunk in.

Korra's trust had wavered, but that look had cracked through any mask Asami could be hiding behind. If it came down between her father or Korra, Asami had made her choice. She was giving up her world.

“Don’t do this just for me,” Korra said.

“I’m not. It’s the right thing to do.” There was a pause in Asami’s breath, her resolve trembled. “It’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?” She searched Korra’s eyes.

“You’re standing up for millions of innocent people,” Korra said. “You’re the one making a better world. Not Amon. Not your father.”

The smile she earned from Asami was quiet, unsure, but warm. It sent a flutter from her face down to her toes. Korra drew in a breath and crouched under the bed, shoving the leather bag deeper back. “If the Equalists trailed you, sudden trips to the Air Temple and back are going to raise some flags,” she said. “Stay for dinner. It’ll give you an alibi when you get back home.”

“Thank you, Korra.”

Korra made her way to the door, but turned when she felt Asami on her heels.

Asami stood close, breathing carefully. A silence hung between them, of words being clung to, of things unsaid. “Will you please...wait to tell Mako?” she asked.

“He’ll know by tonight,” Korra said.

“I know that." Tears began to well up. "I'm...just not ready yet." Asami’s gaze clung to the floor.

Before she knew what she was doing, Korra reached out for her hand. All the pretense gone. They were all in this together, for better or worse. “I trust you,” Korra said.

Asami had let her father’s anger fester and infect her. Blind her to the reality of the world they lived in. Benders were not a problem to be solved; they were human beings. Her pain did not damn an entire population of people. Her mother would never have wanted this. Perhaps it was too late for Hiroshi, but there was still time to save her own soul.

Light had fallen. She hugged her knees, fighting the chill in the dormitory hall.

Tonight was the end of it. Either Amon’s army would overtake Korra and the police, or Asami would face the fallout of her father’s allegiance with the Equalists. Neither option filled her with hope for what the morning would bring. One of her worlds was going to implode.

They’d all know the truth. Her friends would have to decide if Asami was worth trusting ever again. Korra’s words burned to the core of her, kept a glimmer of a chance for a life after all this. But the Avatar was supposed to be compassionate, unbiased. Korra wasn’t the only person who’d let Asami into her life. There were still plenty of hearts to break. Plenty of bridges laid out like kindling.

"There you are.” Mako wandered down the hall towards her, peeling off his scarf and jacket with a wince.

“I wasn’t sure which room was yours,” she said softly. As Mako got closer, she saw the mud coating his clothes, and couldn’t help a smirk. “What happened?”

Mako chuckled, scratching at a patch of slick black from his neck. “One of the air acolytes was scraping off muck and lichen from the far-side of the tower. Bolin thought pitching in would be a nice gesture. Just a way to thank Tenzin and Pema for putting us up.”

Because my father helped destroy your home, she thought. Her chest twisted, and she could tell in his face that he’d noticed. Mako groaned, rubbing at his hair. “I’m sorry,” he stammered, “I didn’t mean anything-”

“It’s fine,” she said quickly. She nodded to a door across from them. “Which one’s yours?”

Mako nodded to a room two doors down. She braced up against the wall and followed him inside. The easy quiet she’d always felt between them fractured under the weight of the next few hours. Mako would see her as a liar. He’d think that she’d used him. He’d remember every night they’d spent as nothing but lies.

“You staying for dinner?” he asked, sliding the door closed.

“That’s the plan.” Asami stepped into the room and stared out through the open window. Night had settled in. Their hours left were melting away.

A fundamental lie was not all there was. Asami was going to lose him and he’d never know that there had always been more between them. That she’d always wanted more.

Turning back to Mako, she peeled the soggy jacket from his arms and dropped it to the floor. She leaned into him and their lips met. A comfortable kiss. Familiar.

His hands fell to her back and he smiled against her mouth. “I’m not sure girls are allowed in here.”

“Latch the door,” she said gently.

Her eyes drifted closed as Mako inched them backwards. She heard the slide of the lock and she gripped the back of his hair, urging him back towards the bed with her. Asami's hands slid under his shirt. He shivered as her freezing hands stole his heat.

Mako glanced at the door as Asami pushed him to sit. “I think Pema said dinner’s-”

She cut him off with another kiss. Heated. Rushed. “We can be late,” she sighed. Asami tugged the snaps along her collar and wrestled out of the jacket. Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him tighter against her. The world could wait.

Asami couldn’t find the words for this sweet man. She couldn’t will herself to drop the game, and watch the damage the truth would do. She wanted nothing but the love in his eyes.

They clung to each other in the dark.