Chapter Text
If Korra were to be honest, she’d say she was perfectly content with how her life was right now. She had two of the most, awesome people in the planet eating with her at lunch and walking with her pretty much everywhere in school. At home, she’d have another person to hang with, name was Naga and okay, so what if Naga wasn’t a person. Naga was Korra’s best friend, and okay so what if she was a polar bear dog, she was Korra’s childhood best friend and Naga, well, Naga was always there for her. Just like her two other best friends were.
If Korra were to lie, she’d say she wasn’t okay with how things are. She’d say she’s hurt, in pain, slowly dying, withering away, breaking, status: probably in a wheel chair, can’t go on any longer, tired—everything synonymous to agony and misery. She had, probably half, of the people in the planet bullying her. She had a few classes without her two best friends, leaving her to be this loner with no one to talk to and, no one to borrow a pen from. At home, well it wasn’t so bad. Not while a car of annoying, rowdy teenagers would stop by her neighbor’s house and, typically, yell out names to her as they went off into the late hour. Probably out to party or… something cool kids usually do.
Korra was always honest. She had great mentors and absolutely wonderful parents, who nurtured her into the fine little… girl she is today.
Korra would never lie. She had been taught that lying was wrong, that no good would ever come to it.
But at the end of the day, when she’d bury herself into Naga’s soft fur, she’d always end up thinking of the same three things:
I’m not completely honest with myself.
I’m not perfectly content of how things are.
I am not okay.
And to her, knowing that she isn’t, makes her a tad think that she is honest. Because, well, at least she knows that she’s not being honest. She, and of course, her childhood best friend, Naga.
That is just plain o’l logic to plain o’l Korra.
And besides, she’s never really complained to anyone else, told them of her pain, her thoughts, her feelings.
She could do this. She would not be okay, but she would be fine.
And that was fine for Korra, and she knew it was, maybe, fine for Naga too.
Korra jolted the moment the school bell rang.
It was always an unpleasant noise to her, sending chills down her spine. It was a time bomb, signaling her to go back into a confided four cornered room, with pairs of eyes staring at her with much distaste. With her best friends there, said two most awesome people in the planet, it didn’t seem so bad. With those two wonderful beings there, she wouldn’t really care about the disconcerting stares. Bolin told her not to mind them, and he’d make her laugh instead. Mako would scold them for not paying attention to the teacher, and he’d scold the other kids too when they’d whisper something mean to Korra.
It was their usual routine.
And Korra enjoyed it.
But as much as she enjoyed it, she would also still have to deal with a few classes on her own. And they were awful. She’d be alone. She'd feel terribly alone.
Just like right now.
Only difference was, she wasn’t in her class. Yet. But she was about to be, just until she could find her pen that ought to be in her locker, somewhere.
“Crap, where did it go.”
She kept rummaging through the clatter in her messy, messy locker. It was so messy that she was sure it had been a battlefield of some sort of war.
By now, Korra could already hear the students from behind, all probably bustling to get to their respective classes.
Come on, come on, come on. Where the hell are you.
She began frantically opening all the books and notebooks, flipping them over in search of that tiny mechanism thing that would serve as her weapon for the next 8 hours. Korra could almost hear Tenzin’s all-knowing sage voice, “It is best to always prepare ourselves for hwhat is coming,” or “You’ll never know how painful regret is until you experience it firsthand.”
Yeah, like I didn’t prepare myself bef—oof!
Bang.
Somebody slammed her into the locker.
“So long, loser!” She heard the distant squeaking of sneakers rubbing against linoleum, as well as the obnoxious laughing that came along with it. Korra didn’t bother looking behind. Deep down, she already knew it coming. She just wasn’t prepared for it, entirely. She gingerly rubbed the left side of her forehead. Probably going to leave a mark later. Note to self: bring first-aid kit to school tomorrow. And get ice later in the nurse’s office. Korra then continued to look for that, oh so needed pen.
She knew Bolin wouldn’t have an extra one and Mako, the one she’d usually borrow from, wouldn’t be in their class right now. Borrowing from the teachers again was too embarrassing.
“If you were a soldier headed to war, you’d probably be dead by now,” Lin would say.
The noises in the hallway were now slowly fading.
She stopped her search and finally, slowly turned around.
The hallway was already empty.
And she was still horrifyingly penless. Weaponless. Unarmed.
Terrr-ific.
Korra slammed her locker shut, slammed her head into it, slammed her fist into it, and made heavy steps to her first class, without that pen.
Somebody probably managed to take it, again.
“—and as I have mentioned for the umpteenth time now, there is no such thing as a negative zero. I am looking at you, Hasook—“ Korra wasn’t taking down notes. She never has, let alone right now, without a stupid pen. She just liked the idea of being prepared, of having something to fiddle with during uninteresting discussions, something to hold on to.
She felt a poke on her shoulder.
“What took you so long?” Bolin whispered, seated behind her. Thankfully enough, Korra managed to slip into class without the teacher noticing. It was a skill she had grown to learn, after all those days of going to school tardy. And man, was she getting good at it. Tenzin would not approve.
Korra thrummed her fingers against her desk. “I, uh, got to school late and I couldn’t find my pen… again,” she muttered.
Bolin seemed to snort at this. “I swear, Tahno has something to do with it, I just know it.” Bolin clenched his fists. “I mean, it’s been happening a lot lately, and he always holds out a pen whenever we pass by him at the cafeteria!” He whispered harshly. “The same kind of pen you happen to have! Tell me that’s not obvious!”
“Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of us, Bolin?” The teacher looked at him from above his lenses.
Korra held back a chuckle.
“No, no, sir. We were just- uh talking about equations and stuff, no funny business here, nope, no sirr-y.” Bolin gestured between him and Korra. “Yep, equations. Right, Kor?” He nudged her.
Korra nodded. “Equations, yeah.”
The whole class snickered.
The teacher seemed to buy it, or so they hoped. He hummed, eyeing the two suspiciously. “Equations, yes. Speaking of equations," he mocked, "Grab a piece of paper, grab your pens, we’re having a quiz about equations. Specifically, our equations.” He finished, satisfied of the students' groans that followed.
“Thanks a lot, losers.” Somebody grumbled.
Bolin glared at the offender.
It didn’t go unnoticed by the teacher, however. He pushed his glasses up before saying, “Say that one more time and I’ll magically transform this short quiz into a long quiz.”
Korra was chewing on her bottom lip. Okay, okay, now what do I do. Her palms began to sweat. Suddenly, she was imagining possible scenarios of how this one would go down. One, teacher up front would scold her and quite possible give her a pen, of course not without saying something to her parents or to Tenzin… again. Two, she’d go completely unnoticed and pass her paper blank. Which was really okay, nothing too bad erm. Or, scratch that, she could always ask Bolin to borrow a pen for her and if they were lucky enough, somebody would be willing to—
The girl seated adjacent from her left, held out a pen for her.
All of Korra’s thoughts froze, including her. The southerner was frozen as her homeland.
It was Asami Sato.
Head cheerleader, most popular girl in school, heiress of Future Industries, she had boys drooling over her feet ("Yeah she's so hot and sexy, probably the most gorgeous girl in the whole school," as said by Tu, interviewed by the Republic City High journalism team), smartest dame around the whole block, but well, not exactly the kindest—as the rest of the student body would put it. Not that Korra really cared about any of that or anything, nah, noppidy-nope, nope. And school gossip was just outrageous, after all.
Korra and Sato were only ever friends during the preschool era, and that was nothing but ancient history. A time so long ago, probably considered as a lifetime ago. Which means, and further implies, that they have not spoken to each other in ages.
“Are you going to take it or not?” She said, not looking behind.
Korra didn’t say anything, couldn’t. Nothing really came out. She could only stare dumbly at the cheer leader’s back, at the pen.
Said cheer leader whipped her head to Korra’s direction, glaring daggers at her. Green eyes. Oh man. School gossip outrageous minus the gorgeous part. It wasn’t everyday that Korra had the opportunity to look straight at the heiress’ dazzling eyes, those brilliant, beautiful, mean and sexy looking— “Don’t you have a pen?” Sato said, using a tone nowhere near a nice one. If looks could kill, she’d be six feet under.
“I—uh, how did… how did you know I didn’t have one?”
The girl groaned. “Yeah, like the whole class didn’t hear your dumb conversation.”
Okay, ouch.
“So are you, or are you not taking it?”
Korra reluctantly took the pen. “I… th-thanks.”
Bolin was looking at the unusual exchange. He and Korra shared a look. Korra shrugged. Bolin had both his eyebrows raised.
“No idea.” Korra silently mouthed, before hearing the teacher clear his throat.
“Ah, generosity. Points for that one, Miss Sato.” He said as he wrote something down his clipboard.
Of course. Extra points.
“Thank you, sir.” Sato smiled proudly, no doubt a smile that had been practiced many times before, Korra mused.
Of course, Asami wouldn’t do it out of general kindness for Korra. Hell, she wouldn’t do it for kindness in general. Since when was Asami Sato ever kind to anybody in this bloody hell hole? Asami Sato had it all; the looks, the brains, the money, the fame. Everybody in school knew her, and everybody wanted to be friends with her. Every guy in school probably had a crush on her, and every guy has already, probably, asked her out too. Mako once did, he's fallen a victim of her charms. Korra wouldn't blame him though, she was Asami Sato. And Asami Sato was well, there were a lot of things that could describe Asami Sato.
“She’s the Queen Bee, a star.”
“Asami Sato is flawless.” What she’d wear in school today, girls would try to copy and wear the next. They say her fashion sense is just impeccable, and her make-up is too, quite obviously; she's downright fabulous.
“I hear her hair’s insured for 10,000 yuans.” Raven-hair, glossy, bouncy, silky—nobody really knows what she does to get it that way. But the school journalism team is on the case, bombarding her with questions about her favored beauty and hair products.
“I hear she races Satomobiles for fun and does photoshoots, in Ba Sing Se.” Being the heiress of a multibillion yuan company, of course she has privileges. And who, of all people, would be more fitting to model for and test their own products than, she, herself, Asami Sato.
“She’s rich because her dad like, invented the Satomobile.” Yeah, like not everybody knows that.
“One time, she met General Iroh II in an airship and he told her that she was pretty.”
“I once saw her in the library reading books about engineering, and she told me to keep quiet about it. Oops.”
“She may seem like your typical selfish, back-stabbing, slut-face, hoe bag, but in reality, she is so much more than that.”
“One time, she punched me in the face. It was awesome.”
Korra shuddered. Okay, maybe that was a little too much. Kids these days. The school paper writes about Asami Sato all the time, they even have a little section there dedicated to only her. ‘Glamour girl’, whatever that was. Not that Korra cared. Besides, nobody reads the school paper, right? Yeah, right. The teachers would read it from time to time.
As plenty as the kids in school that would love to be bff’s with Asami Sato, they all knew there was only one girl she would ever really permanently hang out with.
Her name was Opal Beifong.
Opal wasn’t a cheer leader. She was a member of every charity fund raising club in Republic City High, head of the library club, intelligent, and she happens to be really nice. What Korra doesn’t understand was how two of the most opposite people in the whole school, magically became best friends. The school paper rarely writes about Opal Beifong and when they would, it’d be about the charity fund raising events and Quiz Bees she goes to. Nothing fancy, and most certainly nothing as glamorous and spontaneous (yet sometimes crazy obnoxious) as the ones they’d write about Asami Sato.
Korra didn’t exactly know how their friendship worked, and nobody did either. Nobody asked, and it’s not that it really mattered for the most part. Opal was just… so different from Asami. She was generous, sweet, she even defends Korra from time to time, she cares for poor, she doesn’t call people names, she’s always in the library, and she doesn’t wear make-up! Don’t get her wrong, Opal was pretty but her personality just didn’t match that of the Sato girl’s.
Maybe Opal was the yin to Asami’s yang? But whatever, not that Korra should really care.
She examined the newly acquired pen. It was black inked, and inside it was a long, thin shred of paper hand-written:
Asami Sato, and a pink heart right next to it.
Korra stared at it. This is probably the dorkiest thing ever. She rolled it around her fingers. Naming a pen, pfft. Everybody knows you’ll lose it someday. Korra didn’t waste time bothering to fiddle with this one, unlike most pens she’s owned. She’d usually open them up and reassemble them, over and over again, until she’d eventually lose a piece of it. This, this pen, wasn’t hers. She wouldn’t want to damage a pen that had the Asami Sato’s name on it. The Asami Sato’s name on it, with a heart.
How chipper. Korra suddenly wondered if she could gain a couple of yuans if she tried selling it on eBay.
But somewhere deep down, she felt like she’s missed something. Something important, something so significant that should have altered the situation into a more pleasant, more fluffier one? (When she hears the word 'fluffy', Naga is the first thing that comes to mind) No, no, don’t think that. Korra wasn't missing anything. Instead, she should just be thankful that she has a pen. Ignore the gut feeling. Ignore that thought of selling it on eBay, yeah like I’d actually do that.
“At least you’ve got a pen now,” She heard Bolin whisper.
Korra sighed and slumped in her seat. “Yeah, pens, yay.” She mumbled before scribbling down her name, in preparation for the quiz that would follow.
I am so loving the way this writes, though. Real smooth.