Chapter Text

(Book 4, episode 12)

The world only spun faster, out of control.

Leaders of the Air Nation and the Metal Clan had assembled in the workroom, strategizing and working out logistics for the next attack on Kuvira’s massive mechanical superweapon. Guerrilla tactics had only slowed its rampage, not stopped it. And Varrick’s electromagnetic pulse, though a brilliant plan, would only give them a few minutes more breathing room. Soon, another battalion of Kuvira’s mech forces would storm Future Industries Tower to wipe out their resistance.

“Moving to the next brace,” Hiroshi announced quickly beside her. She nodded, mimicking her father’s motions as they retrofitted cutting plasma saws onto her hummingbird aircraft. She focused on every detail of the installation. Quick, smooth, precise. The values that Hiroshi had instilled in her as a child.

Korra’s voice echoed through the room as she doled out orders. She was acting every part the general. Gathering her friends around a map of the city, assigning teams to different neighborhoods. Tracking the movements of Kuvira’s mech giant. Assessing what structures were expendable, what buildings they could best use to their advantage to slow down the self-proclaimed Empress and her rampage, while causing the least amount of destruction possible.

No one harbored any delusions about the battle ahead, though. Any destruction of their city would be too much. Kuvira wasn’t interested in peace; she wanted submission, and she wanted the Avatar destroyed. If leveling Republic City was how she could achieve that, then no one was safe within the city limits.

Asami forced herself to concentrate on her work. Avoid looking for Korra. There was too much riding on getting these modifications done. She and her father needed to tear into the platinum shell of the mech, or Kuvira would be untouchable. Asami had to focus. One glimpse upward, and her concentration would crumble under the weight of worry and panic that was filling any available space in her brain.

Daw the airbender scout burst into the workroom. “Kuvira is headed our way!” he shouted.

Korra turned back to the hummingbird and called out to Asami. “How long will it take to get the plasma saws ready?”

Asami clenched her teeth a little, finishing the last stroke of the solder before switching her torch off. “Just a few more minutes,” she said, surprised by how confident she had managed to sound. All she could feel inside was a tangle of knots in her gut.

“Get out there as soon as you can,” Korra said firmly.

With a nod, Asami turned back to her work, her head buzzing. Her hands shaking too much. She clamped down hard on the soldering torch. Her ear half to the conversation, her eyes glued to her work.

“If you do manage to get inside,” Baatar Jr winced, “find the engine room. There are two emergency levers. If you switch them off at the same time, you'll cut the power.” The outcast son of the Beifong clan had found his way back to his family. It had sadly taken his near death to convince him of Kuvira’s true priorities in this war.

“Thanks,” Korra said, “We may not be able to beat that thing, but we can slow it down.” With a wave of her hands, she urged the teams of metal and airbenders towards the door. “Let's go!”

Mako and Bolin took lead along with Tenzin as everyone began to shuffle to their zones for their final assault on the mech. If Varrick and Asami could pilot their hummingbirds into the mech’s airspace without being swatted out of the sky, they might stand a chance of pulling this crazy plan off.

The ground suddenly trembled at the sound of a dull, distance boom. Cold, lumbering steps from Kuvira’s spirit weapon. The mechanical giant.

Fear began to creep up over her focus, and Asami had to push down the thought that her last image of Korra would be the back of her head as she ran off to end this war, one way or another. The last moment they shared together would be that night on the dock, relaxed and foolish enough to believe that they had any time to take for themselves. Now, with the city toppling around them, Asami stood on the edge of losing Korra all over again.

That night, Asami had wanted to play it cool, playful. Pretend for a second that anything about them and their lives could be normal.

There was this little cafe near the edge of the docks. It would have only been a short walk from where they had been waiting for the ferry. At the prison, after her call to her factory chiefs, Asami had checked to make sure that it would be open late. It had these absurd little rickety boats shaped like turtleducks that people could rent to follow the night skyline of Republic City. It was shameless, and sentimental. And all Asami had wanted was to ask Korra out on a date. She’d wanted to wine and dine her. Make Korra feel like a person, loved and wanted. Not just a figurehead on the political stage.

It had been an impulse to instead walk away like she had. High on the rush of kissing Korra on the cheek, feeling her nervousness. Leaving her wanting more. It had seemed romantic at the time. Asami Sato, the charmer, the beautiful heiress with style and grace to spare. She hadn’t felt like that girl in so long.

But then an army had marched to their front door and demanded that the mighty Avatar bow her head while they invaded her city.

In all the carnage, the little cafe might not even be standing anymore.

The plan had always felt silly. Now, it didn't seem right to even think about when they couldn’t be sure that they'd survive to see nightfall.

As the workroom began to empty, Asami risked a glance up. She found Korra’s eyes staring back at her from the doorway. Hesitating. This confrontation with Kuvira had been weighing on her for so long, looming over her ever since Korra had returned. But the Avatar could not afford to be unsure right now.

It only took a beat before Korra began to march towards her.

Asami got to her feet, readying herself to get Korra back into focus. To remind her of the plan. To assure her that she was strong enough to deal with this. Korra needed to know how many people were behind her, supporting her.

“We’ll be ready,” Asami promised, but didn’t get another word in as Korra nearly collided with her, throwing her arms over Asami’s shoulders and pulling her into a tight hug.

Asami felt fingers slip into her hair, gripping the back of her neck. Shivers broke out down her spine. Korra squeezed. Asami welcomed a moment of solid comfort against her. She pulled closer, locking her arms together at the small of Korra’s back. An aching, nervous pressure built up inside her. Was this the last time they would hold each other?

Hands still bracing Asami’s neck, Korra managed to pull away a few inches. Keeping her close. They silently held onto each other, eyes locked. Trying to block out everything else around them. The burning sear of metalwork, the crash of marching out in the hallway, the quiet, persistent thud of the mechanical monster in the distance.

There was so much that could go wrong with this plan. There were so many people out there, in danger. Strangers, friends, family. Relying on both of them to be strong, to be brave. Asami realized that Korra must feel responsible for each and every one of them. Without a second guess, she would throw herself headlong in the path of danger to protect them.

A fresh, new panic bloomed up into her throat. Korra was a hero, not because she was the Avatar, but because she would put her life in danger to protect just about anyone. There was nothing Asami could do to keep her safe from that kind of selflessness.

Far off rumbling shook the air and the tower around them. It was getting louder. Dread swelled up in her. They could run away, right now. Leave Republic City behind and just survive. Together. It was a petty, cowardly thought. It wasn’t how either of them wanted to live their lives. If they had a few hours left, they were going to spend it doing what was right.

Asami grasped Korra’s arm, closing her eyes. Trying to keep hold of this little pocket of quiet. Despite all the shouting around them, the bustle of war, she had never wanted to be anywhere more than here at this moment.

She didn’t want to have to think back on the memory of Korra holding her. She wanted to always know this feeling. She wanted to live in it.

“Asami…”

At the flutter in Korra’s voice, Asami looked up to find wide, ice-blue eyes searching hers.

What about their lives would ever be normal? The nations of the world would never stop needing the protection of the Avatar. Asami would never stop being responsible for the thousands of lives and livelihoods of her company. The millions of lives in Republic City. She and Korra would always have parts to play in the grand scheme of the world. They were not the type of people who got quiet nights and turtleduck boats.

The distant boom came again, rumbling through the room, through Asami’s chest.

Asami closed the space between them, gently tugging Korra to her. She needed to silence whatever doubt was about to follow the sound of her name, whatever hesitations. Whatever goodbyes.

There was a moment of stillness as their lips met. The kiss was soft. Delicate, but sure. All the tension in Asami's body relaxed at once, as if she had been holding her breath for as long as she could remember, and only now had remembered how to exhale.

It wasn’t until she felt Korra finally breathe that Asami let her mouth drift against hers. The grip on the back of her neck tightened suddenly, and Korra pulled the kiss deeper. All the air fled Asami’s lungs, blood rushing out of her skull. Dizziness took over, and she felt her balance slipping, but Korra only held on tighter. She wouldn't let Asami fall.

The ground shuddered gently at a colossal step in the distance, and the sounds of the war came rushing back.

Asami broke for air, letting her forehead fall against Korra’s. “They need their Avatar,” she said, breathless. She looked up and found Korra’s eyes had gone misty.

“Be careful,” Korra insisted. She kept her hold on Asami’s face.

Asami gave her a thin, defiant smile. “Give her hell.”

Returning the smirk, Korra leaned in and kissed her. Firm, like she was the only source of air in the room. Asami melted into her, going a little lightheaded. She clung to Korra’s wrists, never wanting to let go.

Another rumbling footstep. The shelves in the workroom rattled at the impact.

It shook Asami back to the present. Though every cell in her body screamed at her not to, she pulled back from Korra. “Go.” she urged. The word barely came out over the panic rising in her throat. She swallowed it back down. “We both have work to do.”

Korra nodded reluctantly, letting her hands slowly fall. Tightness coiled in Asami’s chest once more at the loss. Asami grabbed Korra’s arm, desperate to keep hold. When she finally let Korra begin to drift backward, only an inch slipped from her grasp at a time. First her wrist, then her hand, then her fingers. Finally, without the tether of Asami’s hold, Korra managed to turn for the door.

Silently following, Asami watched her rush down the corridor to catch up with the others. The cold echo of the marching assault team and the harsh buzz of power generators were suffocating.

“I didn’t get a proper goodbye with your mother,” Hiroshi said.

Asami felt a blush rise up in her face. She’d forgotten that her father had been in the room just now. She turned to see him climbing from the hummingbird’s cockpit. When he reached her side they watched the assault team rush down the hall, Korra hurrying to the lead.

“Should I count my blessings, then?” Asami asked. She chewed her lip, trying to will her breathing to return to normal. It continued to shake, threatening to break into sobs.

“Come here,” he said gently, reaching out to her. Asami slipped into Hiroshi’s arms, resting her head on his chest. He had gotten so much thinner since the last time they’d hugged each other. It felt foreign, like Asami had been without him for decades, not years. He was gaunt, and tired, and older, but the kind glimmer in his eyes was more than familiar. She had her father again. He was going to help her through this. Through the work they still had to do. Through the battle. Through everything that threatened to drown her. She didn’t have to do this alone.

“I love you, Dad,” she murmured into his flight suit.

“I love you, too,” he said, calmly rubbing her back. After a moment, he pulled back to smile down at her. “See?” he said, “Very easy.” He brushed a tangle of hair from his daughter’s face. “You’ll tell her when you both come back. Understand?”

Asami nodded, wiping stray tears from her eyes. Throwing an arm over her shoulder, Hiroshi pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Good. Now let’s go make sure that happens.” He handed her welding mask over and they returned to their task.