“We’re making a safer world,” her father had promised as the screams had begun out in the stands, “A better world.” (during episode 6)

Chapter Text

“We’re making a safer world,” her father had promised as the screams had begun out in the stands, “A better world.”

“For centuries, benders have possessed an unnatural advantage over ordinary people.”

Republic City was riveted to their radios with anxious, bated breath. Amon’s words boomed through the probending loudspeakers and out to the world, his words calm, smooth, confidant. He had the whole city’s undivided attention. Asami could see now how he was capable of swaying an entire army to his side.

“But thankfully, modern technology has provided us with a way to even out the playing field. Now anyone can hold the power of a chi-blocker in their hand.”

Asami gripped the railing of the executive box, staring out at the sea of panic. Bursts of light dotted the stands like camera flashes. While the crowd in the arena was in a frenzy, her eyes were locked on the platform below the pro-bending ring.

She’d seen Amon’s lieutenant send a shock through the water. She’d heard their screams, and then silence. The Equalist had fished the Fire Ferrets out of the water, but the stage was now blocking her view. She couldn’t tell if they were fighting for their lives, if they were in custody. If they were still breathing.

“My followers and I will not rest until the entire city achieves equality, and once that goal is achieved, we will equalize the rest of the world. The revolution has begun!”

A shadow rumbled outside the arena’s glass canopy for a long instant. The dome shattered.

Screaming filled the air.

“Asami,” her father called, “It’s time for us to leave.” Four guards entered the room, ushering Hiroshi out into the hall teeming with fleeing people.

“ASAMI.”

She flinched at her father’s anger. Her fingers slipped from the railing as she felt a solid presence behind her. The bodyguard - all chilly eyes and muscle - gently guided her by the shoulder towards the door. Her throat closed up as they moved to join Hiroshi out in the hallway.

Then the stage exploded.

Everything went loud, and hot, and bright. They stumbled from the noise, and Asami spun back to the overhang. A thick black column of smoke rose from the stage. She couldn’t see. Could only hear shouting and chaos. There was no sign of anything in the water.

No...

The hand on her shoulder squeezed back down. She was pulled away from the balcony and shoved towards the door. Asami found herself surrounded by a cadre of burly men and Hiroshi. Shoulder to shoulder, she struggled to keep up with their rush down the hallway.

Faces blurred around her. She wrenched free of the guard’s arm, shaking off his grip as she walked in step with her father and the suits. Out the back entrance to the executive suites, down a steep stone stairway. It wasn’t a main entrance; it should have been clear for them.

But the crowd that had rushed the VIP lobby hit them fast. Hundreds of spectators, faces and hair painted in the Fire Ferret red and wolfbat black, swept them up into a current towards the doors. The guards cramped in around her, pressed by the weight of the horde. Bodies crushing each other to find an escape.

Hiroshi yelled something, but Asami couldn’t make out the words over the shouting and thunder of feet.

“Down!” barked one of the guards, shoving back against the mob. Asami ducked against his shoulder blades.

Hands clawed up against the guards and a pair of young men took a flying leap over their shoulders, trying to climb over the crowd. Hiroshi’s men drove forward to throw them back. For a moment, it broke their formation.

Her father snatched her hand as the crowd split them apart, but Asami stumbled forward with the guard’s momentum. She lost her grip and hit the ground.

Her heart thumped against her chest. Panicked. Frozen on the ground. It felt like drowning; she couldn’t breathe. A shoe struck her face and pain flashed at her mouth, shocking her brain into clarity. Get up. The wind was torn from her lungs with another kick. Get up now or you’re going to die.

Pushing up with all her strength, arms burning, she surfaced in the crowd. She gulped in cold air. Over the din, Asami swore she could hear her name. No sign of her father or the guards. The weight of hundreds of people, crammed together like fish: the crowd was a living breathing thing. It could crush her if she fought it. She waded through, following the tide.

In a haze of shouting and movement, Asami managed to squeeze out of a doorway, and she sucked in cold damp air. This side of the arena pier looked out over the bay. The crowd dispersed a few yards from the door, fleeing in all directions. Her eyes darted through the sea of faces, searching for her father’s. For a moment, at least. But spectators around her had begun to stare out above at the arena’s domed roof. She followed their gazes and saw a blaze flare out against the night sky.

At the sight of fire, something deep in her chest uncoiled. She let herself breathe for a moment. Wet dripped from her lips and she wiped at the slow stream of blood, her eyes locked on the roof, searching above for any other sign of life.

Another blast of fire, and something sailed off the edge of the dome, plummeting from the sky. People who had been watching the glimpses of the fight began to scatter. A dozen yards away from her, the body hit the concrete. Hard. Asami pushed through the mass of people towards it.

The Equalist’s body was twitching. Arms and legs splayed out at ugly angles. Red stained the ground around him in a fine mist.

She inched towards the man, watching as his seizing slowed, then stopped. Her boot touched the side of his head, nudging it. Nothing. The line between life and death was so delicate.

Eyeing the fleeing crowd, Asami took a knee. Her hands shook, reflecting in green glass as she reached for his mask. It was snug around his head. She pried it loose from under his collar, pulling gently, and was welcomed by the bloodied, wide-eyed stare of a corpse. The warm glow of the arena lights washed him in a sickly yellow. He was barely older than her. His face mangled in an inhuman scowl. He’d died quickly, but terrified.

The impulse to run flared in her mind, but she fought against it, wrenching the mask free of its former owner. Treated leather and thick protective fabric. A splash of blood over where the mouth should go. Her stomach turned.

The crowd paid little mind to the body. They were too busy running. Screaming rang out in the distance. The hiss of electricity filling the air.

Asami’s eyes narrowed on the glove clenched in the dead man’s grip. Asami had never seen anything like it before tonight. It was beautiful: the mastery of circuitry, internal power source, the level of miniaturization needed to get the mechanics to fit around a hand. A little modification could make the tech even smaller. She could see Hiroshi’s style everywhere in the aesthetics of it.

He’d kept this from her.

Shoving the mask into the deepest pocket of her jacket, she dropped her other knee and began unfastening the brass buckles around the wrist.

“Asami!”

Her hands froze against the clasp, her heartbeat pumping in her ears. Looking up, she searched the crowd. Mako shoved his way towards her.

“Mako!” She scrambled to her feet, catching him around the neck as he stumbled into her. Everything hurt, but she clung to him as firmly as he hugged her. “I saw you in the water,” she managed out. Her throat felt ragged. “When he dunked the stunner in…” She lost her words, burying her face into him. He was warm. Alive. Winded and covered in soot, but alive.

“I’m alright,” he whispered, holding her in the embrace and leading her away from the body. They leaned together against the wall.

More fire flashed from the roof with a loud, heavy woosh. Asami looked up. “Korra...”

“She went up with Beifong,” Mako said. He lifted her chin gently. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’ll stop,” she promised, dabbing with the back of her hand. Her mouth fell into his. The air hitched in her lungs as Asami sunk into the familiar weight of him. She kissed him harder. Her bones ached.

“Ms. Sato!”

“Asami!”

She shut her eyes tight. Go away, her brain screamed. Bracing either side of his face, Asami left a slow, gentle kiss on Mako’s lips.

Her father’s bodyguards stormed through the throng towards them. She heard Hiroshi before she saw him. “Asami! Are you alright?”

“I got turned around,” she answered.

“She’s hurt,” Mako said, holding her steady by the arm.

“I’ll be alright," she insisted again. “I saw people getting trampled. Have any healers been dispatched?”

“They’re pulling our car up to the end of the pier,” Hiroshi urged. He waved a guard to retrieve her. “It’s time to go, before there’s any more violence.” Asami backed up a step as the guard got closer.

“He’s right,” Mako said. She glared up at him. “The police are handling it. The safest place for you both right now is home.”

“Thank you,” Hiroshi said, his tone bristling. Struggling to keep up his performance.

Mako kept a polite distance from her, but she held his hand firm. “I will come find you when things calm down,” he said quietly.

She nodded, squeezing his hand before drifting towards her father.

“Be careful,” Mako called, hustling back towards the arena, where more police were piling in.

Her father reached out for her shoulder, but Asami shook him off. She marched out ahead of the guards, offering Hiroshi only a moment’s venom. “What do you think of your safe new world?”