(See the end of the chapter for notes .)

Chapter Text

(between Books 1 and 2)

At the gates leading to the Sato Estate, guards stood solemn watch. Not Sato employees, but grim, steel-armored Republic City Police on twenty-four hour surveillance. President Raiko had taken few chances for the last face of the Equalist movement to flee. Asami had not been formally charged, but she was still a suspected enemy of the state. Decisions had yet to be made about her future. Until today.

Korra approached the estate alongside Chief Beifong, who’d regained her firm authoritative stride, along with her rank. A few weeks ago, Korra and Beifong had watched Amon obliterate their bending and their livelihoods. But Korra regained her control of the elements and the technique to restore bending, resulting in many people’s lives being resurrected, along with the world’s confidence in the Avatar.

“Miss Sato is well within her rights to receive business correspondence.” A thin man in a Future Industries uniform shouted outside of the gate.

Asami’s confession had been kept a private matter, the only public statement being that she was cooperating with the police. Few people outside the Council knew that she’d been placed under house arrest.

A burly policeman - one of three - blocked the entrance to the estate and tugged at the envelope, inspecting its edges. “All incoming and outgoing messages need to go through a proper inspection.”

“But this is time-sensitive!” the messenger argued, eyeing the envelope anxiously. “Do you have any idea what a board of directors can do to you if they think that you can’t do your one job?”

The officer glanced up over his glasses with a staunch expression. Apparently, he did not.

Beifong called out as they neared the guardhouse. “Is there a problem?”

Everyone stiffened as they saw the Chief of Police and the Avatar closing in.

“Inspecting correspondence, ma’am.” The officer saluted. He nodded to Korra awkwardly. “And…ma’am.”

“We’ll deliver it,” Korra announced.

Beifong reached out with an open palm, waiting until the officer obediently handed it over.

The messenger flapped his hands at them, crying out, “Miss Sato has to sign the marked lines on the first, fourth, and fifth pages!”

“We’ll be quick,” Korra promised. Snatching the envelope from the Chief, she marched for the gates and fought the urge to sprint as they opened.

She needed to find Asami. Now. Too much of the past few weeks had been wasted on bureaucratic fear and backlash. Her friends - all of her friends - had earned their lives back with blood, sweat, and tears. The least that Korra could do was make sure Asami didn’t spend hers trapped behind concrete walls.

“Okay. And the line is…here.” Bolin grunted from the floor, elbow deep in the undercarriage of the Satomobile. It was propped up on a large metal cylinder bracing it up to shoulder height. “Right?”

Asami turned at the workbench to check. The garage was warm, filled with oil and gas fumes despite the open doors. She could feel the officer looming over her, watching her every move. Squatting down, she eyed where Bolin was pointing with his wrench. “Not quite,” she said. “Try again.”

“Okay… What about here?” Bolin asked, tapping another tube.

Asami shook her head, directing him with a gloved hand. Her wrist ached with the effort, hurt a little even, but she ignored the weight against her arm. “Try there.”

“Where?” He squinted.

“Over there, Bo. I’m pointing right at it.”

He disappeared into the piping, and there was a clang, followed by a thud. “…Ow.”

“Are you alright?” She scooted closer anxiously, ready to see blood.

“Yeah…just got oil in my eye,” Bolin forced out cheerfully. “But I’m good!”

Asami stole a glance at a clock up on the wall. The Future Industries couriers usually arrived within a few minutes of the hour. They were running late.

A distinctive shadow reached out across the floor, followed by the cough of Lin Beifong. “So that speech I gave about not overexerting yourself stuck for, what, five minutes?”

Asami smiled, watching Bolin slowly empty the oil reservoir. “I was going stir-crazy, Chief. How about we call it community service and knock a bit off my inevitable sentence?” Asami didn’t look in the Chief’s direction till she heard a playful knock from the door.

“Delivery!”

Glancing up, Asami found an unexpected smile aimed at her. “Korra…” she managed out. The burn in her legs made it difficult to stand. She and Bolin had been changing oil for a few hours longer than it would have taken her to do it alone. She hesitated a step or two in front of Korra. “Hi.” Asami couldn’t help but smile, though it was a tinge anxious.

Korra looked happy. Centered. The calm sea in her eyes reassured Asami that the tone between them would be better than last time. Last time, Korra had been furious with her. Running off with the police without saying a word had apparently been the wrong decision. Asami had left the South Pole to take her punishment, or at least, the beginnings of her punishment. There still hadn’t been any formal charges, and the waiting was almost as bad as not being able to leave the estate.

“Hope we’re not interrupting,” Korra said.

“Not at all.” Asami wiped the dust stains along her pants and arms. “Bolin’s helping me with some maintenance. And Officer Tam here-” She flashed a charming smile at the man in uniform lurking in the shadows, “-was just about to share his thoughts on adding all terrain capability to the roadster model. Weren’t you?” When he responded with more stony silence, her smile grew an edge to it. She snapped her fingers. “No wait, that’s right. He was just hovering over my shoulder making sure I’m not plotting to overthrow a government. My mistake.”

Korra frowned a little. “Is…everything okay?”

Chief Beifong eyed the disassembled Satomobile. “I would have thought you’d find house arrest to be relaxing,” she said.

Asami forced a calm breath. She had not been ready to come back to this house yet. Too many ghosts still clung to its halls, and roaming it for well into a month now had not done her patience any favors.

She decided to tell the lesser truth. “Just in a rush. I’m waiting on a package from the office. It’s late.”

“Right! Delivery joke. This is for you.” Korra handed her a thick envelope emblazoned with the Future Industries logo. “The messenger made it sound important.”

“It is. Thank you.” Asami sighed, recognizing the weight of it. “It’s an asset sales contract,” she said, palming it back and forth. “The board is selling off non-essential departments to keep us in the black.”

“Can you do anything?” Korra asked.

Asami managed only a shrug as she stared down at the unopened document. Perhaps if she stared long enough it would just go away. “If I don’t make an appearance with the board soon, they’re going to cut their losses and sell off the rest of Future Industries piece by piece. It doesn’t lend much confidence when their new CEO can’t leave her house.”

“We might be able to help with that, actually.” Korra fought a smirk. “I’ve been talking it over with the Council-”

“Call it what it was,” Beifong muttered.

Korra set a sheepish hand to the back of her own neck. “…I’ve been vigorously negotiating with the Council, and President Raiko has agreed to release you into my custody.”

“What does that mean?” Asami asked.

Korra’s smile grew. “It means that you can come and go as you please. No more house arrest.”

“But you’ll be responsible for me,” Asami ventured.

“I won’t be breathing over your shoulder every minute of the day. I already vouched for you.”

“Repeatedly,” Beifong muttered. She gave a nod to Officer Tam, and he wandered out of the garage. “Consider your release probationary. But if you behave yourself, we’ll drop our investigation.”

“Hey hey!” Bolin slid out from under the car. “That’s great!” He slapped a hug around Asami’s shoulders. He pulled back and Asami felt an engine grease stain seep against her skin. Her shirt was smeared. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I can fix it!” Bolin thrust a towel at her in a panic.

Asami took it with chuckle. “It’s okay, Bo.”

“What were you helping Asami with?” Korra asked.

“Just putting my natural talents to good use.” Bolin puffed up his chest, flinging a rag over his shoulder. “Asami says I’m a regular grease monkey-marmot.”

“I used one of those words,” Asami agreed, smirking.

He deflated a little at that, but his mood remained bright. He waved a vague hand at Korra. “You and Mako have a been a little scarce lately, so I figured, us third wheels should maybe stick together.”

Korra cast a timid eye at Asami.

“Bolin already told me that you were seeing each other,” she said gently.

It didn’t seem to ease her discomfort at the subject. “I haven’t seen much of him, either,“ Korra shrugged. "If it makes you two feel any better.”

“Fire Ferret practices are going great, by the way.” Bolin tried to sound enthused. “The new guys are just…they’re just great. You and Mako should see them. We’ll be back in fighting shape in no time.”

“Glad to hear it,” Korra said, not catching the strain in his smile.

His friends were doing important things. Asami knew he didn’t want to get in the way, or air his grievances when things were just starting to settle down.

“How are you and Mako?” Asami asked. She had avoided asking even Bolin.

Korra stumbled over the question. “We don’t…we don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to.”

Asami kept her smile friendly. “I asked.”

With a nod, she searched for the answer. “Mako’s neck deep studying for the policeman’s exam. He’s holed up in his room a lot, but he’s good. We’re good.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” She meant it.

At the South Pole, Asami had convinced herself that sending Mako after Korra was a noble gesture. She wanted them both to be happy. And if they found happiness together, then maybe that was for the best. Korra had found her center, her power. And Mako was supporting her as they all figured out what their futures held.

But a relentless whisper at the corner of her thoughts replayed that day at the cliff. What she’d heard secondhand. What she’d seen between Mako and Korra. Would today look different if she had asked Mako to stay and work out what had remained of their relationship? What if it had been Asami standing in the snow when Korra had found herself again?

“Seems like you could hand in those papers yourself, now,” Korra said.

Sliding her fingers along the envelope’s edge, Asami smiled anxiously. “If some of the board members are still at the office, I might be able to catch them.” She met Korra’s eyes and pushed down the flutter in her chest. “Korra, thank you,” she said, “I owe you so much.”

Korra shook her head. “No scorecard, okay?”

Asami forced a breath, nodding quietly. In the last few weeks, her world had gotten so small. Gripping tight around her chest, suffocating her. Now that she was finally out from under its weight, she felt a desperate, familiar pang.

There was another cough from Beifong. “I’ll collect my men and we’ll get out of your hair,” she said. She reached out to Asami. “Hands,” she gruffly requested.

The ache at Asami’s wrists had almost grown dull, until she began to slip off her work gloves. Strapped to either wrist was a thick steel manacle. Easy to control by the metalbender police, should Asami attempt to make a break for it. Despite the abrasive pain, Asami had tried to ignore them by keeping herself busy. But the more she moved, sweat, and twisted, the more they scraped.

She offered her hands to Beifong, palms up, all the while avoiding Korra’s eyes. The cuffs were unmistakable proof of her crimes, branding her mistakes for everyone to see. For Korra to see. Somewhere small, and dark, and paranoid, Asami was afraid that if she met Korra’s eyes, she’d only find the Avatar staring down a criminal.

Beifong swiped a fist over Asami’s cuffs, and they slapped together with a clang. Asami fidgeted at the sudden loss of control. The Chief put her other hand beneath the cuffs for support, and opened her fist into a clawed gesture, palm up. The shackles wrenched open at her command, and the skin revealed beneath was raw where they had chafed and dug in.

“Asami, what happened?” With a wince, Korra reached for her hands.

“I had work to do,” Asami said, trying to shrug.

The Chief lowered to a knee, rolling up Asami’s pant leg to collect the steel cuffs at her ankles. “I warned her,” Beifong said, almost gently.

Korra turned Asami’s wrists over, frowning at the rough bruising. No judgement. No anger. Why had Asami been so frightened? The dust of war had settled, and Korra was still standing there. Still fighting for her. Bolin was still beside her, grinning and encouraging her to savor what she’d managed to salvage of her life. Mako was still reassuring her, calling the house in the empty early mornings that he knew were the hardest.

Asami had almost forgotten what family was supposed to feel like. She’d never doubted her mother’s fierce, kind love. But she was gone. Hiroshi had sacrificed so much for what he’d believed to be justice that he had given up trying to be a father. Asami’s childhood had been lonely. And quiet. She had grown comfortable into that familiar coldness. It was simple there. No one to let in. No one to force her to care.

But the struggles of the last year had clawed through that ice. Left her starved for comfort. For contact. A month of limited visitation, of cold and quiet nights that she’d once been accustomed to, had now worn away at her. She had people to lose. People she would throw her life down for without thinking twice.

She had family.

And that family still wanted her.

Without thinking, without hesitating, she threw herself forward. Arms sought Korra and hugged her close. She felt a gentle hand on her back, and bit back a heavy sob at her throat.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Korra promised softly, squeezing her a little tighter.

Asami wanted to believe every word.

“Let’s head up to the house,” Korra said. “I’ll patch you up.” Strong arms slipped around Asami’s shoulders, leading her out of the garage. She sunk into the comfort of it, a warm glow rising up to her ears.