Chapter Text
Korra
She was no stranger to the darkness and knew its secrets like the back of her hand. With a simple command, "Close your eyes," she instructed, "Take a deep breath, become a leaf and enter the void." She became weightless. There was no hiding the fact that she stood as one of the most infamous thieves around.
Korra strode down the grand hallway of the mansion she had targeted for the night. The marble floor, giant poles stretching to the super high roof, and an incredulous staircase made of expensive marble stone with gold railing all gave an air of magnificence. The hallways were decorated with sculptures and flowers, and the walls were adorned with rare paintings. It was a labyrinth of luxury, and Korra began to worry that she might get lost in its maze. It was silent, except for the sound of her own light steps, and the stillness made her uneasy.
She had made her way up to the second floor, where she had a higher probability of finding what she sought after: jewellery, accessories, and perhaps a vault. She loved vaults. They were like unwrapping a Christmas present; you never knew what you would find inside. Korra couldn't help but grin at the thought.
A house can reveal a lot about its owner, and this mansion was no exception. It felt more like a museum than a home, with nothing personal to be found except for the occupants' wealth and a half cogwheel as their symbol. The cog felt out of place to Korra; she had expected something more ostentatious, like a fire bird or a dragon. Her musings were interrupted by the sight of a colossal painting hanging on the wall. It wasn't just any painting by a famous artist, but a family portrait of exquisite craftsmanship.
An older man, finely dressed with small round glasses, a golden watch pocket, and a smile under his moustache, stood proudly in the portrait. A beautiful woman with simple attire but luxurious black hair and gentle eyes stood beside him. In front of them stood a small child, a girl, the spitting image of the woman holding her hand. The child looked happy, and the painting felt out of place.
Korra stared at the portrait, captivated by an inexplicable force. Perhaps it was because the image represented everything she could have had if not for that fateful night so long ago.
"So this is the family…" she murmured to herself, her eyes scanning the portrait intently. "Maybe there is a vault behind it!"
With a gentle push, Korra moved the painting to the side and peeked behind it, hoping for a hidden compartment. Unfortunately, all she found was a solid wall. "Nope, just a wall. Shaaame," she muttered disappointedly, releasing the painting back into its original position.
She took one last look at the family in the portrait and continued down the hallway. As she approached a door, she pressed her ear against it, listening for any sounds of movement. When met with silence, she cautiously opened the door and stepped inside. It was just another large room, filled with expensive furnishings but nothing of interest to her.
Korra repeated this process for several more rooms, growing increasingly frustrated with the family's opulent lifestyle. Finally, she found herself in an office and let out a sigh of relief. "Yes! Finally something of worth," she whispered to herself as she closed the door behind her.
Korra took a quick scan of the office, noting the organized chaos of blueprints, papers, and machine parts scattered about. She knew she had to be careful not to move anything, as even the slightest disturbance could give her away. She moved over to the walls, examining the paintings of various car models, but found nothing useful.
Turning her attention to the desk, Korra began opening drawers, searching for anything valuable. She came across a stack of papers, contracts, and sketches, delicately drawn with beautiful ink pencils. Despite not knowing what the sketches were of, she couldn't resist the urge to take some and stow them away in her backpack.
Her eyes then fell upon a picture of the man and girl from the family portrait. They had aged significantly in the photo, and were now working on a small air plane with grease-stained hands and smiles on their faces. Korra felt a pang of jealousy for the family's carefree happiness, before quickly shaking the feeling off and resuming her search for something to steal.
As Korra delved deeper into the desk's drawers, she discovered more pictures of the family, building and beaming with pride. Were they mechanics? Inventors? Manufacturers? She refused to look up the house before entering, for it would ruin the exploration. No, she preferred to learn about the people from within their own abode. What she did notice, however, was the absence of the beautiful woman, the mother, from the more recent snapshots. Had they divorced? It was hardly an uncommon occurrence among the wealthy.
Setting down the picture frame in its exact position, Korra continued her search through the drawers with utmost care. Papers, metal parts, pens, ink, and a watch caught her eye. It was the golden watch that the man wore in the picture. Gently picking it up and examining it, she found the words "To my Beloved Hiroshi Sato" inscribed on the back. Korra blinked. While it was a personal object that would be missed, the watch was also ridiculously expensive, with diamonds engraved on its sides. Perhaps he wouldn't notice its absence, and it was better off in her hands. With that in mind, she stowed it away in her bag.
In the last drawer, tucked away as if hidden, Korra discovered a cut-out newspaper clip. It read, "Hiroshi Sato, Owner of Future Industries, Going to Prison for Involvement with the Equalists." The date was nearly five years ago, and the man in the grayscale photo looked almost livid. He was a different man from the one in the pictures with his daughter. Korra's lips thinned, and a pang of sadness struck her. "I guess he won't miss it after all," she muttered to herself, before carefully placing the worn paper back in its proper place and shutting the drawer.
Korra slipped out of the office and made her way to the end of the hall. She had a keen sense of how mansions were structured, and knew that the bedrooms were usually located on the highest floor and furthest away. She paused, listening intently. This could be the door that was making a sound. Carefully, she surveyed her surroundings, noticing that there was no light spilling out from underneath the door and no sound of breathing. It was as quiet as all the other rooms in the mansion. She rubbed her gloved hands against her pants before opening the door with a quiet click, revealing a massive bedroom complete with a separate restroom containing a toilet and shower. To her delight, there was even a small office desk in the corner adorned with familiar sketches and blueprints. Korra tiptoed into the room, noting the color scheme of black and red that was very reminiscent of the Fire Nation. However, she knew from her tour of the house that the family had mixed origins.
Taking a moment to survey her surroundings, Korra observed that the bed appeared untouched while the desk was quite disheveled, indicating that she should proceed with caution. A vanity desk against the wall suggested that this was a woman's room, along with a bedside table, a balcony, and a walk-in closet. She was almost certain that this was the young woman's bedroom and the place where she would find the most loot. Korra set to work, utilizing the method she and her team always used. First, they targeted only wealthy individuals, taking only odd numbers of items, with a maximum of three items of each type. They only took things of value that wouldn't be missed, avoiding anything with emotional value.
Korra started in the restroom, taking note of the many expensive bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and other luxurious toiletries. She selected one of each that was unopened and furthest behind, unlikely to be missed. The perfumes, powders, and soft towels were all divine, but they were not what she was there for. Next, she moved to the vanity desk, carefully sifting through the beautiful accessories without causing any disorder. She cracked her fingers and neck before reaching for her magnifying glass, carefully examining the items to determine which ones were worn and which ones were unused. It took her a bit of time, but she was finally satisfied with her collection. Finally, she checked the bedside table drawers and found a gorgeous hairpin, featuring a golden flower with a jade centre. It wasn't of any significant value, but she liked it and slipped it into her pocket with a smile.
Korra approached the small office desk with low expectations, but was drawn in by the intricate sketches laid out before her. The delicate lines and complex structure of what appeared to be a robot bird fascinated her, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was the work of Hiroshi's daughter, who may have taken over Future Industries with her mother since his imprisonment.
As she searched the desk for more clues, Korra's eyes fell upon a bundle of news clips hidden away in one of the drawers. A pang of excitement shot through her as she eagerly sifted through the articles, her heart racing with anticipation.
But as she read through the headlines, her smile faded into a look of shock and disbelief. Hiroshi's life had been cut short by cancer, leaving his daughter Asami to take the reins as the youngest CEO in the nations. Future Industries was now helping to rebuild Republic City with new infrastructure, and Asami had become a legend among inventors.
But then Korra found an old newspaper clip that stopped her in her tracks. Hiroshi's wife had been killed in a brutal break-in at their home, carried out by the notorious Agni Kai Triad nearly twenty years ago. The tragedy hit Korra like a ton of bricks – it wasn't just a divorce, it was a murder.
Slumping down into the chair by the desk, Korra felt defeated and powerless. She knew that she shouldn't be sitting down, as it could leave traces of her presence, but the weight of the woman's loss was too much to bear.
"I guess the more you have, the more you lose too," she muttered to herself, the words heavy on her heart.
Korra didn't have much to her name. She was a criminal, and her only companions were two brothers who were hardly better than herself. They had each other, and together they scraped by. But they couldn't stay in one place for too long, always on the move, always looking over their shoulders. Most importantly, no one to tie them down.
They'd arrived in Republic City just a few days ago, and they needed money to get started. So they'd split up, each going their own way. It was a rule they all understood: if one of them got caught, they wouldn't drag the rest of the crew down with them. Mako and Korra were used to it, but Bolin was always more sensitive. The Crew couldn't break up, he'd say.
So far, they'd been good. They hadn't been caught. But Korra knew it was only a matter of time.
Now, standing in the mansion, she understood why it felt like a museum. It was a shrine to the family who'd once lived there, now just a ghost of the past. Sure, she was a criminal, with a long list of offences to her name. But she was no murderer.
But to Asami, if she ever found out that Korra had been in her home, would there really be a difference? Korra felt like scum.
Korra surveyed her backpack, brimming with valuable goods. The woman she had just robbed may have been wealthy, but aside from material possessions, they were not so dissimilar. Both were alone, hiding painful memories in their respective drawers.
With a deep sigh, Korra rose from her seat and approached the bed, dumping out the contents of her bag onto the duvet. Careful to organize everything in neat sections, she deliberated over which items to keep. The sketches were her favourite, and they couldn't possibly hurt to take, could they?
Korra settled back into her chair and produced a pen and some blank paper. Though she knew it was madness, she felt compelled to leave a note. The woman would never be able to track her down; Korra had stopped existing long ago. After penning the letter, she extracted the hairpin from her pocket, admiring its beauty in the moonlight.
"Of course, it's hers. The same pin in the woman had in the portrait. You keep it locked away too, Asami," Korra muttered to herself.
Breaking into the homes of the rich was child's play for someone like her. It didn't matter what she took; these spoiled people had so much that they wouldn't even notice. Their houses overflowed with expensive material possessions, but it would never be enough. Korra had not expected to stumble upon something like Asami Sato's home.
With a sigh, she placed the letter and hairpin on the bed and made her way out of the mansion. As she trudged back to her own rundown home, she couldn't help but reflect on the irony of it all. For the wealthy, the material possessions they amassed were never enough. But for her, a criminal with nothing to her name, the things she stole held little value. She hadn't expected to find such a kindred spirit in the home of a wealthy inventor, but it just went to show, money couldn't buy happiness. She was about to collapse onto her threadbare couch upon arriving home, carelessly tossing her empty bag into a corner.
“KORRA!!! You are home, it took ages. I thought they had caught you!” Bolin threw himself on Korra. Bolin's desperate embrace threatened to crush Korra as she stumbled into their hideout.
After a few flailing attempts, she managed to disentangle herself from his grip.
"Sorry about that," Bolin said, grinning sheepishly.
Korra coughed, giving him a withering glare. "What happened? We've been waiting for you for hours," Mako said, entering the room.
"It was a bad night. I didn't make anything," Korra replied with a shrug.
Mako sighed. "I hear you. Those metal cops are making it impossible to work without getting caught."
Thankfully, Bolin had some good news. "Pabu and I managed to make a few coins with our street performance," he said, showing off three coins in his hand.
Korra and Mako exchanged glances before offering half-hearted praise.
“That’s…great Bo…”
“Yea! Keep it up…bro.”
Bolin's tendency to be too honest had gotten him into trouble more times than they could count. They all knew that they needed to find a way out of their current lives as criminals, but they had no other options.
"At least we have some money left over from Gaoling, but we need more to make rent or we'll lose our apartment," Korra said with a huff.
"Apartment? We live in the attic above the pro-bending arena!" Mako retorted.
"Which is still better than where we've been before," Korra shoot back.
"And the view is amazing. We can see Yue Bay and the air temple from up here," Bolin added with wonder.
Mako and Korra exchanged a look before they shook their heads. "Let’s just eat, I brought groceries with me to make stir fry." Mako showed his bag with ingredients.
Despite their difficult circumstances, they maintained their routine of sharing food and laughs, with the hope that tomorrow would bring a better day. Mako and Korra secretly wished for a way out of their criminal lifestyle, but with limited options, they tried to find solace in each other's company.
The brothers slumbered soundly in their bed, while Korra found herself restless on the couch. Her mind wandered, drawn to thoughts of Asami in the early hours of the morning. Would she have made it home by now? Had she read the letter? Did she know that Korra had broken in? As the sun threatened to rise, Korra's thoughts spun, leaving her feeling dizzy and disoriented. Finally, exhaustion overtook her and she drifted off to sleep.
Asami
Asami shut the door behind her and turned the key with a sharp click. She exhaled a deep breath, her body weary from the long day. At last, the final infrastructure plans for the city had been submitted, but it was yet another late night--3 or 4am, she couldn't be sure. Too drained to eat dinner, she made her way up the stairs and towards her bedroom.
The mansion was silent, but it had been that way since her childhood. No one spent much time here; her penthouse apartment at Future Industry Tower felt more like home. Asami walked into her bedroom and tossed her black and red jacket onto the small office desk before heading to her restroom. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and saw a face worn down by exhaustion.
"That's what happens when you work late for a whole week, Asami," she scolded herself.
She washed her face, wiped off her makeup, and felt marginally better. Asami emerged from the restroom and glanced over at her bed, then double-checked when something caught her eye. Her belongings were arranged neatly at the foot of the bed--earrings, rings, armbands, necklaces, jewels, even her father's watch. Panic surged through her, and she froze until she noticed a letter and her mother's hairpin. Asami picked them up, her heart racing.
'
Dear Miss Asami Sato,
I trust you don’t mind that I've taken the liberty of granting myself access to your exquisite abode. Your home, I must admit, a treasure trove for a thief like me.
These desolate corridors of yours have witnessed my silent steps, and I have ventured into these uninhabited chambers. Regrettably, I emerge from this expedition empty-handed, not for a lack of enticing opportunities, for your residence offers a plethora of treasures for a practitioner of my craft.
Miss Sato, it is not my custom to write to those I invade. Any attempts to trace this correspondence shall prove futile, for I am but a fleeting shadow, easily dissipated with the introduction of light.
Yet, I am intimately acquainted with the realms of pain and obscurity. Deep-seated wounds are etched within my very being, scars that manifest in the mirror of my own eyes. In your drawers, your pain lie, I extend my sincerest condolences for the losses you've endured. Despite your losses, you continue to weave wonders, for both benders and the rest.
This letter I pen to declare my presence. In this particular instance, I felt it incumbent upon me to do so. Enclosed within this letter, a list to protect your home from thieves, from me, against future intrusions.
In the search for light, it is often encountered. Yet, if darkness is your quest, it shall embrace you entirely.
—Yours in shadow.
'
Fury boiled inside her.
"What in the world?" Asami fumed.
Someone had broken into her home and left a letter saying sorry? Asami frantically searched every room, but it seemed that nothing had been taken. Her frustration grew until she finally noticed that two sketches of the hummingbird core were missing from her desk. Asami's heart raced, and she ran back to her bedroom, where she let out a scream of frustration.
"No, no, no! They can't be gone!" she exclaimed.
Asami had finally discovered how to make the hummingbird suit work, and now those final sketches were gone. She paced back and forth, her hair a tangled mess. As Asami's pulse slows and her emotions cool, she snatched up the offending letter as if it were a venomous serpent. The words felt like a barb, embedded deep within her skin. It was a bitter pill to swallow, to know that her home was as vast as it was vacant. And to think that the thief had pitied her so much that they had returned her belongings and issued an apology, it was almost too much to bear. After all, what kind of criminal breaks in only to leave behind a checklist of precautions to prevent further burglaries?
Asami couldn't help but feel as though her life was nothing but a cruel joke. The laughter threatened to bubble up inside her, but she choked it down, gritting her teeth in frustration. She held her mothers hair pin, the glinting metal a symbol of her determination.
"A shadow is not invisible," she murmured under her breath, the words a vow of retribution. "I will find you."