Onward We Go

__________

Sun Bak was only seven when she beat up her next door neighbor. She stood over his quivering body, blood in his mouth and tears streaming down his eyes. He whimpered and moaned and begged her to stop.

He begged her to stop but her fists were shaking and heavy, and they descended upon him like the wrath of god itself. Her brother stood to the side, mortified but also awestruck, caught between crying and cheering her on. 

When the family bodyguards finally came to tear her away from her prey, she saw her brother in the corner of her eye, telling their father how much he tried to make her stop. 

It was his fault she had to beat up the poor boy. Her brother asked for her help. Her brother asked for saving. Her brother asked for blood.

And now, their father looks at Sun with disgust, while her brother stands behind him, somehow innocent. 

___________

Sun’s sitting alone in her cell when she suddenly feels that she isn’t. 

“Sun! How are you? Having a good day I hope, because I’ve got this feeling - that today’s gonna be a great day!” says the one whom Sun thinks smiles too much. Capheus. 

And Capheus goes on, laughing and blubbering about Van Damme, while Sun listens halfheartedly, expecting him to call on her within the next thirty minutes to beat up another small army. 

Only, when he does call on her, it’s to watch Van Damme movies on his living room couch. 

___________

Sun Bak was 14 when she learned of the depth of her rage. 

Her master tells her that strength comes not from rage, but from calm. But Sun doesn’t understand, doesn’t believe. Her punches were always the hardest when she was angry. 

Her master tells her that there is strength in calmness. That raging winds could never hope to knock mountains down. He swats her shaking arms, her weak legs. He makes her hold the position for as long as she could. 

It is then that Sun looks within, sees for the first time the boiling pot of pure undiluted anger raging away within. Calm, she tells herself, she must be calm.

And instead of the rage going away, leaking out like unbearable steam, she finds the rage burning even brighter, her wrath growing heavier and more powerful than ever before.

She realizes that her anger is calm. That her rage is silent. That it’s all part of who she is. 

___________

“Why do you always look so angry?” Lito asks, checking his reflection while Sun sits in the seat beside him, her eyes wandering around the small trailer. 

“It’s just how I am.” Sun replies, calmly, before picking up the photo of Lito and his boyfriend placed on his dresser. “You two look so happy in this picture.”

“Do we? Ah well... You know, when you fight for what you believe in, you feel good. And I fight for us. And that feels very good.”

Sun nods, setting the picture back down, while Lito watches her out of the corner of his eye.

When he calls on her again it’s to eat frozen yogurt together. It takes a lot of effort on Lito’s part, but he does manage to get Sun to laugh. 

(Lito bragged to the other sensates for weeks about it.)

___________

Sun Bak was 22 when she saw herself for who she truly is.

She stood in the ring, the cheers of hundreds of people ringing in her ears. Before her, her opponent, beaten and bloody and motionless. The referee raises her arm, declares her the winner. She keeps her eyes glued to the man on the ground, so defeated and so weak. 

Sun Bak is strong. Incredibly so. Anyone that dares defy her will find themselves sprawled on the canvas just like her opponent. Anything in her way will be ground into dust by her fists, weighed by wrath and oppression and the undying need to prove herself. 

This is who she is. This is what she does. She was even born in a graveyard, you know. Sun Bak, the woman destined to destroy. Sun Bak, guided by fate itself to be wrath made incarnate. 

Maybe part of Sun didn’t want this. Maybe she wanted to be something other than her anger. But she looks at the cheering crowd, at her opponent, at her bloody fists. 

Maybe she is nothing but her own wrath. 

___________

“You ever looked at something so bright you had to look away?” Riley asks, smoking and sitting on the floor of Sun’s cell. 

“No,” says Sun, “why would I?”

“I dunno. Maybe to look at something greater than you. Something far beyond what you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes when I look at you I need to look away. You shine bright like the sun sometimes, Sun.” Riley says, laughing, looking up at the cell’s ceiling. 

“That’s not true. I’m good at hitting things. Not at being some thing to be watched. I’m a born destroyer.”

“You know, you aren’t just your wrath.”

Sun looks at Riley, stares at her with as cold a gaze she could muster. Riley looks back, smiling and easy and open. 

“To us, you’re our protector.”

In that moment Sun sees it in Riley’s eyes. She means it. To them, Sun isn’t the destroyer. She isn’t death. She is their protector.

The spirit world is beyond any of Asami Sato’s expectations. All her life, she has mastered the art of science and logic, of reasoning and rhetoric. But in this world, none of those things have any real meaning. This is a place where the heart rules over the mind, where reality is only what you want it to be.

At least, that’s how Korra tried to explain it to Asami. Asami, who’s already lost in the unexplored world unfurling right in front of her. Asami, with her long silky black hair, slightly swaying in the breeze, making her seem almost like a spirit herself.

And Korra knows it’s rude to stare, but she can’t help it. She can’t look away. Asami’s eyes sparkle with wonder, as she chatters on excitedly about everything she’s seeing. She’s smiling and so, so happy and Korra’s just as happy to see her this way.

Korra reminds herself to be suave and smooth, to try to sweep Asami off her feet. She tries to recall any one of the hundreds of pick up lines she practiced over the weekend, tries to come up with something to say to Asami to get her to blush and fluster and fall madly in love with the avatar.

But maybe Korra should have instead been focusing on where she’s going, because she trips on a root and face-plants so hard Aang probably feels it.

____________

It’s midday when they find their progress cut to a grinding halt. They stand on a valley cliff, looking down into the vast chasm right before them, separating them from the side of the valley that they want to be on. Asami approximates the gap to be around 20 meters, give or take. She tries to see the bottom of the chasm but can’t. All she sees is the valley side disappearing into the ominous shadows below. She looks up at the blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. She shifts her weight from foot to foot, her boots scraping against the dry, hot earth.

Just a minute ago they were walking around a lush forest and suddenly they’re here in this vast desert, with nothing but the scorching sun on their backs and the steaming, cracked clay under their feet. Asami doesn’t get how that was at all possible, but she’s going along with it as it’s happening. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she watches as Korra surveys the immediate vicinity, a hand cupped over her eyes to keep the sun from blinding her.

“Ah, crap. I guess we’ll have to go around it.” Korra eventually says, shrugging.

“Um...”

“It’s so hot too, what a drag.”

“Korra...”

“It’ll probably take us, like, an extra hour or so.”

Could it be, Asami thinks to herself, that Korra has somehow forgotten that she could bend the earth?

“Korra.”

“Ah! Uh. W-what?”

“Maybe... I don’t know... Maybe a certain avatar could... you know, bend a bridge so we could cross.”

“A certain... Avatar?”

“Yup.”

“Huh.”

Yes, she has somehow forgotten.

“Korra.”

“Oh! Oh. Y-you mean me. Avatar. Avatar Korra. Me.”

“Yes.”

“Oh! Y-yeah of course! Haha... haaa!” Korra stutters, trying to laugh while her voice trembles. Asami smiles back, sweet and sincere, relaxing Korra.

But before she could bend a bridge for them to cross, they suddenly find themselves back in the forest.

This makes Asami conclude that the spirit world is now just messing with her.

____________

Later that day, they set their camp up for the night, the orange glow of their campfire framing their faces as they wait for their water to boil. Surrounding them is a vast open field, with ankle high grass and strange flowers blooming in all directions.

In Korra’s mind, sirens have been going off for the past half-hour.

She reminds herself that she is, in fact, here for a reason. A mission. A duty. A sacred vow to herself. Yes. She even promised Naga, who, at that very moment, was busy eating Pabu’s favorite pillow.

Korra watches silently as Asami pours hot water into their instant noodle cups, watches as Asami gracefully rips the flavor packets open, pours them in. Korra finds herself tracing the lines of her fingers, her jaw, her lips. All so gentle and elegant, maybe tracing burning lines across Korra’s skin.

Korra swallows hard.

She’s here to tell Asami Sato her feelings. Indeed, a confession. An honest admission. Of what exactly? Having a crush the size of the entire Earth Kingdom? Wanting to rip all of Asami’s clothes off? Being in love with Asami Sato?

Love? Now that’s a thought that gets Korra really choked up, the sirens in her mind blaring louder than ever.

“Koooooraaaa,” Asami says, playfully, “come on, eat up. If you aren’t careful some spirits will steal your food.”

And Korra snaps back to the present, to Asami eyeing her, to the steaming cup of instant noodles helpfully set before her.

Maybe it’s just Korra’s imagination working its wonders, but she could swear that Asami’s blushing right now. Even with the reddish orange glow of the campfire, Asami Sato is definitely blushing. Korra mechanically picks up her cup of instant noodles and starts eating, conscious of the fact that Asami hasn’t taken her eyes off of the avatar.

“You know, I’m in this for the long run.” is all she says.

“Huh? Long run?” Korra asks, chopsticks gripping noodles stopped midway their path to Korra’s mouth.

“I’m in this for the long run. I’m serious about you, Korra.”

The sirens in Korra’s mind start blaring so loud that Asami could probably hear them. It’s all she could do to keep herself from dropping her chopsticks and food, to stand up and rip her shirt off in some kind primal expression of desire.

Instead Korra gapes at Asami, all the words she’s ever known trapped somewhere in her lungs. She wills them loose, focuses every bit of her being into responding just the right way.

“Good thing we both like cardio then.” Korra finally says.

And Asami laughs, so honestly and so beautifully, while Korra laments her poor choice of words, wishing the spirits to just take her. Korra, blushing furiously and Asami so happy to just be with Korra like this.

____________

Before Korra even realizes it, they’re already done with their short vacation, already making plans and promises to go back. Here they are, right in front of the looming gates of the Sato mansion, about to part ways for the evening.

Maybe it’s the way the rays of the setting sun paint Asami in brilliant strokes of gold. Or maybe it’s the way she shyly tucks loose strands of hair behind her ear. The way she’s slightly biting her lip. The way her emerald eyes are looking right through Korra, half-lidded and piercing and deeper than any ocean Korra’s ever known. The way Asami’s voice melts her from the inside out.

(Most likely it’s the fact that she grew up in a compound, cold and lonely, but right now that’s the last of Korra’s thoughts.)

The avatar’s lived a thousand lives, experienced a thousand feelings a thousand times over, yet somehow she can’t find the words to even begin to express what she’s feeling. All she knows is that it’s bubbling inside her, both like lightning and molten magma but in an incredibly good way. She tells herself that she’s had this feeling before, that she’s gone through the motions once before. But this is different somehow. It’s less like the relentless crashing of waves and more like the tide coming to sweep her away, so gently and so powerfully, drawing her in before she could even think to react.

It’s love, she realizes, as she stands dumbstruck in front of the Sato mansion, hand raised to say “good night” but the words lodged in the base of her throat. Love, she muses, as Asami giggles and says good night for her, turning and leaving Korra glued to the spot.

This feeling is love.

____________

[A/N] Yaaaaaaay I finally got this one started! Sorry it took me forever to do it, what with my recent break-up and life and what not.

_____________

Asami arrives at the bar a little earlier than she and Korra had agreed to. She sits by the bar, and orders a quick shot of vodka. Something to ease the nerves. Loosen up. She downs it, and slams the shot glass on the counter, inhaling sharply and feeling that sweet, sweet alcoholic burn. 

She’s a disaster waiting to happen, and she knows it. All the problems in her life are piling onto her shoulders and she feels like her legs are about to snap. She can already feel at least a dozen eyes on her, looking her up and down, assessing how hard it would be to get her drunk enough to sleep with them. In her current state, it wouldn't be hard at all. If she weren't waiting for Korra, she’d probably be shit-faced already, fucking some stranger in the back seat of her car.

Have some dignity, she tells herself, that’s never how you do things. 

She checks her watch. Korra’s running a bit late. Asami orders another shot and quickly drinks it. She feels the emptiness in the pit of her stomach grow. She wills it away, tries to rationalize how okay everything is gonna be, but it aches and it throbs and it begs for her suffering. Yes, Asami thinks for a moment, I should spiral into despair and let my suffering eat me whole. I should drink until I’m unconscious. I should fuck a dozen strangers tonight. Maybe even all at the same time. Anything to make the pain stop. 

But that’s never how Asami does things, and she quickly dispels those destructive urges. She adjusts her position on the bar stool and asks for a glass of water. 

Just then, Korra enters the bar. Only, she isn't alone, Asami quickly notes. Her companions include: a tall muscular guy with broad shoulders and eyebrows that remind her of caterpillars, a girl who, judging by the arm slung around her shoulders - must be caterpillar eyebrow guy’s girlfriend, and an even taller guy with a slightly thinner build with - oh wow seriously, shark-ish eyebrows. 

Korra spots her by the bar, and waves. Asami waves back, and Korra gestures for her to relocate to a booth where they all fit. As they settle down, with Korra, Asami, and caterpillar guy’s girlfriend on one side and caterpillar guy and shark guy on the other, they all smile at her, as if they all already know her. 

“Soooo,” caterpillar guy says, leaning into the booth’s table and raising a thick caterpillar-y eyebrow, “you’re Korra’s elusive Satobot.” 

Asami doesn't know how to respond. She blushes. Korra’s? Satobot? She never quite got to talk about that one with Korra, who’s currently shooting caterpillar guy a positively evil glare. Caterpillar guy shrugs and laughs. 

“Sorry, my friends are absolute idiots,” Korra says, much to the objection of everyone else at the table, “lemme introduce you.”

“That asshole is Bolin.” Caterpillar guy.

“Hey!”

“That other asshole is Mako.” Shark guy.

“Hey!”

“That awesome lady is Opal.” Caterpillar guy’s boyfriend.

“Aww shucks. Thanks Korra.”

“Bolin and Mako are brothers, and Opal is Bolin’s girlfriend.”

“Hi, I’m Asami,” Asami says, somewhat dumbstruck and shocked. She wasn't expecting company other than Korra’s tonight. (A darker side of herself just wanted to get shit-faced with Korra and sleep with her to get it all out of her system.)

“We know! Korra won’t stop talking about you!” Bolin says, gesturing wildly.

Mako and Opal nod thoughtfully while Korra shoots death glares at them all.

“Agh, whatever, I’m getting us drinks.” Korra says, scooting out of the booth and heading towards the bar.

As soon as she’s out of visual range, Korra’s friends all lean toward Asami, looking her dead in the eye and semi-glaring. Asami’s eyes nervously flitted about, making eye contact with one and then the other. 

“You better not hurt her,” Mako says darkly.

“Yeah.” Bolin and Opal say in unison.

“Uh. Okay. Y-yeah. I won’t.”

“You don’t understand,” Bolin says, scowling, leaning even closer to Asami, “if you break her heart we break you.”

Asami feels her back pressing hard against the booth’s padded seating. Korra’s friends lean even closer to her.

“Destroy you.” Opal asserts, holding up a fist.

“Snap you like a twig.” Mako says, doing a mock twig-snapping motion without breaking eye contact. 

“O-o-okay. N-noted. I won’t hurt Korra. I swear.”

Asami can feel the cold sweat beading on the skin of her back. Korra’s friends continue glaring at her, with unbroken eye contact. What do they want her to do? Sign a blood oath? Either way Asami could tell that their threats were pretty much legitimate. This makes Asami want to run away, but that might make Korra sad and now there’s no fucking way she’d risk so much as making Korra sad. 

Suddenly they all snap back and start laughing and smiling, as Korra finally approaches and sets all the beers down on the table. They don’t break eye contact, as if saying play along now, you, or else. So Asami nervously laughs along with them.

“Hope it’s okay that I just got beer, Asami.”

“Oh, no, I don’t mind.”

And they all do a quick “Cheers!” and start chugging down on their respective beers, followed by some nice, amicable chit-chat. Asami could tell that this was gonna be a long night. 

Sometime after the third round of beers Mako, Bolin, and Opal get into a heated argument about what superpower they’d each have. Bolin seemed adamant that he should have metalbending abilities, but Mako and Opal argue that it’s not very “Bolin-y”. Korra taps Asami on the shoulder.

“I hope it’s okay that I brought my friends along.”

“It’s fine. They’re...” Asami tries to keep her memory from flashing back to the recent threats, but fails, “interesting.”

“...I’m sorry,” Korra says, and she does seem truly apologetic, “I just... I saw you a lot on the news, and I thought that maybe... That maybe you really need a friend.”

Asami blinks, genuinely shocked. Korra rubs the back of her neck and expounds.

“I mean, you seemed so lonely and I don’t mean to pry or anything. It’s just, I dunno, I thought I could help so I thought maybe instead of just one friend you can have four. And I know I don’t know anything about you and I’m tooootally rambling right now but I just. Ughh, I just thought that with four more friends you’d be less lonely and - Oh gosh! Asami no don’t cry! Oh my god I’m so sorry!”

But Asami’s already sobbing. Korra’s friends stop arguing and switch from staring at Korra, who’s flustering and apologizing, to Asami, who’s a weeping mess. 

“Thank you,” Asami finally says between sobs, “I would very much like to have four friends.”

A look of relief washes over Korra’s face and her friends smile genuinely at Asami. Korra embraces Asami as tight as she could. Bolin gasps from his seat and rises, wrapping the entire group in an embrace. It’s difficult with the booth table separating them, but Bolin squeezes hard and they all feel the table uncomfortably pushing into them. 

“Awww, friendship. What a beautiful, wonderful thing it is.” Bolin says, grinning and squeezing even tighter. Everyone groans.

“Yeah,” Korra grunts, “Bolin’s a hugger, watch out for that.”

Opal and Mako grunt their agreement. 

Somehow Asami finds it within her to giggle. She feels the pit of despair in her heart slowly fade away. In its stead is happiness and gratefulness. She’ll definitely owe Korra and her friends one for this. 

She corrects herself - they’re her friends too now. They’re all friends. 

______________