Archive of Our Own ^beta

Dear Korra,

I miss you. It's not the same in Republic City without you. How are you feeling?

Things are going well here. I just got a big contract to help redesign the city's infrastructure, so I'll be keeping pretty busy for a while.

Can't wait to see you again,

Asami

Asami signed her name and stared down at her letter, reading it and rereading it several times. Her penmanship was neat and tidy and there were no grammatical or punctuation errors. The letter itself was short and concise, but Asami felt as though that were perfectly appropriate, given Korra’s insistence that she’d be back in just a couple of weeks. Asami waited patiently for the ink to dry before folding the paper—taking care to ensure the creases were even and that the paper would fit well into the envelope. She sealed the envelope, addressed it and bit her lip, staring at where it rested on her desk.

Something about the letter felt… wrong, in spite of her careful attention to detail. 

Perhaps it was the fact that she was censoring herself. ‘Going well’ wasn’t exactly the whole truth. Not that things were bad, exactly. Future Industries had a stroke of good luck; the city’s contract to redesign the roads was going to bring an influx of yuans and hopefully repair the public relations nightmare that her father had left behind. And Asami was looking forward to the challenge of working the spirit vines into her blueprints—mapping the city’s current spirit vines and groves was going to be a huge undertaking, and it was a welcome distraction.

A necessary distraction, really, because Asami had this sort of hollowness deep in her chest that she couldn’t quite parse. If she sat with it for too long, if she didn’t keep her mind and her hands busy, the hollowness sank into something much more insidious. Feelings of abandonment, feelings of helplessness, feelings of resentment and guilt and fear—

No. Asami much preferred the vague feeling of emptiness that was left when her work kept her more negative emotions at bay.

It wasn’t rational for her to feel all those awful feelings. And as much as she’d like to blame everything on her father, she couldn’t. She’d been picking up the pieces of her father’s mess for months and hadn’t felt like this. No, it was only now that she’d struggled with this specific cocktail of emotions. 

She supposed that, if she let herself, she could pinpoint where it was coming from— loneliness. When she’d dealt with the initial aftermath of her father’s actions, she’d had so much love and support in her life from her friends. Even though everything had been tumultuous and confusing, Bolin had kept her grounded, Mako had been a steady presence, and Korra surprised her with kindness and generosity at every turn—in spite of the juvenile rivalry they’d had over their feelings for Mako. 

She’d built these friendships over the last year, but now everyone was scattered to the wind. 

Bolin joining the Earth Army had unexpectedly left her feeling hurt and abandoned. Hadn’t he liked working with her as an assistant? And Mako had been avoiding her, as best as she could tell. She couldn't be surprised by that, all things considered. But she was surprised by how much she missed him.

And… Korra. Korra had politely pushed her away. Asami had offered to go with her to the South Pole (why had she offered to do that? She had a company to run!), and Korra had refused, brushing off Asami’s offer, insisting some time alone would be good for her. Asami didn’t buy it. She’d gotten pretty good at reading Korra, and she could see the micro expressions—the way Korra’s smile of reassurance didn’t reach her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped even as she held her chin high, the way her eyes glistened every so often as if tears might erupt at any moment.

But how could Asami point all that out without overstepping? 

Korra explicitly told Asami no, even though Asami had wanted to come with her. Why?

Was it because Korra was too proud to accept help? Was it because she didn’t want to be a burden, knowing Asami was trying to salvage her company? Was it because she just didn’t want Asami there?

Asami could bear the first two explanations. The last one made Asami’s breath catch painfully. Hadn’t they built a rapport, a friendship, after everything they’d been through together? Surely Korra liked Asami enough to want her there… 

Which made the other two options a different kind of painful. The idea that Korra would refuse company because of her pride or shame gave Asami a powerful urge to just fucking go be with her. To shake some sense into her, let her know that she doesn’t have to hide away and act strong, not for Asami.

The whole thing made Asami feel off balance and she wasn't sure how to right herself.

The letter didn’t do justice to all the thoughts swirling around in Asami’s head, but it was an acceptable start. When Korra wrote her back, maybe Asami would have a better idea of what to say.

Dear Korra,

How are you doing? I hope your recovery is going well. Things have been busy here.

I’ve made lots of progress on the plans for the new city streets. It’s presented a fun challenge (yes, I mean fun for real, not sarcastically) to weave the streets in such a way that the spirit vines don’t cause issues.

I took some inspiration from my mother’s old blueprints—all the buildings she designed have held up to the vines better than others, so she must have been onto something. I’m trying to replicate those results as best I can. I won’t get into the nitty gritty of the physics of it all, but like I said. It’s a fun challenge. It keeps me busy.

Bolin has officially left to join the Earth Army, so letters are trickier to get to and from him because he’s on the move so much, but I know he’d love to hear from you. Mako finally settled into an apartment, if you want to write to him as well. 

Wishing you the best,

Asami

Asami didn’t fret too much about there being no response from Korra yet, after all, it had only been a couple of weeks.

During those two weeks, Asami had kept relatively busy—between all the work that had piled up during her absence and the new contract with the city, she had very little time left to dwell on more depressing thoughts. The office was a welcome reprieve, giving her chances to work with her assistant and have meetings with stakeholders to learn how to best address the needs of the city. Discussing the needs of both citizens, government officials and spirits required meeting after meeting, which meant her calendar was full and most of her time was spent at the office.

And if she spent more time at the office than strictly necessary, she could simply tell herself she was getting ahead of her work—not that she was avoiding going home.

The house felt so huge and empty now. It had always been a large home, Asami was under no illusions that the estate was essentially a mansion. But it had never felt so quiet.

It had always been full of life when Dad was here. He had always hosted get-togethers and took business meetings in his home office. Sure, Dad had worked at his office in Future Industries headquarters, but he had always made a point to spend as much time at home as possible. And it had never been just her and Dad. Their Butler, housekeeper and cook all spent time there, and had filled the empty spaces. It had felt cozy. It had been home.

But now it felt haunted. 

Every small detail echoed with memories of her childhood and her father—laughter as he’d played chase with her down the hall, the pride in his eyes when she’d shown him what she’d learned in self-defence class, the furrow of his brow in concentration as they’d played Pai Sho together…

Now, she felt like she was moving through the house like a ghost.

When Asami had finished penning her letter, she looked around the home office. It felt wrong. Her father was everywhere. It was his decor, his desk, his books with his bookends, his clock, his—

Asami stood abruptly and went to her bedroom, leaning in the doorway and staring at her large bed. The bed felt empty too, which Asami knew was absurd, because she’d slept alone in it for years. But the night her warehouse was raided, she’d brought Mako here. She’d slept curled up in his arms. It had been warm and safe, and she missed that. Every night she laid down in that large, empty bed and wished she could feel the solid weight of another person next to her—not Mako, of course, not anymore. Just… someone.

Asami exhaled a quiet sigh, then went to her closet. She impulsively retrieved a suitcase and started packing. For one crazy, unrealistic moment, she thought maybe she could pack up and go to the South Pole…

No, she couldn’t do that. Korra had explicitly told her not to come.

She continued packing regardless. A few essentials—changes of clothes, toiletries, and a pillow and light blanket. She dragged the suitcase out into the hallway, all the way down to her desk—no, not her desk, Dad’s desk. She organized her papers, neatly stacking them and placing them in her briefcase. The letter to Korra went on top, and she shut the briefcase tightly, using more force than might have been strictly necessary. The brass clasp shimmered as her vision went blurry. Tears. She blinked the tears back, not wanting to give in to the hollow despair that was threatening to cloud up her head.

She dragged everything downstairs and out the front door. She locked up the house and trudged down to the garage, loaded her things in the back of her Satomobile, and drove. It was dark out, the streets more empty than usual. She had to take the long way around to avoid the various spirit groves that had taken residence in the roadways, but before long, she arrived at her destination.

Yasuko Sato Building. Designed by her mother, named by her father, and now used as the head office of Future Industries. Work.

Asami rode the elevator up to the top floor, went into her office, laid out her blueprints and plans and contracts, and worked late into the night. When her eyes grew too heavy to work anymore, she dragged her tired body to the sofa.

She laid down and covered herself with a throw blanket. A few tears escaped, but she squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to stop crying and went to sleep.

Dear Korra,

I want you to know I'm going to keep writing to you. It's been weeks and I haven't heard a word from you, but that's okay. If you want me to stop writing, just let me know. Otherwise, the letters will keep coming.

Construction plans are almost finalized. I'm excited to build something and leave my mark on the city. Not that it's anything like the mark you've left on the city! The spirit vines are a part of the city now, and the more I look around, the more I know it’s a good thing. You really did something amazing when you chose to keep the spirit portals open. The spirit wilds are beautiful. I hope my construction plans will work well with the vines and the spirits that now live in the city.

Take care of yourself, and take as long as you need. But please know that I'm thinking of you.

Sincerely,

Asami

Asami had wanted to wait for Korra to write back, but it had been weeks and there was nothing. What was Asami supposed to do? The only thing she could think of was to write another letter, to remind Korra that she was still thinking of her and encourage her to write back.

Asami agonized over this letter even more than the rest. She didn’t want to sound too pushy or too needy—if Korra didn’t want to write, the last thing Asami wanted was for her to feel guilty about it. She also didn’t want to sound patronizing in her praise of Korra’s actions—even if Korra had done the most incredible things Asami has ever seen and she deserved to be told over and over. And she didn’t want to sound self-centered for talking about herself too much—she hoped it was just enough to entice Korra to reciprocate and share what was going on in her own life.

It felt like a fine line to walk. Asami was well practiced at treading carefully around difficult situations, but the stakes felt so much higher than any other.

She could have been more… honest. But Korra likely didn’t need to hear about how painful it had started to feel to spend time at home, or how sometimes she was filled with rage when she thought too much of her father’s descent into radicalization, or how she was constantly trying to convince herself that her feelings of abandonment were irrational and selfish. 

She wasn’t the center of anyone else’s world, she never had been. Even her father, the one person who was supposed to put her first, had left her alone to clean up his mess. If she couldn't count on her own father, why would she expect her friends to revolve around her? 

It was absurd, egotistical, even, for her to feel any kind of resentment over the fact that everyone else had moved on to other things.

And yet, despite her desperate attempts to cling to logic and convince herself otherwise, feelings were not always rational, were they? 

Maybe Mako had the right idea. Repress, repress, repress.

Asami glanced around her office-turned-living-space. She'd made every effort to keep it tidy, the only evidence that she'd been sleeping here being the pillow and blanket on her sofa. She outsourced laundry and meals to her assistant and she made use of the showers in the company’s fitness center on the ground level (after blowing off steam with a good heavy bag workout). 

She just… couldn’t go home right now.

Conflicted though she was about the contents of her letter, Asami folded it up and stuffed it in an envelope. It was late morning, almost lunchtime, and she could certainly have her assistant take care of mailing the letter, but… Asami needed to get out and walk. The post office was only a few blocks away, so Asami put on her jacket and headed down the elevator, out the door and down the street.

The city streets were a welcome familiarity. It was reassuring to know that, even as Asami’s own world felt like it was slowly crumbling around her piece by piece, the rest of the world soldiered on. The sounds of car horns as everyone made their daily commutes, the ever-present mix of chatter between pedestrians, the owners of shops and stands setting up or enticing customers in with sales pitches and loud announcement of what wares they offered—it was constant and a good reminder for Asami to take stock of her issues and put them into a wider perspective.

The post office wasn’t very busy, with only a single employee behind the desk and one customer paying for stamps and handing over a small stack of letters. She’d recognize that intentionally messy hair and police uniform anywhere, even from behind.

“Mako?” Asami said with a smile.

He turned around, seeming startled. “Oh, Asami, hey.” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s, uh. Good to see you.”

“Same!” She stepped forward and placed her own, pre-stamped envelope on the counter, thanking the postal employee as they carried the letters back to be sorted. “You know, I’ve got plenty of stamps at the office. You’re welcome to them, anytime you need to mail something.”

“Uh, thanks. It’s not a big deal,” Mako said carefully. “I don’t mail stuff that often, just… now. You know. Korra. Bolin.”

Asami tipped her head and tried not to let her breath catch at the mention of Korra’s name. “Have you heard from Korra at all?” She asked eagerly.

Mako’s face fell. “No. Nothing.”

“Me neither.” They stood in silence for a moment. “I did get an… interesting letter from Bolin, though.”

Mako rolled his eyes. “Yeah I don’t know where he suddenly got a huge vocabulary. It’s ridiculous.”

Asami just chuckled. “It sounds like he’s doing well!” she said enthusiastically. “How are you doing these days?”

Mako’s whole body stiffened. “Fine.”

Asami raised an eyebrow. She knew when Mako was lying. “Fine, huh?” She eyed him skeptically.

“It’s fine,” he said in an exasperated voice. “Really. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

“You’ve said fine too many times. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything’s fi—”

“You know what,” she interrupted before he could lie again. “It's almost lunch time. You can tell me all about what’s going on over some food.”

Mako hesitated. “I uh… I don’t think so. I mean, not that I—Well, it’s not you, it's just. I don’t have anything nice to wear, and I have to get back to work in an hour or so, and I’ve been really busy and—”

“I wasn’t asking you on a date,” she said, trying not to let her exasperation bleed through. She couldn't be upset with him for making the presumption, she supposed. She’d always been the one pursuing him, and it wouldn't be the first time she'd ambushed him with a romantic invitation. “No Kwong’s. We’ll go to the Tea Market. You can pay for yourself, if it makes you feel better.”

Mako’s shoulders relaxed. “Sorry. Fuck, I didn't mean to—Yeah. Okay. Tea Market for lunch.”

Asami shook her head at him and led the way out the door.

The Tea Market was as busy as always, with workers from every business downtown shuffling in on their lunch breaks. There were food stalls at every turn and no rhyme or reason to the layout—Asami knew it well enough. Dad used to take her here often as a child. Her favorite stand served the most delicious seared fish filets (though, when she and Mako had been dating, he’d informed her that it was the most overpriced stand in the whole market.)

The Tea Market boasted a wide variety of delicious street food, but an uncomfortable truth she had learned when she’d reach adulthood was that it was also a hub for information brokers. In retrospect, she knew now that, during their father-daughter outings, Dad must have been trading secrets here with like-minded extremists.

They ended up hitting Mako’s favorite skewer stand for turkey-duck kebabs and eating at a small table under the shade of canvas canopy. Mako was focused on his food the moment they sat down, eating neatly but quickly—a practice he had no doubt picked up as a hungry child. He didn’t really savor his food, he just got it into his stomach as quickly as possible. It was different from Bolin, who owl-wolfed down his food as though he were inhaling rather than eating, but Mako could put his food away just as quickly, even though he did so in a more refined manner.

“So, what’s bugging you?” she asked after she took a few bites of her own. The kebabs were savory and greasy, and wouldn’t have been her first pick, but she’d dragged Mako to so many upscale restaurants that she owed it to him to enjoy a meal that he liked and was familiar with.

Mako chewed quickly and carefully without looking up at her. “Uh… My family’s refugee visas were approved.” Mako said after swallowing. He kept his eyes on his food, already half finished while Asami’s had barely gotten started.

“What? That’s great!” she said excitedly. That sounded like good news, so she wasn't sure why Mako looked so glum about the whole thing.

“Yeah, except…” Mako averted his eyes toward the ground at their side. “Getting them housing is sort of a… challenge.”

“What kind of a challenge?” Asami asked, tipping her head to the side. Asami was, truthfully, completely ignorant on the subject of the immigration processes of the United Republic, and even more unaware of what challenges refugees might face in finding homes.

“Refugee housing is limited,” Mako said, balling up his free hand into a fist where it rested on the table. He continued, words spilling out faster and more panicked with each second. “It’s been a logistical nightmare to try and apply for everyone. Grandma is throwing a fit about it, because she doesn’t want everyone to split up, but there’s no other choice, all the refugee housing has minimal space, enough for a family of three or four, tops, and I can’t get everyone approved at once, so I’ve had to submit separate applications for each of my aunts and uncles’ families, and no one knows who grandma is going to stay with and—”

“Whoa, hey!” Asami said, interrupting him as he started to spiral. “Mako, I had no idea you were going through all of that! I thought they were staying in Zaofu?”

“Yeah, but Zaofu has their own influx of refugees, and I hoped bringing them to the city would be easy because having me sign off on the paperwork expedites the process—you know, since I’m a citizen, they're approving those visas quicker to prioritize reuniting families. And, I mean…” He finally made eye contact with her. “I want them here. I’ve lived my whole life with them on the other side of the world, no way to contact them. I want them here so I can get to know them, you know? I’m just so stressed out by the entire process.”

Asami felt an idea begin to form. She leaned forward, shifting into problem-solving mode. “How does it work if they already have somewhere to stay?”

“They won’t all fit in my apartment, Asami,” he said, looking at her sardonically, like she was being ridiculous. 

She rolled her eyes. “How would it work, theoretically?”

“They would just come and move in. Like I said, their visas were approved, they can come to the city any time. But that doesn’t do any good if they have nowhere to live when they get here.”

She sat back, allowing herself a few moments to piece her idea together in her mind. She had the space, and she’d been avoiding it because it was so fucking lonely there.

Why not open her home to them?

“They can stay at my estate!” she said, excitement bleeding into her voice. Yes, this would work, it was perfect, win-win—

Mako, however, looked very uncomfortable at the prospect. “I couldn’t ask you to take in my family in, that’s too much—”

“No, it’s not. I promise.” she said, smiling. “Please, Mako, I…” She felt her heart lurch. “It’s so empty.”

Mako’s brows drew up in concern. “What’s empty?”

“The house… It’s… just me. I don’t have any house staff anymore, not since the arrest. I just…” Asami averted her eyes as tears suddenly threatened to well up at the reminder of Dad. “I’ve been sleeping in my office. The house just feels too big and empty.”

Mako’s eyes softened. “You didn’t tell me that you were having a hard time…”

“And you didn’t tell me you were either,” she pointed out. “Let’s help each other. That’s what friends do.”

Mako mulled over her offer for a moment. “I don't want to… complicate things between us,” he said, his voice small and anxious.

“I know.” She nodded and tempered her enthusiasm and focused on putting him at ease. “Things have been complicated between us for a long time. But that has nothing to do with this. We’re friends. I'd be offering just the same if it were Bolin telling me all this, and you know things have never been complicated between me and him.”

“I… don’t know what to say.” Mako blinked at her, and it might have been a trick of the light, but she thought she saw his eyes glisten. 

“Let me help you,” she said. She wanted to reach out and put her hand over his, but she didn’t. She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. “I like your family. I have the space. It doesn’t make sense to have them shacked up all over the city in small apartments—apartments other refugees could be using—when I’ve got an empty house big enough for all of them.”

Mako was silent for a moment, biting his lip as he considered all the possible outcomes of such an arrangement between them.

“Are… are you sure?” he asked slowly. “I know they can be a lot, but I can make sure they don’t take advantage and I’ll help everyone get jobs and if you want it to be formal and do a lease and have them pay rent I’ll understand and I’ll make sure to take care of it—”

“No rent,” Asami interrupted him firmly. “I’ll pitch in for necessities, groceries and whatnot, while they get their bearings.”

“Asami…” he looked as though he might push back and refuse her help. Instead, he heaved in a deep breath and said, “Okay. Yes. Thank you.” 

He closed his eyes and released all the tension he’d been holding in his body. Asami felt a weight lift from her shoulders as well.

“That’s what friends are for,” she said as she smiled at him. Her heart felt elated at the thought of Mako’s huge family filling in all the empty space of her home. 

“Besides,” she added casually, “if they get to be too much, I’ll just sleep in my office again. So nothing will have changed.”

“You sound like me.” Mako said, chuckling as he relaxed more and more in her presence.

“I don’t sleep under my desk,” she said teasingly. “I have a sofa. It’s quite comfortable.”

“Right,” he said sarcastically. “Very upper class of you. Brag about it, why don’t you.”

Asami laughed, really laughed, for the first time in weeks.

Dear Korra.

I hope everything is okay. I know you must be really focused on getting better.

There’s been a big change over the last couple of weeks. Mako’s family arrived in Republic City. I decided to invite the whole family to stay at my estate. It’s been so empty here, and I’ve been enjoying having some company. It’s nice seeing Yin again. 

Sometimes I still laugh when I think about meeting her the first time—you remember, right? “What lovely young women. Mako, why aren't you dating any nice girls like them?” Mako’s face was priceless. 

You’ll be pleased to know he’s still sufficiently awkward around me. I’m glad everything worked out the way it did, though. He and I are better as friends.

I’m glad you and I are friends after everything, too. Take care of yourself, hope to hear from you, whenever you’re ready.

Your friend,

Asami

Asami stared at the page in front of her. Something about it was… wrong. She wasn’t sure what. She read and reread her words over and over, trying to decide if she needed to adjust the phrasing. 

This letter felt more honest. Since Mako’s family had moved in, Asami's mood had improved markedly, and her letter reflected that. So this letter wasn't wrong the way the others were.

She wasn’t sure what was making her feel jittery about this particular letter. Even though she couldn’t find anything wrong with it objectively, she felt this nagging urge to rewrite it…

 A gentle knock at the door interrupted her internal debate.

“Come in!” Asami said as she sealed the envelope. She was sitting in the office of her home— Dad’s old office. It was too much to sit where he once sat, using the same furniture. So she had rearranged the office and gotten a new, more modern desk. It suited her needs better and it didn't have the unpleasant side effects of eliciting the pain she felt when she thought of Dad for too long.

The door opened slowly and there stood Yin with a tray of food. 

“Oh, Yin, you have to stop that!” Asami said, trying not to scold. “I can get my own food, you don’t need to serve me. I want you to make yourself at home here!”

“Well, if I’m to make myself at home, maybe you shouldn’t try to boss me around!” Yin said with her chin high but a twinkle in her eye. 

Yin insisted on treating Asami as if she were a grandchild—bringing her food, reminding her to get some sleep, scolding her if she underdressed for the weather. Asami would be lying to herself if she said she hated it. Both sets of her own grandparents had passed away before she was born, and both her parents had been only children. Having a grandmother figure to fill that empty space was enticingly comforting.

“Alright, alright,” Asami conceded as Yin carried the tray to her desk. “You really don't need to, but thank you.”

“I do need to,” Yin said stubbornly. “You’re too caught up in your work. You forget to eat.”

Asami couldn’t argue with that. She’d missed a meal or two when she was particularly focused on a blueprint or plan. 

“I’m not working right now, I was just writing a letter.” Asami said.

“Oh? To The Avatar?” Yin asked politely. “My Mako said she is recovering from injuries. What a shame she was injured so badly, and by the same criminal who ended our Beloved Earth Queen— may she rest in peace.” She bowed in a formal Earth Kingdom sign of respect for the dead. “How is Avatar Korra doing?”

Asami’s eyes went downcast. “I, uh. I’m not sure. I haven't heard from her since she left.” Asami stared down at the letter on the desk, and the distress threatened to claw up through her throat. 

Yin reached out over the tray of food and placed a hand on top of Asami's. Asami blinked quickly, beating back the embarrassing tears she could feel trying to escape. Yin's hand was warm, her skin was calloused and wrinkled, but her grip was firm and steady. The feeling of it, anchoring her and holding steadfast as her emotions threatened to careen out of control—it reminded her of Mako.

“She’s quite lucky to have such a lovely person reaching out to her. I’m sure she treasures each letter, even if she isn't able to send one back.”

Yin's kind voice brought Asami back from the brink of despair, and she felt a small smile tug at the corners of her lips. “Thank you, Yin.” 

Dear Korra,

I wanted to reach out again to check in on you. How is everything going? I still miss you, but I hope you aren't pushing yourself too hard. Take as much time as you need. 

Things are going well over here. Mako and Bolin's family living here has been exactly what I needed. I didn't tell you this in my last letter, but before they moved in, I was sleeping in my office. (Not under my desk, mind you, I have a very comfortable sofa.) It was just hard to be at home. Everything reminded me of my father and it hurt too much.

But with this big family here, it's too busy and noisy for me to wallow. Yin is always doting on me no matter how much I tell her not to, Tu is always showing off, Chow is always making sure everyone pulls their weight with chores, and everyone gives me space where I need it.

All in all, things are well here. Please take your time getting well. I hope to hear from you soon.

Sincerely,

Asami

Mako often stopped by to visit his family. Asami tried to stay respectful of his time with them, keeping to her office and out of the way. Likewise, he seemed to give her space as well. Either that or he was avoiding her. She tried not to dwell on that possibility. Asami knew he wasn't being unkind, he was just doing what he did best—stifling all his pesky emotions. 

She was glad on the occasions when he sought her out, though. 

“Hey…” He said awkwardly as he poked his head in the door to her office. “Sorry, I should have knocked, you're busy—”

“No, it’s okay, nothing I can't take a break from,” she said, smiling. She turned her letter to Korra face down so Mako wouldn’t see what she was doing—though she wasn’t exactly sure why her impulse was to hide her letter from him. “Everything okay? How’s your family adjusting?”

“Great,” Mako said, stepping all the way in her office and closing the door. “Some of them are adjusting a little too well. Tu’s acting like he’s lived in a mansion his whole life.” Mako rolled his eyes and Asami laughed.

“Well, I’m glad. Your grandma keeps bringing me food even though I tell her not to. She’s not doing that because she feels like she has to work to live here, right?”

“No, that’s just how she is. She’s always worried about how much everyone is eating.” Mako shrugged as if that were completely normal. And perhaps it was, for Mako. Asami didn't care to picture Mako as a child, looking after his brother on his own, but Asami imagined he was quite used to worrying that his loved ones were eating enough.

Mako stood in the center of the room, crossing his arms and shifting his weight slightly. The silence between them had a touch of awkwardness, but it could have been worse. At least he hadn't saluted her. Yet.

“Okay, well. I’m uh. Heading out,” he said after a moment. “I’m, uh. Maybe not going to be able to visit quite as often the next couple of weeks, so you might not see me.” His voice had layers and layers of distress hidden beneath his steely demeanor. She raised an eyebrow in concern.

“Are you okay?” Asami asked, tipping her head. “You can talk to me, you know. Friends, remember?

“It's nothing,” he said, then paused as if to reconsider his answer. “I mean. It’s just… I got reassigned temporarily.”

Asami’s brows flew up in surprise. “What? Is everything okay? Does Lin have a problem with your job performance or something?”

“No, nothing like that. I’m getting pulled on the security rotation for the Earth Prince.”

“Oh, really?” Asami was surprised. “You don’t have any experience with that, don’t they have… I don’t know, specialists for that?”

“Yeah, but…” Mako pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not really sure why the president or the prince or whoever wants me on close protection duty. I mean, Lin made it sound like the President asked for me by name.   I’ve got my briefing tomorrow and then I'm on duty the next day. It’s fine though. My rotation is just a couple of weeks, then I’m back to detective work.”

“Hmm.” Asami's lips pursed in confusion. “It’s probably good, right? That's a high profile assignment.”

“Sure. Not why I joined the force, but ‘bodyguard’ on my resume can't hurt, I guess? Anyway, I just… Thanks again. For. You know. Putting up with my family.”

“I'm glad to have them,” Asami said, and she meant it. All the noise and hustle-bustle and togetherness was warm and cozy. A welcome change from the cold desolation she’d been living in before.

Mako’s goodbye was just as awkward as ever as he turned on his heel and stiffly marched out of her office. The door closed behind him and Asami smiled wistfully. What a relief that she and Mako had mostly moved past their sordid history. 

She picked up the letter on her desk, flipping it back over to reread the whole thing. It was a little vulnerable, the way she had confessed in the letter that she had been having a hard time before Mako’s family moved in. She didn’t want to sound like she was ungrateful. Surely Korra was having a much harder time than Asami, and she didn’t want it to come across as though she were selfishly complaining about her own petty problems. But she’d been censoring herself in these letters quite a bit, and was starting to wonder if that was why Korra wasn’t responding—injecting too much optimism and positivity might just make Korra feel worse.

In fact, Asami was starting to wonder if Korra wasn’t sending any letters as a polite way of telling Asami to stop writing.

Though, if she thought about it for more than two seconds, that was absurd. Korra didn’t do passive aggressive, non-confrontational fake politeness.

Besides, Yin’s words had nestled their way into Asami’s thoughts. The idea that Korra might like the letters, even treasure them, brought a warmth to Asami’s chest that spread all the way up to her cheeks.

Something told Asami to keep going. Keep writing. Maybe Korra was reading them. Maybe they were helping her. Or maybe not, but without some communication to stop, Asami decided she would keep writing.

And letter after letter, that's what she did.

Dear Korra,

I know I'm repeating myself, but I hope you're recovering well. Take your time, take care of yourself, but please know I'm thinking of you every day.

Mako hasn't been around much. I don't know if he wrote to you, but he got reassigned to the security detail for the Earth Prince. It was just supposed to be a two week rotation, but it's been several weeks and Yin tells me his reassignment is semi-permanent now. I guess he’s a really good bodyguard.

Bolin is doing well too. He’s in Ba Sing Se, apparently there's a lot to clean up. The riots were bad, and there was a lot of infrastructure damage from the walls being melted down. But Bolin is optimistic as always. I think he’s really proud to be making a difference.

As for me, I'm still keeping busy. Construction starts on the first section of new roads soon. I'm so nervous, I hope they hold up well to the spirit vines while still meeting the needs of travel in the city.

I miss you. I don't know if you are reading my letters but I hope you know that we care about you. 

Sincerely,

Asami 

Dear Korra,

Today, I was out driving and assessing more places that could use improved streets. It took me out to the Dragon Flats, where Mako, Bolin, and I got arrested. That was such a difficult time for me, so many things in my life felt like they were falling apart—my father’s arrest, having to leave my home since it was a crime scene, Mako starting to pull away, and then going to jail , which I had never in a million years imagined would happen to me.

I know that you tried to get us out, and that you were taken by Taarlok because of it. You’re always doing things like that; putting yourself at risk to help others. I hope you know how much it means to everyone you’ve ever helped that way.

I’m trying to help, too. I can never make as big of an impact on the world as you have, but I can make a difference in my own way, I think. My company is growing, and the incoming refugees from the Earth Kingdom will need work, so I’m going to ensure a portion of the new jobs go toward refugees.

It’s nothing like reviving an entire culture from the brink of extinction, but it will hopefully make a difference in someone’s life.

I really hope you’re doing well. I miss you.

Sincerely, 

Asami

Dear Korra,

I visited Air Temple Island today. I asked about you, and I could tell Tenzin was torn on how much to tell me. All he said was that your recovery is going slow, but steady. He refused to give me more details than that.

I know you. A slow recovery is probably hard for you. 

I'm sorry your recovery is taking so long. I can only imagine what you're going through. If you want company, my offer to come to the South pole still stands. I've been working so much, I could use a vacation! No pressure, I'm just saying it wouldn't be an imposition.

Construction is underway. I’ll admit I'm nervous. I know my plans are solid but I'm worried I didn't account for something. But I will say I've really enjoyed the urban planning aspect of it all. 

I was thinking the other day about when we raced together on the test track. I remember how nervous I was; I wanted to impress the Avatar, you know? I didn't want you to think I was too stuck up to get my hands dirty or something. I tried to play it cool after, but it really meant a lot that you were willing to admit you had me pegged wrong.

If you ever want to go for another test ride, I'd be glad to take you around the track again. Even if your recovery is slow, my cars are fast.

Sincerely, 

Asami

Dear Korra,

I want to give my usual spiel about how I hope you're recovering well, take your time, take care of yourself, let me know if you need anything, and so on. But it's getting a little repetitive, isn't it?

I'm sorry. I’m sorry your recovery has been going on for months and months. I'm sorry you're going through this, I'm sorry things are hard for you, I'm sorry I can't make anything better.

If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.

Sincerely.

Asami

Dear Korra

I got a letter from my father today. I haven't read it. I thought about destroying it, but I couldn't bring myself to do that either. It's just sitting in my drawer.

When I think about my father, about how his company—MY company—funded the equalists, the first thing I think about is your face when you stepped out of Katara's healing hut. Your bending means so much to you, and you had lost it, and I could see the devastation on your face. 

I never told you this, but I felt like it was my fault, like if I'd seen what my father had become sooner, maybe I could have done something to stop the Equalists from going as far as they got. Logically, I know it’s not my fault, but I could see how you were hurting, and I was hurting too.

And when I think of how hard it was for you, to lose your bending, I think about how hard it must be for you now. I don't know if you've made any progress, I don't know if you can walk again, or bend, or fight, but I know that no matter where you are in your recovery, it must be so hard for you to feel like you've lost something.

You've been through so much. I'm always here if you need me.

Sincerely, 

Asami

Dear Korra,

The construction of the new streets is nearly complete. The roads are holding up, the spirits aren't unhappy with their placement, and the vines seem to be happy to coexist with them.

I've gotten three more letters from my father. I haven't opened any of them. They're all stacked in the bottom drawer of my desk. I'm still so angry with him, but I don't know what to do with that anger. I was blowing off steam in my gym the other day, and I think I scared Mako’s cousin because I knocked the head clean off of a training dummy. I was so in the zone, I didn't hold back, and I landed a hit right at the neck. It went flying across the room, and when I looked up, Tu was standing there with a drink in his hand, slurping through a straw, and I swear he flinched and ran off. I must have looked feral or something.

I haven't seen Mako in forever. It's so weird, his family is here, and he visits when he has time off from his security gig, but I think he's avoiding me. Yin tells me how he’s doing, though. She speaks very highly of his job working for the Earth Prince. Not surprising, the woman is a loyal monarchist.

Bolin hasn't written to me in a while, but I can get updates from the news, at least.

I've been thinking about you a lot. I hope you’re being kind to yourself and taking the time you need to recover.

I miss you.

Asami

Dear Korra

I currently have ten unopened letters from my father in my drawer, and a horrifying thought occurred to me. Are all my letters to you tucked away somewhere? Unopened? Is it too painful for you to read them?

If so, I guess you'll never see this. If not, well. I wouldn't mind a letter back. 

I've tried not to pressure you to write me back. I wanted you to take your time, recover at your own pace, and reach out when you're ready. But the truth is, I want to hear from you. I want to know you're okay. I want you to write me back, please.

I want to know if things are hard for you. I want you to know I can carry that. I want you to know I can hear it and it won't be a burden.

So here I am. Pressuring you. Please write me back. Even if it's just to tell me you don't want to hear from me any more. If I don't hear back from you, I'll keep writing until I do.

Sincerely,

Asami

Asami had sent so many letters, she lost count. Once every other week, or so, she’d pick up a fresh piece of stationary, jot down some platitudes about how she hoped Korra was feeling better, update Korra about the going-ons in her life, and sign it.

She had mixed feelings about it.

On the one hand, it was emotionally taxing. She was taking time and energy to pour out her thoughts and feelings, and getting nothing in return.

On the other hand, it was cathartic, in a way, to put those thoughts to paper. She supposed some people wrote in journals or diaries, but there was something about the ritual of placing those letters in the envelope, sealing and stamping it, and sending it to a destination. She liked the idea that Korra might read her thoughts and feelings. She liked feeling like she could do something for Korra, even if it was from a different continent.

The problem, however, was that Asami didn’t actually know if her letters were doing anything. She didn’t know if Korra liked them. She didn’t know if Korra felt better reading them. She didn’t even know if Korra was reading them at all.

So yes, she had resorted to begging.

Part of her felt like she should rip up this particular letter. It had been nearly two years, two years of nothing. Why on earth would she bother begging now? Just because she was feeling upset over her father’s letters?

What right did she have to project all of that onto Korra?

But… What was the worst that could happen? Korra probably wouldn’t read it, if she hadn’t been reading the other letters. In which case, nothing would change. Or, Korra might read it and ignore Asami’s pitiful pleading. In which case, Asami still wouldn’t get a letter back, so nothing would change. Except that Korra might behave awkwardly the next time Asami saw her again.

If Asami ever saw her again. She’d spent more time away from Korra than she had spent with her. Maybe this was how things fizzled out, how friendships ended. One day, she would look up, and realize it had been too long to ever go back to the way things were.

If that was the case, she might as well send the letter.

Dear Asami, 

I'm sorry I haven't written to you sooner, but every time I've tried, I never know what to say. The past two years have been the hardest of my life. 

Even though I can get around fine now, I still can't go into the Avatar State. I keep having visions of Zaheer and what happened that day. Katara thinks a lot of this is in my head, so I've been meditating a lot, but sometimes I worry I'll never fully recover. 

Please don't tell Mako and Bolin I wrote to you and not them. I don't want to hurt their feelings, but it's easier to tell you about this stuff. I don't think they'd understand.

Thank you for every letter. I read each one. They've gotten me through some hard times during this recovery. Everyone else stopped writing after the first couple of months, but not you.

Thank you,

Korra

Asami could scarcely believe what she was looking at.

Two years, two whole years of sending who knows how many letters. And finally, Asami held in her hand, a letter from Korra. 

She sat at her desk in her home office, raking her eyes over the letter, memorizing every word, every pen stroke. 

Korra’s handwriting was distinct and easily recognizable. Living in a compound under the care and instruction of the White Lotus, Korra would have had plenty of formal instruction over the years, and her penmanship was clear, even, and confident. Yet there was a rebellious flare to it as well, with sharp, bold lines and large, sweeping curves. Asami could easily picture a small Korra frustrating her tutors as she stubbornly used too much force when putting pen to paper.

The smile that had plastered itself across Asami’s face fell as she continued to reread the letter. The pain and challenge Korra had gone through was just as awful as Asami had imagined. Not only had she struggled physically, but mentally and emotionally as well?

And not being able to go into the Avatar State was no doubt causing Korra intense distress. Korra usually had a magnificent control over the Avatar State.

Asami teetered between a dizzy giddiness that Korra had written to her, and a crushing grief that Korra had struggled for so long.

 Asami could scarcely collect her thoughts as she took out a piece of paper and began penning another letter.

Dear Korra,

The way my heart stopped when I saw a letter from the South Pole! You have no idea how quickly I opened the envelope.

Hearing that you’re getting around fine is such a relief. Don't misunderstand me, if you still needed help getting around I would be happy to push you around in a wheelchair any time you'd be willing to visit. But I know how hard it must have been, and I'm so happy you're getting better.

I'm rambling. Normally my letters are more thought out than this. 

I'm so sorry that you haven't been able to go into the Avatar state. I wish I could say you'll push through it and you'll definitely recover, but I don't know anything about the Avatar state and what’s blocking you. So I'll say this: if anyone can recover from this, it's you. You're the strongest person I've ever met. Not physically (well, yes, physically but that's not what I mean) but emotionally. 

And if you don't recover all the way, it's okay. It doesn't change that you're the strongest person I know.

I won't say anything to Mako or Bolin. I barely see them anymore. Though I did catch Mako yesterday, sneaking out after playing Pai Sho with Yin. He was acting weird. I'm not sure if he likes his job as a bodyguard right now. Yin makes it sound like the highest honor in the land. Mako just made some small talk about the weather and sidestepped my question about how work is going.

But don't worry, I won't tell anyone you wrote to me.

I'm glad you read my letters. It’s okay that it took you a while to write back, but I'm so glad you did. I hope to hear from you again soon.

Sincerely, 

Asami

Dear Asami

Thanks for understanding. Seriously. I've been hard on myself for not writing to anyone. I've sort of felt like I was being selfish, but I just couldn't find the words. But I'm glad you pushed me to reply. It felt good to put some of that to paper.

I'm working on building my strength back up. I can bend, but it’s difficult. I'm still struggling with my stances and reconnecting to my chi. I'm not gonna lie. It sucks. Back before I left the compound to move to Republic City, one of my sifus told me I had always excelled at the physical aspect of bending, but never grasped the spiritual part. 

What do I do when I'm bad at both?

I try to tell myself I'll get there, but I hate how long it's taking.

But… I appreciate you saying what you said. About how if I don't recover all the way, that it's okay. I don't know if I believe it, but it's nice to hear all the same.

I’m glad you have company in your home, by the way. The thought of you all alone in that huge house is awful. I'm happy Grandma Yin is doting on you. I wonder what she’d think of me now. I’m not quite as muscular as I used to be. Atrophy, Katara calls it. It takes a long time to build back muscles after not using them for a while. 

When I look in the mirror, I don't look like myself. I wonder if I ever will.

I know I'm being a downer, sorry about that. I really appreciate all the updates in your letters. They've helped me keep my mind off things.

I promise I'll write you back again. 

Korra

Dear Korra,

Thank you for writing back again. You have no idea how much it means to me.

You don't have to apologize about a thing. I told you I can handle it, and I mean it. 

Thank you for trusting me with it all.

There's nothing selfish about taking the time you need. I just worry about you, and I want to hear how you're doing.

I wish I could offer some advice on building your strength back up. I know you’ll get there. You’ve got a strong will.

If you’d like more updates to keep your mind off of things, I’m happy to oblige. The new streets are holding up wonderfully. No more dead-ends from a huge spirit root blocking the roads. It’s a little less straightforward—lots of twists and curves where the road used to be grids—but it’s working. People are getting used to it all. Sometimes I just drive around town to make sure I haven’t made a huge error. 

You still need to learn how to drive, you know. When you come back to Republic City, I hope you’ll let me teach you some more. Then you can drive on the new roads and tell me what you think!

Looking forward to hearing from you again,

Asami

Dear Asami,

Listen, if you want to put me behind a wheel again, it’s your funeral. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to drive properly! 

And I’m sure all the roads are perfect. I really appreciate you working with the spirit vines instead of against them. I never thought the vines would overtake the city the way that they did, but it’s a relief that they aren’t interfering with people’s daily commutes now that you’ve reworked everything.

I'm getting my strength back, slowly but surely. I think the worst of the recovery is behind me. Now I just have to get used to everything again—bending, sparring, exercising. I try not to skip any days of my workouts, because if I do, I feel like I fall behind too far again. Earth Bending has been the trickiest for me, since it's much more physical than the other bending stances. Digging my feet into the earth. It used to come so naturally, but now I feel like I’m fighting the earth itself just to reconnect to it.

Thanks for your confidence, though. And listen, we don’t have to tiptoe around it. I know when people call me ‘strong willed’ they actually mean ‘stubborn’. So yeah, I hope I’m stubborn enough to build my strength back up, too.

I’m trying, anyway.

Signed,

Korra

Dear Korra,

I do want to put you behind the wheel again. I know we can get you driving eventually. But if you’re really nervous, we can stick to the test track so we don’t have to deal with traffic! 

There’s nothing wrong with being stubborn. I’ve always admired how you don’t give up.

I appreciate your confidence in my road designs. I guess we both need to be more confident in ourselves, right?

More exciting news over here, the president was happy enough with the road designs, that he asked me to work up some blueprints for a new train station. As Kuvira has been improving the rail system in the Earth Kingdom, Republic City needs an updated central terminal. It’s going to be another fun challenge, and I’m looking forward to it!

Keep me updated on your progress with bending! I’m sure it’s frustrating to have to work so hard at something that used to come naturally, but I’m confident that you’re strong willed enough (Okay, stubborn enough!) to push through it. 

Please write back,

Asami

Dear Asami,

If we go on the race track again, I’d much rather you drive. It was exhilarating, the first time you took me driving there.

The train station sounds like an amazing opportunity! You’re going to do amazing. I can’t wait to see it one day.

As for my progress… It’s a little better. Day by day. I’m feeling more optimistic. Things are coming more naturally to me each day. It’s just frustrating how hard I have to work for it all. But I’ll get it eventually. I’m stubborn, right?

Earthbending is still giving me the most trouble, but I’m also having trouble with fire. It’s hard to explain what bending feels like to someone who isn’t a bender, but with fire, there’s always this energy simmering under the surface in my core. It used to be that I could just ignite it, bring fire to life in my hands, and blast it or throw it or whatever I wanted. Now it feels like I’m trying to make a fire out of flint and steel or something. I try and try and try, and when I finally ignite it, it’s just a little spark and it’s too easy to snuff out. 

Water is coming a little more easily, but I don’t know if it’s because it was my first element, or if I’ve spent so much time with Katara in the healing hut, watching her bend, that I’ve just had more opportunity to practice.

Airbending has never been my forte, but it’s coming a bit easier. Air is everywhere, after all. And it’s the most versatile of the elements. It’s more forgiving, I guess. 

Fighting in general is tricky, too. I used to be able to kick ass even without using my bending. Now I get winded from the most basic routine self defense exercises. Just have to keep going, I guess.

Anyway, I’m getting a little better each day. Trying to be hopeful that one day, I’ll feel like I used to.

Thanks for listening,

Korra

Letter after letter, signature after signature, Asami felt like things were barreling toward something. It was an honor, knowing Korra was writing to her and only her. Not because she didn’t want Korra to talk to anyone else, spirits no. But because Korra hadn’t been talking to anyone, and when she chose to reach out and open up, it was to Asami.

Asami hoarded every letter like some kind of frenzied fox-squirrel. She read and reread every word like it was sustenance. And the more she wrote, the more she understood what was happening to her. 

Why had she always felt like she was censoring herself in every letter? Why did her letters feel wrong sometimes? Why had she been obsessing over them? Why was she clinging to every word Korra wrote like a woman lost at sea clinging to flotsam?

She knew, she’d known for a while, and part of her didn’t want to name it. She understood why Mako liked to bottle up his feelings and avoid acknowledging them, but she was determined not to fall into that trap.

Feelings.

She allowed the word to enter her mind. She did her best to experience the word and all its meanings with neutrality. She wasn’t going to deny that she was developing feelings, but she also wasn’t going to give those feelings full reign of her life or her heart. 

She knew better than to delude herself. Korra most certainly would never return those feelings. Asami had known since she was young that she liked women just the same as men. But Korra had never given any indication that she would be interested in a woman. And certainly not that she’d be interested in Asami.

Asami had to be cautious. She’d let her feelings develop unrequited before, and it had left her feeling heartbroken and lonely. And that had just been Mako; she hadn’t even been in love with him.

Not like how she was in love with Korra—

Asami took a deep breath in, let it out slowly, sat with her feelings, really felt them, and penned her next letter.

Dear Korra,

I’m so glad you’re doing better. And you have no idea how much it means to me that you’ve shared all this with me. 

I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about our letters, about everything you’ve told me about your recovery. And I keep thinking that these letters aren’t enough.

The truth is, I want to see you. When I offered to come to the South Pole with you, two and a half years ago (Has it really been that long?) I meant it, I wanted to go with you, to keep you company. To be with you.

And I’ve slowly started realizing why.

I love you

Asami stared at the words on the paper, black on creamy white. 

The words had flowed into the paper like she'd been possessed. Writing it out had given it life in a way she hadn’t intended. Obviously she couldn't send this letter. She picked it up, turning it over in her shaking hand, wondering what to do. Hide it away somewhere? Do as she said she would and give it to Korra in person? Burn the damn thing in the fireplace?

Her heart pounded as she placed the paper back on the desk. She picked up the pen and gripped it tightly. She scribbled hard lines over the last words she’d written, until it wasn’t so much crossed out as it was blacked out.

Asami placed the letter to the side and pulled out a fresh page of stationary. She furrowed her brow and wrote something she could actually send to Korra.

Dear Korra,

I can imagine how frustrating all of that must be for you. But I know you, you’ll get there. I believe in you. 

Listen, if you ever want a sparring partner, I would still be happy to come down and visit. I can work on train station blueprints anywhere! A trip to the south pole could be fun.

Just say the word, and I’m there.

Can’t wait to see you again,

Asami.

Dear Asami,

I’m not really sure how to say this. I’m not sure what will make it make sense. I’m not sure how I can say it without sounding cruel or ungrateful.

You’ve told me several times, in your earlier letters, that if I wanted you to stop writing, I could tell you and you’d stop.

I’m asking you not to write.

Not forever. Just for now. I want to explain why, and I promise I will. It’s not because I don’t like to hear from you, because I do. I meant it, your letters got me through tough times. It’s not because you said or did something wrong, because you didn’t, every letter and every word have been perfect. 

It’s me. I just need some time to focus on recovering. To get back to how I was before. I need space.

I hope I’m better the next time I see you. 

Thank you for everything.

Korra

Asami sat at her desk, staring at the letter, reading it over and over. 

What had she done wrong? She’d tried so hard not to scare Korra off, but clearly her offer to come to the South Pole to spar was too much. 

Asami thought she might cry, but she swallowed it down. She opened her desk drawer, pulling out all the other letters from Korra. She’d saved each one, keeping them within arm’s reach so she could reread them any time. But she didn’t want to read any of them now. 

Maybe ever. 

She took the stack and carried them into her room. She found an old shoebox in her closet and placed all the letters inside. She tucked them in neatly, so they were in a uniform stack, and closed the lid tightly. She placed the box on a shelf up and ran her fingers carefully over the edges. 

Asami blinked back tears and closed the door, hoping that having the letters out of sight might mean they were out of mind.

Dear Korra 

I know you said not to write. And I'm never going to send this letter, so I think I'm still respecting your wishes.

Tenzin said you're coming in for the Earth Prince's coronation. So I'll see you in a couple weeks. Maybe I'll give you this letter in person then.

But I've been thinking a lot since you told me not to write. I know you used the old ‘It’s not you, it's me” line and as much as I'd like to believe you, I still feel like I must have done something wrong.

I think I know what I did wrong. I've never told you. All my letters felt ‘off’, like I didn't say what I really wanted to say. They were censored because I didn't want to tell you the whole truth. About why I kept writing to you, about why your letters back meant the world to me.

I love you.

I wonder if I’d told you, if you wouldn’t have pushed me away like that.

Or maybe you’d push me away harder.

It doesn’t matter now, I guess. I won’t be sending you this letter. Maybe I can give it to you, someday. If I can be brave enough.

Love, 

Asami

Dear Korra,

I feel sick. I don’t know where you are. I don’t if you’re okay. Your father arrived just a few hours ago, expecting you to already be in the city. He said you’d written him letters.

I genuinely don’t know what I’m most upset about. That you’ve disappeared and no one knows where you are? That you wrote to your father but not to me? That you didn’t bother to tell me what you were doing or where you were going? The fact that you didn’t trust me to tell me what’s going on with you?

Everyone feels confident you’re alive, because your father just got a letter a couple of weeks ago. 

You said you needed time to recover. You said you needed space. I did what you asked even though it hurt.

I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. Good thing I’ll never send this. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t know where to mail it.

Since I can’t send this, I might as well say it again.

I love you. 

I’m terrified I’ll never see you again. I should have said it before. Maybe then you’d come back to me. Even if it was to tell me I’m delusional for thinking you might feel the same, or if it was to let me down nicely; that would be better than not knowing where you are, not knowing if you’re alive, not knowing if I’ll ever see you again.

Spirits, I hope I’ll see you again.

Love,

Asami

She crumpled that one up and threw it away.

She dug it out of the wastebasket later that night. She smoothed it out, folded it up, and placed it in the box with Korra’s letters—and shoved the whole damn box to the back of her closet.

Asami couldn’t crumple up into a heap of sorrow. She couldn’t hide away and pretend like the rest of the world didn’t exist. She had a company to run, for goodness sake. She wanted to go curl up in bed and have a good cry, but she wasn’t going to. She was going to get dressed, put on some makeup, pin back her hair, and go back to work.

Unfortunately, she checked her mail first. Checking her mail had become a gut wrenching ritual. Each time she opened her mailbox and thumbed through various business correspondence, she knew what she was hoping for—a letter from Korra.

There was a letter, alright. But it wasn’t from Korra.

Another letter from her father.

Normally, she would calmly place the letter in the bottom drawer of her desk, the one that was out of sight. But something about seeing the letter today—addressed so neatly in her father’s crisp, professional handwriting—made her blood boil.

She trudged inside, yanked open the drawer, and pulled her father's other letters out. She stacked them up haphazardly and tied them together, tucking them under her arm before heading out the door.

She didn’t want these stupid letters anymore. Return to sender.

She was going to see her father, look him in the eye, and tell him to leave her the fuck alone, once and for all. 

It didn’t exactly go the way she planned.

Looking her father in the eye did little to empower her. Telling him not to contact her should have been satisfying, but instead it just left a lump in her throat as she choked out the words. And shoving the letters back and telling him not to write just made her think of Korra’s letter telling Asami not to write. 

She didn’t understand. She wanted nothing to do with Dad, yet he kept reaching out, kept trying to make amends, to reconnect with her. She wanted everything from Korra, but just when Asami had started to feel closer to Korra than ever before, Korra pushed her away. It wasn’t fair. She wasn’t going to pretend like she was some perfect picture of innocence, but she’d done her best all her life to be kind, to be generous, and this was how she was rewarded?

Hot anger had welled up inside, but telling her father off had done nothing to cool it. She wanted to go hit something, if she was being honest with herself. Or maybe go to the racetrack and drive as fast and recklessly as she could. Or even to hop on a train and send herself far far away.

Instead, she wept on a park bench, hoping no one would notice as she covered her face to conceal her tears and soft sobbing sounds. 

And when she was able to control and stifle the tears, when she felt a flood of longing and nostalgia and regret upon looking at a father and daughter playing Pai Sho in the distance, she came to an uncomfortable realization.

As much as she wanted to hate him, she couldn’t. She loved her dad. She always would. That was why she was so furious with him. And maybe trying to hate him, trying to push him away wasn’t good for her.

She knew she owed him nothing, least of all her forgiveness. But maybe this wasn’t about what she owed him. Maybe it was about what she owed herself.

Dear Korra,

Tenzin sent the kids to find you. I have no idea if they ever will. I’m terrified that you’re gone forever.

I saw my father. At first I wanted to tell him to his face to never contact me again, but I’ve decided to give him a chance. I’m not sure if I will ever be able to forgive him, but I want to try.

I’m not sure what I’m going to do with this letter. Put it in the box with the others, I guess. 

I love you.

Love,

Asami

It had felt like an eternity since that night on Air Temple Island, when Korra was supposed to arrive but didn’t. It hadn’t been that long, mere days, but time stretched on immeasurably when one was worried about a friend. 

But what could she do about it? Nothing. Part of her had wanted to take one of her planes and go search for Korra with Tenzin’s children, but that seemed a little ridiculous. Surely a group of airbenders could travel and search for Korra much more easily than Asami could in a clunky, loud, flying machine.

She leaned back in her office chair and let a small sigh escape. She had opted to work in her office downtown today. It was louder than usual at the Sato estate since the coup, Yin was devastated and was making quite the fuss over the disrespect to the monarchy. Asami didn’t disagree, but she also did not care for the Earth Prince after meeting him and quite frankly she didn’t have the emotional fortitude to process the political implications.

Her office was peaceful, a welcome reprieve from all the tumultuous feelings that had been plaguing her, but she knew that eventually, she was going to have to deal with all the anxiety and rage and sorrow and disappointment all swirling around in her head. But perhaps, if she blocked it all out, she could simply focus on the balance sheets in front of her.

Just as she got started, the phone rang. Normally she was quick to answer, but part of her just didn’t have it in her to hold a conversation. She let it ring a second time. A third. Finally, she took a deep breath and picked up the receiver. 

“Asami Sato speaking,” she said curtly. Professional and to the point.

There was a brief moment of silence before a voice sounded through the speaker.

“Hey Asami. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Korra!?” Asami blurted out. She almost couldn’t believe it. Was she imagining what she wanted to hear? She hadn’t heard Korra’s voice in three years, but the second she heard it over the phone, relief and sorrow and affection washed over her all at once. She was overwhelmed and scarcely knew what to do.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Korra’s voice was rich, resonant and bright. She sounded like she was smiling. Asami was too. “I’m back.”

“Back in the city?” Asami asked desperately.

“Yeah, I’m on Air Temple Island right now.” Korra let out a soft, shaky breath. “Listen, about my last letter—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Asami interrupted her. She didn’t want to get into that right now. “I just want to see you! Are you busy? Do you have plans? Should we get lunch?”

Korra laughed on the other side. “Lunch sounds great,” she paused. “I don’t know how to get in touch with Mako, could you call him and invite him?”

Asami’s heart sank.

She didn’t realize… Korra must still… Did Korra have feelings for Mako?

Asami swallowed hard. She composed herself quickly, and injected fake cheer into her voice. “Of course! I’ll give him a call right now…”

They made their plans, she called and invited Mako, and when she hung up the receiver, she focused very hard on controlling the storm of feelings brewing up inside of her.

After the lunch-turned-rescue-mission, Asami was eternally grateful when Korra pulled her aside, leaned in, and whispered in a conspiratorial voice, “hey, I’m gonna take a wild guess you don’t want to stay here tonight with…” She gestured with her head toward the open door where Mako and Wu had gone inside her home.

Asami relaxed as finally all the adrenaline and stress and tension faded away. “Not especially,” she replied, leaning in and trying not to let the loud hammering of her heart distract her.

“You wanna get out of here? I’m staying on Air Temple Island. You could too. It’ll be just like… you know. Before.” Korra’s smile was slightly off balance, and her eyes held deep sorrow and pain behind them. Before. Before Zaheer. Before Korra left. Before she pulled away from everyone and everything. Before she pushed Asami away.

“I’d love to,” Asami said, and she meant it. She knew it was absurd to try and go back to that time, but she couldn’t stop herself. She longed for before too.

It all seemed much simpler back then. The only rift between them had been Mako, and they’d built a bridge over that right away. There’d been laughter and commiserating and understanding and friendship.  

They sat alone in the gazebo as the sun set, silence descending over them after Tenzin left them alone. The quiet between them was both comfortable and alarming. Asami had a million things she wanted to say, but no idea how to say them. How could she explain to Korra how much she had missed her, how much Korra’s letters had meant to her, how hurt she had been when Korra pushed her away, how scared she had been when Korra was gone, how grateful she was that Korra was alive, how frustrated she was that Korra had wanted to bring Mako to their lunch, how angry she was that Korra deigned to criticise Asami’s choices, how entranced she’d been by Korra’s connection to the spirit vines, how—

“Asami, you okay?” Korra interrupted Asami’s thought spiral.

“Yeah, of course,” Asami lied.

Korra frowned, then cast her gaze downward.

“My first day back wasn’t exactly what I’d been hoping for,” Korra said softly.

“Well,” Asami said, carefully testing the tone of their conversation to see if a lighthearted ribbing would be received well, “I don’t know what you were expecting, inviting Mako along.”

Thankfully, Korra laughed softly, lifting her chin and making eye contact with Asami again. “In my defense, I didn’t realize he’d bring along the prince.”

Asami smiled, tracing over the planes of Korra’s face with her eyes, relishing in her smile. The orange light from the sunset reflected in her eyes, contrasting with the blue of her irises. How many times had Asami imagined what she’d say if she could look into Korra’s eyes again? She was almost afraid to open her mouth, unsure of what she’d say now that she and Korra were truly alone.

“Korra,” Asami said, daring to speak but determined to hold her feelings close. “Why didn’t you… Why didn’t you tell me why you didn’t want me to write?” The question surprised Asami as much as it seemed to surprise Korra, whose eyes went wide. Asami kept her voice steady as she calibrated what to say, how to properly express to Korra that she was hurt without placing an undue burden on Korra’s shoulders. She’d been through so much, Asami knew that, but would it have been too much to ask for her to simply be honest in her letter to Asami?

Of course, maybe Asami shouldn’t judge anyone for dishonesty, considering how much she had held back in her own letters.

“I just… Couldn’t” Korra answered, pressing her lips tightly together as she leaned her arms against the railing of the gazebo.

“I mean, I understand now why you didn't want me to write. You didn't want your parents to realize you weren't in the city,” Asami said gently “I figured that out when your father said you’d been writing him letters saying you were here the last six months.”

Korra didn’t reply.

“Look, I get it. It’s just…” Asami took a deep breath. “You could have told me. You didn't have to… I mean, I know you didn't lie, exactly. But if you'd said that you needed time to yourself and you didn't want anyone to know where you were, you could have said so. I would have understood I wouldn't have told anyone. I mean,” Asami voice grew more frantic as her words began to tumble from her lips against her will. “Have I ever given you reason to think I'd disrespect your wishes like that? I mean, I'm not Mako, for goodness sake. I wouldn't rat you out!”

Asami clamped her mouth shut and willed her fists-which she hadn’t realized were clenched—to relax.

“Asami—”

“Sorry,” Asami interrupted. “It’s fine. You’ve… You’ve been through so much. You don't have to explain yourself to me.” 

“That’s not it, Asami, I never meant to… I was just…” Korra trailed off, not finishing her sentence. Korra clutched the mug in her hands tightly; both she and Asami fixed their eyes on the curls of steam as it rose into the air before vanishing.

“I’m exhausted,” Asami said after one too many heartbeats of silence. “Maybe I should head to bed…”

“Yeah,” Korra said quietly. Sadly. A spark of guilt jolted through Asami’s chest. She shouldn’t have said all that, she shouldn’t have made Korra feel bad for not telling her everything, not after everything Korra had gone through.

Asami didn’t move. Korra stepped forward. For one, crazy, delusional second, Asami thought—

“Thanks for the tea,” Korra said as she walked past Asami.

Asami lingered, watching as Korra walked away. The sun finally disappeared under the horizon, and darkness fell.

Dear Korra,

I'm penning this in bed, before I go to sleep. Preparing for the invasion.

I'm terrified.

I'm scared for you and for me. I'm afraid of losing you. 

I’m afraid I’ll never get a chance to tell you how much I love y

Asami didn't finish the letter. She ripped it to shreds instead.

It felt odd, having a wedding so soon after the invasion. The city was still in shambles, and there was so much work to do to get it back up to par. Zhu Li had already made it known—loudly, who knew Zhu Li had such a big voice?—that Varrick’s Global Shipping would be philanthropically contributing to the recovery efforts, and that there would be no honeymoon because Zhu Li would be overseeing the refugee aid center herself.

Asami had an eye for event planning. This looked like a big, fancy, expensive shindig, but it appeared most of the decor was from Varrick’s mover sets. They hadn’t spent much on this wedding at all. Asami was unsure if it was Varrick’s idea or Zhu Li’s, but she appreciated the frugality, particularly if it was at the benefit of charity.

Asami hid out on the upper part of the island, sitting in the shadow of the library tower. She didn't really feel like celebrating. Weddings were nice, and all, but it all felt hollow. She was still grieving her father—she felt like she’d been grieving his loss for three years, since he went to prison, but she’d just begun inviting him back into her heart again. It was horrible, to have him close again only for him to be ripped away from her violently.

So no, she didn’t really feel like dancing or celebrating. She looked out over the island, watching the couples dance around the floor. When was the last time she’d danced? When was the last time she’d danced with someone? It had been a while. She’d been so young.

She turned, facing away from the festivities. She leaned against the cold stone of the building, hugging her arms around herself and closing her eyes, feeling the cool sea air lightly blow through her hair. 

It was only a matter of time before Mako and Korra would make their way to the dance floor together . She didn’t want to see it.

Why not me? Asami wondered, surprising herself at the thought. She knew, of course, why Korra would never dance with her, not like that. And it wasn't the dancing Asami wanted, anyway.

Korra had asked Mako for support when she saw Zaheer. Not Asami. It felt unfair. Hadn't Asami been the one Korra told about how hard her recovery was? Wasn’t Asami the one she had reached out to? Hadn’t Asami been the one patiently sending letter after letter, never letting Korra stray far from the front of her mind. Meanwhile, Mako had given up on Korra after a couple of months of no replies.

Yet Korra wanted Mako.

But, Asami supposed it was inevitable. Mako and Korra. They were sort of meant for each other, weren't they? They’d had a contentious relationship, but it had been full of fire and love and passion. Maybe it would finally work between them, now that they were both older and had had some time apart.

Much to her dismay, Prince Wu (King Wu? Did his coronation count? Was he King again after Kuvira surrendered?) strolled up the path toward the library. Great. Now she’d have to fend off unwanted advances while coping with the fact that Korra would never—

Wu reached the end of the path, and Asami turned to see him looking out over the party.

“I don't want to dance,” she said in her most polite, but passive aggressive tone she could manage.

He jumped slightly, turning toward her. He looked surprised, which caught her off guard.

“Ah! Miss Sato.” Wu straightened his posture and put a hand on his hip. “Didn't see you there. My apologies.”

“Really?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. “You didn't come up here to pester me for a dance?”

“No! I'm terribly afraid I didn't notice you there. Which is inexcusable, you look ravishing tonight! You really do turn heads, you know!” he spoke a little more quickly and frantically than usual.

She straightened her back and pursed her lips into a frown. “Hm. Well. I’d like to be left alone, if you don't mind.”

“Oh,” Wu’s face fell and she almost felt guilty. “Right. Of course. I didn’t mean to—” 

Wu was interrupted by Varrick’s loud voice, shouting that he needed one of the airbenders to loan him a wingsuit so he could glide off of one of the roofs. Asami couldn’t tell for sure, but she was reasonably certain he had been drinking. Hopefully no one was stupid enough to indulge him in his dangerous request, but several others were drinking as well, and Varrick’s announcement that he intended to fly was met with far too many cheers for Asami’s comfort.

“Oh for spirits sake,” Asami said with a sigh. “Where’s Tenzin? ” She asked.

“He and Korra are at the island entrance,” Wu answered, frowning at the increasingly rowdy display as others began actively encouraging Varrick to make his flying attempt.

Wait. Korra was with Tenzin? The last time she saw Korra, Korra had been approaching Mako, presumably for a dance.

“Korra isn't with Mako?” Asami asked before she could stop herself. She peered out and scanned the island, and sure enough, Mako sat alone at a table and Korra was far off in the distance, almost a speck at the edge of the island.

Not that it mattered if Korra hadn't started back up with Mako tonight. It’s not like Korra would ever—

“No, why?” Wu asked, then gasped loudly. “Wait, You weren't suggesting they’d be together, were you? Asami, Asami, you're a smart, funny dame, but you of all people know what a disaster they were together. No, no, no. Those two are never getting back together!”

“How exactly do you know that?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. Since when was Wu privy to Mako and Korra’s history? She was surprised Mako would discuss such things with anyone, especially his employer.

“Mako told me in no uncertain terms when I asked him fifteen minutes ago,” he said with a shrug. “Why, were you hoping for a dance with him?” He waggled his eyebrows obnoxiously.

“No,” she answered curtly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to dance with you.” She frowned at him. “I'm going to go get Tenzin,” she added, brushing past him before he could hit on her again.

She half expected him to follow her, but instead, when she glanced over her shoulder, Wu was sitting on the bench Asami had left behind. His posture had slouched and he had a dreary expression on his face. Asami almost felt guilty for being marginally impolite to him. Almost.  

She weaved her way through the crowd of guests, and her path took her near where Mako sat alone. Her eyes trailed down from his face to his sling, and she felt a rush of gratefulness that he’d survived the invasion. Asami knew that it had been close, too close, and Mako might not be here if Bolin hadn’t saved his life.

After everything they’d been together—after all the times they’d hurt each other and leaned on each other—Asami felt pulled toward him.

She approached his table but didn’t sit down. He glanced up at her and smiled. He looked handsome and well put-together, and three years ago, she could have easily dragged him onto the dance floor and back to her home and into bed. But they weren’t stupid teenagers anymore, and everything had changed.

“I was going to go find Tenzin,” Asami said to him. “Are you alright?.”

“Yeah, of course.” He shifted in his seat, an awkward motion considering how off balance he was from being in a sling. “Why?”

“Your arm,” she said, tipping her head that way. 

“Oh, yeah.” He glanced down at the bandages, as though he’d forgotten about his injury. “No, it's okay. I'm doing fine. It itches, mostly. Not really painful.”

“Hmm,” she said softly. “Well. Just so you know, I shot down your friend pretty harshly a few minutes ago. He’s up by the library sulking.”

Mako rolled his eyes. “He's not my friend. Former employer. Heavy emphasis on the former, thank the spirits. Back to my real job, once I'm cleared to work again.”

“Good,” she said, and she meant it. He'd been miserable working as a bodyguard. She wanted Mako to be happy, she always had. Even when she was furious with him, even when he’d hurt her. Plus, she couldn’t imagine him leaving her and Republic City behind to live in Ba Sing Se. “Anyway, I'm going to find Tenzin, Varrick is trying to find a glidersuit to jump off the roof,” she said wryly.

Mako scoffed. “Good. Let him.” 

Asami laughed. She couldn’t blame him for his grudge, but she was curious about why he was here in the first place if he hated the groom so much—supporting his brother, Asami supposed. Performing a marriage ceremony was a great honor, and Mako would always want to be there to show his support for Bolin.  

Mako tipped his head toward the island entrance. “Tenzin went that way.”

Asami smiled, reached out and gave his shoulder a gentle, affectionate squeeze. Then, she left him behind.

“Excuse me Tenzin, Varrick is looking for you.” Asami said as she approached them. “Something about wanting to borrow a glidersuit to fly off the tower?” Tenzin’s face contorted in horror.

“That doesn't seem like a good idea!” Tenzin rushed off without saying goodbye.

Asami almost turned around to leave Korra be… Not that she wanted to, but she wasn’t sure what Korra wanted. She didn’t know if Korra wanted her around.

She didn’t know if Korra wanted her at all.

“Wanna sit with me for a minute? I'm not ready to get back to the party just yet.” Korra said, and it was like a weight was lifted from Asami’s shoulders. She smiled and did as Korra asked, sitting next to her on the steps. Naga laid nearby, snoring softly as she slept through the distant sounds of the party.

 “I don't think I ever really apologized,” Korra said suddenly.

“For what?” Asami asked, blinking widely in confusion

“For being gone all that time. For not coming back sooner. For not writing for so long, then telling you not to write to me and disappearing for months…” Korra looked down.

“You don't need to apologize for anything,” Asami said softly. She hesitantly reached her hand, letting her fingertips lay on Korra’s hand. Korra stared at where their hands touched. “I'm just happy you're here now.”

Korra lifted her head and looked up at Asami, blue eyes shimmering amidst all the lights from the party. Asami glanced down at their hands. She couldn’t make eye contact, not while their hands touched.

“I don't think I could have handled losing you and my father on the same day,” she blurted out. She hadn’t meant to mention her father, but he was so fresh on her mind, it was hard not to.

Suddenly, Korra’s arms were around her, and Asami’s skin tingled where Korra embraced her. “I am so sorry for what happened. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it, I wish I could have—” Korra pulled back slightly, though she still had Asami in a tight embrace.

Asami wiped away a few tears that had escaped, at least as best she could while Korra held her tightly. “Thank you. I'm just glad I was able to forgive him…”

Korra let go of her, and Asami’s skin felt unpleasantly cool where Korra had held her. 

“I’m so sorry about how I acted that day at lunch. I was an ass, you were right, I had no right to disappear on you and then show up telling you how to live your life and make you feel bad for trying to reconnect with him and—”

“It’s okay, Korra. I understand,” Asami interrupted. “You were just worried about me…”

“I was. But I shouldn’t have said that.” Korra pulled her arms around herself. “And I should have told you why I didn't want you to write, I just…” she took a deep breath and Asami waited patiently for her to collect her thoughts. “I felt like I didn't deserve it. All your attention, the time and effort you put into those letters. Not after I ignored you for so long. Not when I wasn’t getting better, and I couldn’t fight or bend the way I used to. And when you offered to come to the South Pole again, I freaked out. How could I take you away from your work just to come watch me fail over and over again?”

Asami’s heart lurched painfully. Korra had been feeling like she would be a burden, no matter how many times Asami insisted she wasn't. 

“Oh, Korra I would have loved to come to the South Pole, just to be there for you.” She reached out and put a hand on Korra’s shoulder, inching her body close. “You know that, right? It didn't matter if you were still recovering. There were a couple of times I was tempted to just show up, but I wanted to give space.”

Korra huffed. “I think if you had, I would have been annoyed at first, but I would have been glad to have you around.”

“Maybe I should have been more honest in my letters,” Asami said, painfully aware of how close they were right now. “I should have told you how I really felt instead of trying to tiptoe around it.”

“How you really felt?” Korra said, her voice uncharacteristically small.

I love you, Asami had almost written. She hesitated, feeling the urge to blurt it out, but keeping a careful control over the words. Instead, she reached out to where Korra was wringing her hands in her lap. Asami placed her hand over Korra’s, and Korra’s hands relaxed under her touch. 

Asami’s heart was pounding, and for a moment she wondered if Korra would push her away again.

Instead, Korra turned her hand, palm up, and clutched Asami’s. Asami’s whole body buzzed with want, having Korra so close.

“Yeah,” Asami said softly. “How I really felt.” Asami panicked for a moment, fearful about what would happen if she just let the words roll off her tongue.

Korra turned her head and locked eyes with Asami. She smiled, and Asami felt like she could melt.

Korra spoke again, changing the subject before she could speak.

“So, what now? Back to the dance floor?” Korra asked. “I think Mako’s all alone out there, he might like a dance with you.” Korra’s voice was hesitant and nervous.

“No, I don’t think I’ll be dancing with Mako again, not like that, anyway.” Asami leaned back on her hands and looked up at the night sky. “Plus, I'm kind of all danced out. Honestly, after everything that's happened the past few months, I could use a vacation.” She huffed a small laugh.

“Well… Then let’s do it.”

“Do what?”

“Let’s go on a vacation. Just you and me. The two of us.”

“Just… us?” Asami asked, her voice catching in her throat. She didn’t want to let herself misread Korra. Just the two of them, two friends going on vacation. Right?

“Yeah, I mean. If that’s…” Korra hesitated, breathing in deeply, then exhaling. “Is that okay? Is that… Something you’d like…?”

“I’d love that,” Asami said softly, squeezing Korra’s hand. Korra blushed. 

“I’ll take you anywhere you want.” She squeezed Asami’s hand back.

“All that time I spent redesigning the roads, I’ve been working so closely with all the spirit vines and the spirits in the city, but… I've always wanted to see what the actual Spirit World's like.”

Korra’s face lit up. “Sound’s perfect. Let’s get out of here. We can leave tonight, if you want?”

“And just ditch the party?” Asami asked hopefully.

“Yeah! I mean, unless you really want to stick around and watch Varrick jump to his death in that glidersuit…”

Asami burst into laughter. “No, tempting as that sounds, I’m more than happy to get out of here.”

“Great!” Korra leapt to her feet excitedly. “I'll jot down a quick note for Tenzin, so he doesn't worry I've run away again. Then we can sneak out, run to your place, grab your things—”

“Korra?” Asami stood, reaching out and holding Korra’s hands as she faced her. “I missed you and I’m really glad you’re back.”

“Me too.”

Tenzin,

Sorry to disappear from the party so suddenly, but Asami and I decided we needed to get away for a bit. We’re going to visit the spirit world. Please make sure everyone knows not to worry, I promise we’ll be back. (Hi Tenzin! It’s Asami, I promise I won’t keep her for long, a couple weeks, tops!)

Thank you for everything,

Korra 

Dear Korra,

I have to admit, I was a little bit surprised to receive your letter the other day, given that all of your questions can be asked in person. Say, over a nice, romantic dinner at Fan's Dumplings? Hmmm—this wouldn't have anything to do with that assignment Tenzin gave you, would it? I thought you were supposed to be the one recording and reflecting on your experiences as the Avatar?

I’m kidding. I'm always happy to write back. It reminds me of old times. Even though I knew you were struggling, and even when I wasn't sure what I felt, just seeing your handwriting appear on my desk could brighten my whole day—and I needed it!

For such a long time, I felt like I was just going through the motions of running Future Industries. But ever since I made peace with my father, it's become important to me that I protect his legacy—not his legacy of hatred, but his legacy of love and sacrifice. He loved my mother, and he sacrificed his life for me—for all of us. I want to honor that.

As for your request: The next time I see you, I’ll be sure to provide you with several blueprints of the various technologies that have helped you throughout your time as Avatar, including the original designs for the first Satomobile. You still need to learn how to drive, you know? Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook!

I’ll see you tonight.

Love,

Asami

“I can’t believe my baby is getting married!” Senna said, fretting over Korra. Korra rolled her eyes and grinned widely at Asami. 

“Mom, we haven’t even started planning yet. Relax!”

Tonraq placed a firm hand on Asami’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you two. You’ll invite your cousins, right?” he asked Korra.

“Dad! I just said we haven’t even started planning yet!” Korra sighed in exasperation.

“Oh Asami, sweetheart, let me see your ring up close, oh! It’s lovely!” Senna held Asami’s hand and leaned in close to examine the ring. Asami had been nervous that Korra's parents wouldn't approve of a modern ring, as opposed to a traditional betrothal necklace. But Korra and Asami both agreed the practice was too steeped in traditional gender roles for either of them to want it.

Still, they tried to honor Korra’s water tribe traditions by emulating the style of betrothal necklaces in ring form, from the blue gems to the patterns of waves engraved on the silver. Asami was enamored with hers, though she could tell Korra needed time to adjust to wearing jewelry.

Senna and Tonraq fawned over Asami for several minutes, complimenting the ring, congratulating her, and excitedly tossing out wedding planning ideas; while Korra smiled wistfully as she watched them from her seat at the dinner table.

She wondered why they were doting more over Asami than their own daughter, and a warmth grew in her heart as she realized why. They’d always accepted Asami, but now they were making it clear that she was family. Like a daughter to them. Asami was suddenly overcome with a tearfulness that threatened to erupt. She blinked back the tears and accepted a loving hug from Senna.

It wasn’t the same as hugging her own mother and father, but Asami relished the feeling all the same.

Tonraq and Senna kept Asami occupied as they doted and fretted over her—and after some time, Asami noticed Korra had disappeared from the dining room.

When she’d pulled herself out from between her future in-laws’ attention, it didn’t take Asami long to find Korra—she simply had to walk up to Korra’s bedroom. Asami realized that she hadn't seen it yet—she had never stayed here overnight before. There had never been a need, since the spirit portals made it relatively easy to travel from the South Pole to Republic City, so there had never been a need for them to stay the night.

Asami peeked her head in through the doorway. Korra had her back to Asami and was looking out the window, hugging her arms around herself as she gazed out at the night sky.

“Korra?” Asami asked softly, not wanting to surprise her. Korra looked over her shoulder and smiled, though there was a touch of sadness to it. 

“Hey, sorry. Didn’t mean to abandon you back there.” Korra rested her forearm on the windowsill and leaned her shoulder against the glass.

“I love your parents,” Asami said, stepping further into the room. “I never mind spending time with them. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Korra said, her gaze sweeping around the room. “I always feel weird, being in this room. I spent so much time here…”

Asami closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Korra. “I’m sorry, I know it must be hard to be back here.”

“It sort of feels like… It was just a room for me to suffer in, you know?” Korra said into Asami’s neck. “It’s not like I grew up here. When I was little, before we knew I was the Avatar, we just lived in a little home on the outskirts of Wolf’s Cove, and then I grew up in the compound… my parents didn’t move here until after I’d already been in Republic City for a while.”

“So all the time you spent here, you were… sick.” Asami clutched Korra tightly.

“Yeah. It was… Well, it sucked.”

Asami pulled back and gripped Korra gently by her shoulders. “I wish I would have…” Asami should have come to see Korra, she knew that now, she knew Korra had needed her.

“You saved my life, I think.” Korra lifted her eyes and blinked at Asami. “I wasn’t… I didn’t want to die, but I went to some dark places where sometimes I didn’t want to… be.”

“Oh, Korra—”

“Your letters kept me going.” Korra smiled, her eyes glistening. “You never stopped. Every couple of weeks, I’d get a new letter, and I’d…” Korra reached up and clasped Asami’s hand, tugging her over to the bed. Asami watched as Korra got down on her knees and reached under her bed. She pulled out a box and placed it on her mattress, on top of the blue blanket of the carefully made bed. 

“What’s this?” Asami asked just as Korra opened the lid of the box. Inside was a stack of paper— letters.

“I told you I reread them. I kept them safe in here, so I could read them whenever I needed them.”

“Oh, Korra, I guess I knew you saved them, but…” Asami reached out and ran her fingers down the edge of the entire stack. “There’s so many…”

“They’re all from you,” Korra said. “I got a few other letters at first, but I just put them in the drawer of my desk. Eventually I needed a whole box for yours.”

Asami’s heart felt like it could burst with joy. Korra had told her several times that she’d kept every letter, that she’d reread them, that they had meant a lot to her… . She hadn’t realized how many letters she had sent. But seeing them all together, stacked on top of one another, it was surprising

“I guess it looks a little deranged, having them all stuffed in a box together but—”

Asami pressed a kiss to Korra’s lips.

“I kept all of your letters too. Plus, there are a few letters I never sent…”

Korra's eyes grew wide. “You mean, the one you almost told me—”

“That I love you? Yeah. I wasn't sure what to do with them, at the time. I almost destroyed them because I was sure that we’d never… you know.” Asami reached across the bed and held Korra’s hand tightly, running her finger over the ring on Korra’s finger.

“I can’t believe you never showed me the letters!” Korra asked, a hint of teasing in her voice. “Where are they?”

“In my closet, with all the letters you sent me,” she admitted sheepishly. 

“Well, I guess that explains why I never found them. Your closet is huge. Big enough to get lost in.” Korra laughed and Asami rolled her eyes affectionately. “How come you never showed me?”

“I haven’t thought about them in a while. I haven’t had to, I guess.” Asami shrugged. It hadn’t been on her mind. Between work, the city’s recovery, traveling across the nations for both business reasons and Team Avatar missions, she just hadn’t had a lot of time to think about a stack of letters shoved into the back of her closet.

Plus, she and Korra were together. No need to dwell on a time when Asami thought her feelings weren’t returned.

“I’ll show you when we get home, if you want,” Asami said after a moment of silence

“I’d like that,” Korra said softly. She picked up the papers, placing them in her lap and thumbing through them. “Let’s see, where is it… Ah!” She pulled a piece of paper out and handed it to Asami.

Asami held the paper in her hand. It was creased from where it had once been folded, and the edges were worn and soft. Asami trailed her eyes along the writing, and her heart caught in her throat. 

Dear Korra,

I miss you. It's not the same in Republic City without you. How are you feeling?

Things are going well here. I just got a big contract to help redesign the city's infrastructure, so I'll be keeping pretty busy for a while.

Can't wait to see you again,

Asami

Korra had told Asami many times that she had reread Asami’s letters during her recovery, but now Asami held the proof in her hands. This paper had been handled over and over and over, judging by the way the corners were warped and how the texture of the paper was worn out where one would naturally hold it.

The first letter she sent to Korra. The words seemed stiff and foreign, and Asami would never forget the mix of emotions she'd felt when she’d penned it. Of course, now Asami could tell that her feelings for Korra were sending her into spirals of uncertainty, but at the time, all Asami knew was that she had trouble finding the right words.

“I ruined it a little,” Korra said, pointing to a tiny cluster of stains on the paper. Water stains. The stains were under the body of the letter, but one had reached the edge of Asami’s signature, causing the ink to bleed out ever-so-slightly. Tear drops. Asami’s own eyes welled up with tears at the thought.

Asami recognized the words, the penmanship, the syntax, the signature. It was her letter, after all. But it felt like a different person wrote it. In a way, that was true. Asami was a different person now than she was years ago, back when she was lonely and confused about her feelings and filled with rage and sorrow and loneliness…

Now she was just… happy. Content.

She leaned over the stack of papers and pressed a kiss to Korra's lips. The words in her first letter, and so many after it, might have felt wrong and censored and stifled and timid—but it was incredible to use it as a benchmark to see how far they’d come.

Things had felt wrong for so long, Asami was grateful that now, with Korra’s lips against hers, things finally felt right.

GREETINGS FROM EMBER ISLAND!

Honeymoon is going great. We’re having so much fun! We’ve been relaxing by the beach, doing lots of sightseeing, and eating so much delicious food!

We promised souvenirs for everyone, but we decided to do a stopover in the Spirit World for the last few days, so we’re shipping them directly to you. Hope you like them! Looking forward to when we can all get together again!

Much Love,

Asami and Korra Sato