Chapter Text
Asami woke to the sound of something beeping and Korra’s face smushed into her stomach.
“Mmmph,” Asami groaned as she flopped her hand around Korra’s bedside table, trying to find whatever was making the noise so she could kill it.
“Stop moving,” Korra slurred into her shirt. Asami took a second to ponder how Korra could even breathe under all the covers and then grudgingly lifted up her head and actually opened her eyes.
“Korra, your laptop is… ringing?”
“Well answer it or something, I don’t care, just make it stop and then lay back down. I was in the perfect sleeping position.”
“Suffocation isn’t usually my preferred mode of sleep, but to each her own,” Asami grumbled as she fumbled for the laptop. She plopped it on her chest, narrowly missing Korra’s head and mashed the trackpad.
All of a sudden, a picture bloomed onto the screen. Actually, Asami corrected herself, it was a video. A video of a man and a woman, both of whom were staring rather bemusedly at her through the screen.
“Um, hello?” The man said. He had long brown hair that was pulled back out of his face and dark skin. He leaned in towards the screen and gave her a confused smile. “You’re not my daughter.”
Asami barely heard his last statement because his crooked smile had immediately clicked into place in her brain. She knew that smile. That smile was probably her favorite thing in the world.
She realized all at once, her thoughts wooshing down over her like an icy waterfall, that she was currently video chatting Korra’s parents, in Korra’s bed, wearing Korra’s sweatshirt. And to make everything that much better, her hair looked like Naga had styled it herself.
The squeal she let out as she dove beneath the covers was almost as embarrassing as all her previous trespasses combined.
She reached back over the covers and spun the laptop away from where she was hiding. “Korra, WAKE UP!”
Korra finally poked her head up from under the blankets. “What is even happening right now?” She grumbled. She managed to wiggle up into a sitting position and Asami couldn’t help but smile as Korra swiped her bangs out of her eyes, squinted at the screen, and then enthusiastically greeted her parents.
“Mom, Dad! What’s up? It’s gotta be late where you are-Asami what are you doing, get up here!”
“Ah, so the stranger in your bed has a name,” Korra’s mom laughed.
Asami calculated if she could crawl under the covers all the way off the end of the bed and somehow roll out the door so that nobody ever saw her face again, but Korra effectively ended her mental scheming by grasping her arm and dragging her out from her hiding spot.
‘Umm, hi. I’m sorry about earlier. I wouldn’t have answered it if I’d known it was you- not that, I mean I’m sure you guys are nice people- but…” Asami sighed in defeat and self-consciously smoothed her hair while Korra and her family erupted into laughter.
“See guys, I told you she was funny.” Asami tried to drum up some righteous indignation about being laughed at, but she didn’t feel like they were really making fun of her. Also, Korra’s parents seemed warm and immediately likeable, just like their daughter.
Korra’s dad leaned in to peer closer at Asami’s face. “Ohhh, so this is that Asami! Nice to meet you, kid. You can call me Tonraq, and this is my wife Senna. Korra got her devilish good looks from me, though-OW!” Tonraq winced and rubbed his arm where Senna had whacked him, “And, apparently, she got her fighting spirit from her mother.”
Asami giggled at their antics. Yes, she could definitely tell Korra was related to these two. What a wonderful family.
“It’s nice to meet you both as well. I ran into some traffic last night after the uh… incident, and Korra was kind enough to let me stay over and borrow some clothes.”
The lighthearted grins fell of Tonraq and Senna’s faces. Senna leaned in closer to the camera. “That’s actually what we called about. Korra, honey, is everything ok? We heard about the most recent bombing in the news. What’s going on? Is Tenzin involved in any of this?”
Korra nudged Asami softly with her elbow and said, “Hey, why don’t you take first shower. I’ll meet you down at breakfast, ok?”
Asami nodded a goodbye to Korra’s parents and took the out Korra had so easily given her. Even if it wasn’t what she was set on doing as a career, Korra knew how to navigate through and around tough topics, and she definitely seemed to sense when Asami didn’t want to talk about something.
Asami showered quickly and didn’t bother to dry her hair. She tucked it up into a loose bun and put her own pants on. After a slight hesitation, she pulled Korra’s hoodie back on and then fit her leather jacket over it. It was a bit tight with the extra bulk, but to Asami the layers felt like armor. She knew she was being slightly ridiculous, but the thought of her day to come made her want to suit up as much as possible.
After a bit of debate, Asami decided against saying goodbye to Korra. She could hear Korra laughing through the door and the softer sounds of her parents talking back. Asami didn’t want to interrupt, and she had a stop to make before Korra came over tonight to put their plan into action. Plan into action… they sounded like some teen spy novel. Or maybe Kim Possible. Asami liked to think she’d be Kim, but then again, Ron had always been hopelessly crushing on Kim, hadn’t he? Maybe she was better suited to the sidekick lifestyle. Asami started to chuckle to herself at the image of Korra in cargo pants, but then the figure of Hiroshi as a cartoony villain slipped uninvited into her head and her laugh cut itself off.
She busies herself counting the stairs. Multiplying dividing, trying to make the numbers click into ratios and equations that made some sort of sense. By the time she’d padded all the way down to the living room, Asami discovered the final count, 13, fit nicely into the Fibonacci sequence and that solid fact stabilized her as she fished for her moped keys in the inner pocket of her jacket.
“Not staying for breakfast?”
Asami startled at Tenzin’s unexpected presence. He was sitting on the front porch sipping on a mug of tea. She hadn’t noticed him through the screen door, hence her slight heart attack.
She dropped down to sit next to him on the front steps. “You scared me, Tenzin. But no, I don’t think so. I have an… errand I need to take care of this morning.
“So, how are you and Korra?”
Asami freezes, which probably looked pretty comical if she had been paying attention because her hand was halfway through it’s motion to brush her hair back out of her face and now she was just awkwardly face palming. But, Asami noticed none of this because she was too busy freaking the fuck out. How? How did Tenzin know about her feelings? And why would he assume-
“Uh, what? I mean-nothing is, nothing- ummm….” Asami paused long enough to actually look at Tenzin, who was turned towards her with a rather bemused expression on his face. Then Asami understood, about twenty seconds too late, dumbass, that Tenzin hadn’t been alluding to her feelings for Korra at all. But, if he had been clueless before, he certainly wasn’t now; her flustered reaction had made sure of that.
Tenzin frowned thoughtfully, “Oh.” Then he lifted a large palm and patted Asami’s shoulder. His hand was warm from being wrapped around his teacup and it felt good, solid, bracing Asami’s shoulder. “Not exactly what I meant, but we can talk about that too if you want.”
Asami couldn’t help but smile weakly at how ridiculous this day was going so far. Tenzin noticed her smile and matched it with one of his own. She knew he probably felt a little awkward, offering to talk with a teenage girl about her feelings, but he was offering, and that gave Asami a bit of extra support that she needed to get through this day.
The reminder of what she needed to go do now made the ever-present knot in her gut give a sickening roll and her smile drooped. She turned her head slightly so Tenzin wouldn’t notice.
“Thank you, Tenzin, but I actually meant it when I said nothing is going on. Korra, uh, isn’t aware of my… feelings towards her. At all.”
Tenzin harumphs. “That kid can be pretty dense, can’t she?” Asami was startled into laughter.
“I wouldn’t have her any other way, honestly. It’s part of her charm. But Tenzin,” Asami hesitates, “can you maybe not say anything to her about this? It’s not the best time right now.”
A slip of sorrow fell over Tenzin’s face and he turned to look towards where the city skyline would spike up into the sky, visible if not for the trees blanketing the quiet streets.
“I cannot argue with you there, Asami.” He slowly unfolded his large frame into a standing position, and it reminded Asami just how much older Tenzin was then he looked. He offered her a hand up and she accepted.
“I’ll see you around, Tenzin. Thank you for letting me stay last night.”
Asami nodded goodbye to him and slid her helmet on. The sun was inching its way over the tree line, and she had somewhere to be.
------------
It took her almost an hour to get downtown, going around all the blockades and reroutes. The Triple Threats owned nearly half a block of pawn shops and electronics stores that were now just smoke and rubble. Rubble that was making it sincerely hard for Asami to get where she was going.
When she finally pulled up to the apartment building, it was past nine. She nodded at the doorman. “Hey, Jackson.”
The older man did a double take, “Why, is that Asami Sato? I haven’t seen you around here in ages! You’ve grown quite a bit.” He pulled her into a quick side hug and nodded at the elevators.
“I’m pretty sure Oran and Testa are home. You remember which floor?”
Asami nodded, “Sure do. Thanks Jackson, I’ll see you around?”
Jackson smiled, the lines on his face almost overtaking his eyes. “Of course, my dear. Come see me more often.”
Asami was still a little on edge, but memories of sun hazy afternoons spent exploring this very apartment building eased the tension in her shoulders a bit. There was nothing to fear here. Only answers.
She squirmed as the elevator rose, unsure as to how she’d be received. It really had been years since she’d ridden the elevator up to the 8th floor and clung to Hiroshi’s pant leg as he knocked on Apartment 8F’s door.
The door swung open after only a few seconds, and then Asami was looking into the startled face of her old babysitter, Oran. Who, coincidentally, also happened to be Future Industry’s second in command.
For the second time in five minutes, Asami was pulled into a hug. This time, she couldn’t help but giggle as Oran tucked her head under his arm and tweaked her bun.
“Well, well, to what do I owe this pleasure? Did you smell breakfast? Tetsa’s making his world famous waffles. Come on in, little Sato.”
“Oran, I don’t really need breakfast, I just came to ask you about some things.”
Asami couldn’t help the fondness that bubbled up in her as the tall Water Tribe man pulled at his short beard, like he always did when he was curious.
“Perfect, we can talk over breakfast!” Oran grinned, not about to let Asami shut him down, and they both knew it. She sighed in defeat and gestured with her chin for him to lead the way.
“You know, you’re quite spry for an old man.”
Oran gasped in fake affront, “Old man? Old man! I’m only thirty-nine you little smart-aleck. Oy, Tetsa! Look who’s here!” Without waiting for his husband to turn around, Oran wrapped him in a bear hug from behind and spun him around to face Asami.
Tetsa was a big, burly guy with tattoos that twined up and down both arms. He worked at a small flower shop down the street from Future Industry’s main tower. Oran had been a lower level engineer when he and Tetsa had first started watching Asami, after her mother died and Hiroshi was still trying to wrangle Asami, his grief, and the biggest company in Republic City. A close family friend, even before Yasuko’s death, he rose through the ranks at Future Industry with ease, and the promotion to second in command was well-deserved. Oran was a kind, brilliant man; someone Asami could trust.
“Well hey there little monkey, where have you been?” Asami stepped forward into his offered hug and blushed at the old nickname.
“I’m sorry guys, I really am. It’s just… school’s been tough, and I think there’s something going on with Da-“
“School’s been tough? You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met, Asami and that’s not an exaggeration. How could school be tough?” Oran looked a little manic, a little outraged, but mostly concerned. His moods were so familiar that nostalgia engulfed Asami. She missed spending time with Oran and Tetsa, she missed her dad coming to pick her up at the end of the day, tired with ink smeared fingertips, but always willing to crouch down and tug her into a hello hug.
“Hush, Oran, let her speak would you? Actually, just go sit down at the table, both of you. The waffles are ready.” Tetsa shooed them out of the kitchen and Oran snagged an extra plate and fork for Asami off the counter.
Asami pulled out her chair and looked at Oran, “School’s not hard because of the coursework. You know I’ve never quite fit in there.”
Oran nodded, subdued for once. “I know that, kiddo. But I thought, when you walked in here, that you looked stronger. Shoulders back, head up,” Oran gave her a small smile, “I don’t know, you just looked like you were doing alright.”
Asami leaned back in her chair, considering Oran’s words. “Actually, I made some new friends a couple of weeks ago. They’ve been good for me. School’s not my biggest problem any more… it’s the other thing.”
“The other thing?” Tetsa asked as he set a platter piled high with waffles down in the center of the table.
“Lay it on us, I am fully ready to listen and not interrupt this time,” Oran grinned as he dug into his waffle. “Thanks hun, these are delicious.”
Asami rolled her eyes when Oran kissed Testsa’s knuckles and started stuffing waffle into her mouth. These two were the sappiest couple she’d ever met and she was very used to their antics by now.
Her waffle slid down her throat and she methodically sliced it with her fork, taking time to settle herself and focus. She could trust these two, and she needed to know if Oran knew anything about her dad’s whereabouts these last few months. If he could clear everything up, then she and Korra didn’t have to go through with their plan tonight.
Thinking of Korra put steel back into her bones, and she straightened so she could tilt her chin up to look Oran in the eyes.
“Dad hasn’t been coming home from work. Or if he does, it’s late. Really late. He says he’s working on projects, but I’ve checked the computers, there’s nothing scheduled for him. He keeps missing Fridays.” at this, Oran frowned. He knew how much Asami valued the time working on her car with her father. Hell, he knew how much Hiroshi enjoyed it as well.
“Oran, you need to tell me what he’s been doing at work. I need to know.” Asami stopped and took a few breaths. Her fingers were tingling and she could feel the anxiety uncurling in her gut and making it’s way up into her throat.
Oran leaned back in his chair, tenting his fingers on his lap. The normal exuberant man was silent, and this alone was enough for Asami to know.
“I… I don’t know what to tell you, kiddo. Whenever Hiroshi’s at work, which isn’t often these days, he’s locked up in his private workshop. You know him, he never lets anyone in there.” Oran sighed, “Honestly, I thought he was maybe starting to pull himself together and spend more time with you, more than just Fridays. But as it seems, that is not the case.”
“He hasn’t been at work?” Asami would have been embarrassed by the way her voice squeaked if a creeping horror wasn’t slowly choking her. Tetsa leaned over and laid a hand on her shoulder.
“What’s going on, Asami?”
Asami abruptly stood up and her chair made an awful croaking noise as it scraped across the floor tiles.
“Nothing-I don’t know. I have to go.” She grabbed her jacket off the counter and strode quickly to the door. Oran was protesting behind her and she heard Tetsa stand up, but she didn’t look back.
Out in the parking lot, after nodding a short, pained goodbye to Jackson, Asami pulled out her phone and shot Korra a text.
Have Tenzin drop you off at my place tonight. We’re doing this.
Korra texted back within seconds.
LET’S GOOOOO! (We’ll figure this out Asami, I promise).
Asami shoved her helmet on and gulped. She didn’t text Korra back, but her reply floated across her mind, unbidden.
I don’t want to know. I really don’t.