#satobot

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Korra finds herself watching the news one late Saturday evening. She slumps into her lumpy living room couch, cheap beer in one hand and remote in the other. Her phone buzzes from its place on the empty seat beside her, but Korra ignores it. The "Equalist movement" has finally been put to a stop, as the headline claims. Korra takes a swig of her beer, her face scrunching up, scowling at how terrible it tastes. 

"Amon, the late mastermind of this terrorist movement," the reporter says, "who was found dead in the aftermath of a naval explosion, was followed by his second-in-command in leading the Equalists. In an astonishing turn of events, authorities have discovered the identity of this new leader to be Hiroshi Sato, who was the CEO of Future Industries. We now switch to our live coverage of Mr. Sato's hearing and sentencing."

Korra increases the volume on the television and takes another swig of her beer. She feels familiarity tugging at the very corners of her memory, and she leans forward, trying to remember why Hiroshi Sato and Future Industries sounds so damn familiar. She's wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as a heavy-set middle-aged man appears on screen, his hair and beard streaked with gray. 

She's mid-swig of her beer as this Hiroshi Sato is indicted and imprisoned for life for fraud, treason, and some counts for some kind of degree of murder that Korra doesn't quite catch because Asami Sato is suddenly on the screen and Korra is coughing and choking and sputtering on her cheap (terrible tasting) beer.

Asami Sato. Asami fuckin' Sato. Asami fuckin'-Hiroshi-Sato's-daughter Sato. 

Realization hits Korra like a freight train. She should have connected two and two together sooner. Most have, anyway. It's almost amazing that Korra failed to realize that the girl she's crushing on (recall that it's Asami fuckin' Sato) works for Future Industries, a company well-known to be owned by the (fuckin') Sato family. No wonder her Instagram account has, like, a million followers, is the first thought to cross Korra's mind.

Korra's cheap beer and television remote slip from her hands and fall unceremoniously onto the living room floor, the former spilling all over the carpet, and Korra numbly stumbles toward the television. She puts her face uncomfortably close to the screen, her hands pressed on its sides. Her eyes affix on the image of Asami seated in the back of the courtroom: arms crossed, back slouched, her - looking so small and so sad. She doesn't pay attention to Hiroshi, who is being dragged out of the courthouse screaming and kicking and shouting, but she stares at Asami, who looks like she wants to cry all the tears in the world but can't. She gapes as footage eventually changes to a confusing mess of press and interviewers each flinging questions at Asami, who puts on a pair of shades and walks without stopping toward a car with a bodyguard waiting for her. 

The news segues into a commercial break, and it's only then that Korra remembers that she has Asami's number and that she should maybe text her and ask her how she's doing. Korra turns toward the couch, and she notices that her rug is completely soaked in the vile cheap-ness of her beer. She curses under her breath, gets some dirty laundry from her bedroom, and uses it to soak up some of the liquid, thinking that it's a completely acceptable and adult solution to the problem. She later realizes that it actually isn't, and gives up, deciding to simply buy a new damn rug because she never even liked that rug to begin with. 

She's in the middle of hastily rolling it up and throwing it out the window when she remembers that she wanted to check on Asami. Korra shoves the rest of the rug out of the window and hopes that it lands on the dumpster directly below her window (her apartment is on the third floor, her window facing another building, a narrow alleyway separating them). It doesn't. It lands with a painful thud that sets off car alarms and gets all the neighborhood dogs barking. Korra winces, but quickly shuts her window, and retrieves her phone from the couch. 

Hey I saw u on the news, she types, before erasing it, reminding herself to show some tact. Hey girl how u doin 2nite, she types, before erasing it again, because goddamn Korra, what the hell? She settles for a how r u, safe enough for Korra to sound concerned yet not prying. She waits for a reply, yet none ever comes. 

In fact, the only times that Korra sees or hears Asami is when she's on the news, and even that dies down after a while.

___________ 

Three months. It's been at least three months since Korra has last spoken to her elusive Satobot.

At first, Korra was hopeful. She would often check her phone, heart beaming with every text and every call, only to frown upon seeing that it's not The Satobot, just some mortal undeserving of Korra's full attention. Korra does see her every now and then in the tabloids (which, much to Korra's shame, she buys at the mere mention of the elusive Sato). Asami, the daughter of a terrorist, trying to salvage a company from the cinders of her father's wrath. Asami, the lonely warrior, rarely seen with anyone else in public. Asami, the girl just beyond Korra's reach. 

And then we have Korra, the girl who feels utterly rejected by the beautiful and wonderful Asami. Korra, the hulking, sulking mess of a human being. Korra, the friend Mako and Bolin comfort, with nights out and trips to strip-clubs and jokes and laughter. But it's never enough for Korra. Asami was special. Korra could feel it in her bones. There was something there, something yet unexplored, something Korra wants so desperately to discover. 

"It's alright, buddy," Mako would say, in that same terse manner he says anything vaguely emotional. 

"Yeah Korra, someone even hotter is bound to meet you," Bolin would then chime in, "And when you meet this newer, even hotter person, you guys will also probably keep bumping into each other again and again and again as if fate itself were trying to tell you that she - OW, MAKO, WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?"

And at that point Korra would be all sulky and sad, like she were pulled back into the endless drama of her adolescent years. She'd resort to checking all of Asami's social media sites, hoping for some update, some sign, that said "yes Korra, let's date some more. I'm not disappearing on you because I totally like you back". 

In her sheer desperation she even goes so far as looking up Iroh on Facebook. There she confirms that Iroh has, in fact, won the genetic lottery. Korra can't help but feel jealous of the connection between him and her precious Satobot, whatever that connection may be. As far as Korra knows, Iroh is happily married with (equally genetically gifted) children, and that the only pictures Iroh and Asami have together are at formal events. There Korra also learns that not only is Iroh gifted in the looks department, but he also does archery, martial arts, poetry, flower arrangement, and even fucking pottery really damn well. He also travels a lot. He's also super photogenic. (There's a photo of him tripping on his own two feet, but damn he looks great falling down). 

It takes a while (and it's strange because they only really went on one date, and Korra feels the loss pulling her down anyway), but at some point Korra decides that maybe fate was only messing with her. So she decides to forget about Asami Sato. Or at least she tries to.

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A little while later, Korra finds herself at some conference center at a hotel that's so fancy, she'd probably only afford to spend a night there if she sold her soul and a kidney. She's there for an "important event", as Tenzin put it. Something about some important Judo Association meeting, Korra doesn't actually know. (She wasn't listening). 

Korra does know that the formal blue dress she's wearing is uncomfortable and it makes her itch in various places, and she wants nothing more than to rip the damn thing to shreds. Preferably in private. Which thus begins Korra's search for the comfort room. 

However, Korra possesses a remarkably bad sense of direction. She swears she's passed by the engineering and technology expo at least three times. She also swears she's passed by the same group of media people roving about the hotel lobby's halls at least five times. Korra considers asking for directions, but they're the only people she ever comes across and they seem focused on searching for something else. That is, until, she sees someone unmistakable at the end of the hall. 

Kuvira.

Or "Goddamn Stupid-face Kuvira", as Korra calls her. The Judoka from the Earth Kingdom team that always manages to slam Korra so hard onto the mats that Korra feels herself transcending into the next life. The Judoka that always, always, without fail, rubs her spectacular victory in Korra's face. And Korra is most definitely not up to Kuvira's endless gloating, so she darts into the door right next to her, before Kuvira gets a chance to lock her sights on poor, poor Korra. 

Korra finds herself hiding in what she assumes to be a broom closet. It's dark, and it smells stuffy, but it will serve as Korra's temporary shelter. She shifts a little in her new space, tries to see the limits of her territory. She finds that it's a small room, cluttered with objects she tries to feel while her eyes haven't adjusted to the darkness. 

This is a box, she thinks to herself, and this is a shelf with some cans on it... And this is... cloth? What? This... Soft... A BODY???

"EEEEP!!!" squeaks a voice that is most definitely not Korra's. 

And Korra freezes. Oh god, who's there? She fishes out her smart phone from her clutch, turns it on.

Before Korra stands the woman she's tried to let go of. The woman with eyes so hauntingly beautiful that they chase Korra all the way into her dreams. The woman that Korra tried to forget. And of all the people in the world to be trapped in a broom closet with, it's her.

"ASAMI FUCKIN' SATO!?"

And Asami tries to shush Korra, but it's too late. Every single thought process in Korra's mind crashes and burns. The only light in the cramped room goes out as Korra's phone goes to sleep. 

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," Korra squeaks, her voice tiny and trembling.

Outside Asami hears the clamor of reporters figuring out where the CEO is hiding. She hears the footsteps drawing nearer. She shakes Korra in an attempt to reboot the shorter girl's brain.

"Korra! KORRA!! Listen to me, the reporters are looking for me, please, don't let them find out I'm here," Asami half-shouts in a failed attempt at whispering.

And Korra seems to snap out of it. It dawns on her that this is happening. That this isn't one of her (many) girlish fantasies. That the wonderful, beautiful Asami is really there. That the faint perfume she's picking up is hers. That - oh right, focus Korra - the reporters are right outside the door and Korra hasn't thought of anything other than wanting to kiss Asami.

The broom closet door begins to open, Korra spins around and shoves Asami in the space behind the door, so that it appears that only Korra is in the room. The door is fully opened now, and the reporters stare at Korra, standing alone in a broom closet, confused. 

Without thinking, Korra turns around, wraps her arms around herself, and while running her hands up and down her muscular frame, she makes kissy sounds. 

Yes. Korra pretends to make out with herself. And when the reporters don't leave (they're so perplexed that they can't feel their legs), Korra shoots an angry glance over her shoulder, her arms still wrapped around herself.

"Do you mind!? Sorta busy here!! GO AWAY!!" 

Which then prompts the reporters to close the door as quickly as they could without slamming it, and they run away. Far, far away, where they will all collectively try to forget what they just saw. 

Once safely out of earshot, Korra turns her phone on again. There she sees Asami (fuckin') Sato, slumped against the broom closet door, clutching her face and stomach in breathless laughter. Tears are forming at the corners of her eyes. She laughs like she's never laughed before, her slender frame shaking with the gales of laughter overcoming her. 

"Oh come on," Korra huffs, "I'm not very good when put on the spot, okay!?"

But Asami laughs even harder, and Korra pouts. Asami opens one eye, sees Korra sticking her lower lip out, her arms crossed over her chest, giving Asami her best "it's not funny" look. And Asami realizes she's never seen anything quite so endearing and so cute, and something else flutters in the core of Asami's heart. She tries to stop laughing, as best she can.

In this moment Asami decides that she's tired of being so lonely. And she smiles at Korra, the truest she's smiled in months. 

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