The Avatar's Master

6. Ache

Meanwhile in Republic City...

Asami Sato sped her way across town in a red sport Satomobile, top down, long black hair flying in the wind. She zipped through the streets, weaving in and out of traffic, turning this way and that until she heard a siren blare behind her.

She looked in her rearview mirror and rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses to see a Republic City cop struggling to keep up and desperately signaling her to pull over. Great, Asami thought and abruptly pulled over to the right in an abandoned parking lot. She nonchalantly checked her appearance in the mirror – her red lipstick resting atop pouty lips were smudge free, though her hair was a little wilder than usual. She took off one of her riding gloves and combed a manicured hand through her jet-black hair and flipped it out and over her shoulder just as the copper approached. And, son of a fire ferret, it was –

"Mako?!" Asami was incredulous before remembering her annoyance for getting pulled over. Mako brooded over her in his grey uniform, dark hair smoothed back and raised jagged eyebrows with red irises glaring at her.

"Asami?" What the? I mean Why are you driving like that? Where are you going in such a hurry? Is something going down?" Mako was ready to call for back up and jump to action, but Asami motioned that it wasn't a life or death, Team Avatar-type of emergency.

"I would say it's good to see you, but I'd be lying if I said I appreciated getting pulled over. What are you doing handing out speeding tickets? I thought you were back on the detective beat?"

Mako started to respond but paused when he got a good look at Asami, who was wearing a black leather sport jacket with the sleeves rolled up and collar popped and the Future Industries gear logo above the left breast. Underneath she wore a little red shift dress that came up to mid-thigh and was bunched up in the seat, one side sliding down her leg as Asami shifted it upward to angle herself toward Mako. She lifted her sunglasses to rest atop her head and her big green eyes shone back at her old friend and lover.

Mako blushed at the sight and desperately tried to keep from looking at her thigh. It had been ages since he got laid, and he had heard through the spirit vine that she and Korra had called it quits. But still, he couldn't. Things were different now. Oh yea, and he was working.

"I am a detective, but I'm covering a shift for one of the guys. This was my old beat, so I'm doing it for old times' sake... plus Chief Beifong ordered me," Mako rubbed the back of this neck. "Anyway, where are you going? And.. new look?"

Asami adjusted her skirt. "Listen Mako, it's been nice catching up and all, but I'm running late for a very important presentation."

"Of what?"

"This," Asami said, motioning all around her to the ruby red coupe. It was unlike the clunky design of old Satomobiles; the sides were smooth and round and ergonomically designed for speed, style, and comfort. "I'm presenting this car, a new model, at a conference, like NOW; so, if you excuse me, either write me a ticket, or let me go. Please," Asami said, tapping her fingers on the wheel.

"Whoa, whoa," Mako held his hands up defensively, "I don't know what's with the sudden 'tude, but unfortunately, that's not a proper emergency, and so I am going to have to write you a ticket. I'm sorry Asami. I have to be fair and just."

Asami rolled her eyes and put her glasses back on. "Whatever. I guess I'm not surprised. Well, do you mind if I change my outfit while you write it? I was going to change there, but now I won't have time."

"I guess –"

But Asami was already out and walking around to the trunk of her car where she had an extra pair of pantaloons. She slipped out of her boots and shimmied the pants up her thighs and under her red dress. Then she lifted the dress over her head to reveal a flimsy black tank top. Mako buried his head into the little ticket notebook, scribbling furiously.

"Hey, uh, what's your address?" Mako asked, as Asami put the leather jacket back on and zipped it up to the top of her chest.

"Oh, you don't know it by now? You know, the one your whole family stays at rent-free?"

"Oh yeah! I remember now," Mako blushed but then he remembered himself. "Hey, I have a duty to treat every citizen of Republic City the same, no matter what or who."

"Blah, blah blah," Asami grabbed the ticket from Mako as she made her way back to the driver's seat of the car and plopped back in. "Mako it's OK. I can afford it."

That was rude, Mako thought. It wasn't something Asami would normally say.

"OK, that's enough, Asami. I know you're probably going through a hard time because of your breakup with Korra, and –"

"You can stop right there," Asami held up a hand.

"What I mean to say is I'm here if you need somebody to talk to," Mako said, leaning onto the side of the car as Asami started it. She revved her engine.

"I'm running late. Check in on you and Bolin soon!" Asami said and zipped off to be a boss business lady.

The truth of the matter was she missed Korra deeply. These last three weeks were as torturous or worse than the three years she spent apart from Korra after the incident with Zaheer and the Red Lotus. The ache was unbearable, but Asami dealt with her emotions differently than her hot-headed girlfriend. She was no stranger to suffering, first with the loss of her mother, then her father, and now Korra again. She was trained that no matter how much it burned, to the outside one must appear strong and not overly burdened by emotions. That was the mark of a strong leader, her father had said.

She remembered the public appearances and press conferences she attended with her father as a young girl after her mother died. Her father seemed so strong then, and she likewise learned by observing him through the crack of his office door late in the evenings, the stench of strong spirits – the boozy kind – heavy in the air and her father's face buried in his arm, crying and drinking the nights away for his lost beloved, that this type of pain was meant to be suffered alone so as not to burden those around the sufferer.

And so, she pushed her yearning for Korra aside and plunged herself into work and, more and more, into life's dangerous and idle pleasures, only stopping during the lonely witching hours of night to mourn her loss.

The CEO sped her way to the convention center, which rested on the bay where the ocean met the city, and presented her new designs to the public and to investors.