Author's Note: A short fic in two chapters, though I do certainly hope to write more for this couple in the future. I hope you all enjoy, and I appreciate any and all reviews.

Spoiler warning for the finale, if you haven't seen it yet. And if you haven't, go see it.

A year ago, the question was: "Why?" In particular, some variation on: "Why was I poisoned?", "Why didn't I recover fully?", "Why did I survive?", or "Why me?"

I never actually spoke those words aloud, of course. I knew full well how all of my friends and allies would have replied. Mako would have shifted the blame to Zaheer and the Red Lotus, but those simple facts of the matter didn't satisfy me. Bolin would probably have just admitted he didn't know and tried to shift the subject. Tenzin would have given me a better answer, probably telling me that the universe had a plan for me; I simply didn't know it yet.

Asami… Well, I couldn't quite guess at her answer. And while I was never able to speak any of those questions out loud, it turned out to be just a bit easier to write them down. And so I ended up admitting my questions to her in one of my letters. Around a month later, I received a reply. I ended up reading over this section of her letter so many times that I can recite it by rote now:

As for your questions, the answers all seem simple on the face of them: Zaheer was trying to kill you because he wanted a world without the Avatar. The Avatar state wasn't able to repair the damage already done to your body, but it, along with your own strength, is the reason you did indeed survive. And it happened to you because you're the Avatar. But you know all that, and the questions still bother you. Something else is the problem here.

My father once told me that the Fire Sages believe in a concept known as "mu." It means "nothing" or "emptiness," but when used as a reply to a question, it has a special meaning: "The question is wrong." Imagine I asked you, "Have you stopped riding badgermoles around Republic City?" Of course, you've never ridden badgermoles in your life (to the best of my knowledge). But if you were to answer "yes" or "no," you would be validating my question - say "yes" and you've ridden them in the past but have stopped, or say "no" and you're still riding them. The proper reply is "mu"; you've never ridden one. The question is wrong.

And so I wonder if this is the problem here. You aren't satisfied with the simple answers to these questions because you know that the questions themselves are wrong. I don't think these questions are completely wrong, mind you. They mean something to you, so they're likely close to the questions you should be asking. So for now, perhaps you should try to figure out what question you should be asking.

Asami was certainly onto something. Asking those questions over and over wasn't getting me anywhere. If I'd remained where I was, I never would have found any answers. The answers to all my questions why didn't come to me until I found myself trying to understand Kuvira. Once I saw it, it all made sense; I'd gone through all of that so that I could empathize with her, to understand her.

Which meant Asami was right. At the time I was asking those questions, there was no way I could have answered them. I hadn't seen the reasons why yet. As Tenzin would have said, the universe hadn't yet made its plans clear. Or, looking at it another way, I shouldn't have been asking why, I should have been asking something else. I should have been asking what I could learn from it all.

The Korra from a year ago would certainly be asking why right now, as I enter the new spirit portal with Asami. Why, when I've decided that now is the time to look to the future, do I find myself looking into her eyes? And why do I find her looking back into mine? But no, those aren't the questions I should be asking. I smile at Asami, holding her hand in mine as we stand before the portal. What do I learn from this?

A warmth slowly fills my heart as the answer comes to me. A woman who sometimes seemed to know me better than I know myself. My closest friend. The only one I could trust when I was at my lowest. The one I wanted to spend time with when things settled down.

From my subconscious actions as we approached the portal, my body had made it clear that it already knew the answer. My mind had only now caught up.

It was simple. I saw my future in her eyes.