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[Appa pushes her lightly and there's the strangest sensation of falling. She feels something nudge her and suddenly realizes she's cold, lying down in the snow.

She opens her eyes and blinks up at the figure standing over her.]

Mako?

[For a moment, it's as though she had just escaped from Tarrlok's prison, and she wonders if everything -- losing her bending to Amon, being taken to the City, dying & being brought back, Li -- was just a dream.

But no. The snow's not heavy enough; her clothes are wrong, and that's Hei wearing a red scarf. Mako's scarf is still wrapped safe and snug around her own neck. She's disappointed...but only a little.

She had seen Appa. Really seen his spirit, not just a dream of a memory. Had she actually crossed into the Spirit World somehow? She doesn't know what it means or why it happened, but it gives her hope. She smiles.]

Oh, hey Li.

[She pushes herself to her feet. Everything that's happened between them feels distant, almost muted. She had seen Appa.]

[ There's a faint quirk to his eyebrow when she calls him Mako. It's a moment before he connects it -- oh. The red scarf. Hard to stay oblivious, when she carries the boy's possession around like a banner of moony-eyed mourning. He's not sure what the deal was with Korra's group of friends. Just knows that it was a polygonal mess of hormones. Useful, in the end. Anyone could've been used as leverage against the other. ]

[ They're all gone now. But the element of leverage is still in play. ]

[ Even so, he tugs distractedly at his scarf. Regards Korra, his eyes carefully taking in any anomalies. Bruises, stench of alcohol, dilated pupils. After their last conversation, he's expecting her to shrink away from him. That she doesn't reveals a disconnect between her mind and the Now. As if she's come out of a trance. ]

What were you doing on the snow? [ It's neutral-toned, his body neither closing the gaps between them, or retreating. ]

[She brushes the snow off her pants.]

I don't know. I was walking home, and then... [A trail of moonlight. A vision of Appa.

She shakes her head as though shaking off a fog. She doesn't want to describe the experience to him. He's too much like Chekov; he wouldn't understand what happened or why it matters.]

You're out late.

[Her tone is conversational. She'd been struggling within herself, trying to figure out what she feels in light of what Li admitted to her. But she's glad to see him. Right now, it's that simple.]

[ And then...? His eyes stay on her, mild and appraising, waiting for her to finish. But it's apparent she doesn't want to. Either she dozed off accidentally, or the girl's a secret narcoleptic. Not his problem either way. It's just odd, talking to her like this. Not out of awkwardness -- she's not the first person he's put in his crosshairs then made idle chitchat with beforehand. But simply because all their usual shorthand, of cruelty and kindness, shouldn't work here. ]

[ He'd said he wanted to kill her. To her face. Plain and simple. Why doesn't she seem uncomfortable with him? ]

[ At her question, he offers a noncommittal shrug, ] So are you. [ It occurs to him that he hasn't thought of her much these few days. Only on patrols in the Underground. While he fought, because combat is as much her medium as his -- every one of her attacks and expressions is imprinted in his memory --- came back to him in a quick rush. It was as a fighter that she'd first gotten his attention. As an adversary. He almost misses that now. Everything was so much simpler. ]

[ Aloud, he says only, ] I should get going. [ He checked on her. She's unharmed. No reason to linger. He needs to start limiting their interactions as it is. ]

[He hadn't said he wanted to, only that he should. If he wanted to kill her, they wouldn't be having this conversation now. "Should" is a different matter. There are plenty of things she "should" do that she doesn't.]

I just got out of work.

[She tilts her head a little as she looks at him. He's pulling back, shutting himself away, like he always does when things get emotional. She wonders if there's anybody he ever opens up to.]

What for?

[ Unfortunately, the argument over Want To and Should would be simpler if it were about something as mundane as a choice of cereal. Hei may dispense death with a rote matter-of-factness -- one more task on the grocery list -- but he's not sure how to interpret Korra's attitude. Denial? Extreme foolishness? Extreme bravery? Or is she insouciant with the pretend-knowledge that if he spared her life once, he'll do it again? ]

[ He isn't sure. ]

[ Nor is he sure, even now, of how he feels about her. It's not the selfish focus of a Fuck-&-Chuck. But it's not enough to label as affection, either. It's hard to decide, because his own emotions hide themselves from him. He can't guess what sort of state he's in. His feeling shrink and evade, seen only from the corner of his eye, like creeping insects. Only when he looks the other way does he have a chance of confronting them. ]

[ Except he doesn't want to. Gaze averted, hands in pockets, he steps back, ] Because it's late. [ Not really. This is prime Happy-Hour for him. ] You should head home too.

[Let's call it faith -- in her own strength, and in him. His ability to find alternative solutions. Someone who wanted to kill her would be constantly looking for the opportunity, but he seems to be waiting for a reason.]

Mmmm.

[She makes no move to leave, but she isn't going to hold him; it's pretty obvious he doesn't want to be here. She hurts for his pain, wishes she could help, but for this moment, at least, acknowledges that it's not her problem. This achingly rare moment of serenity is a stark reminder of how out of balance her own spirit has become. Before she can help anyone else, she needs to clear the stormclouds in her soul.]

[ To find alternative solutions -- or find the resolve within himself to carry through on what he needs to do. Hei's moments of lenience are rare and specific, all of them funneling into one goal, nothing superfluous or useless. Yet letting her go is useless. He knows that. Yet he doesn't mind it as much as he should. That is what makes him uneasy. Because it means he's starting to feel involved. Fuck, he'd started way before this, started when Korra was first cursed as a child. But by now his involvement has reached an uncomfortable pitch like a deep laceration, only temporarily numb-able. ]

[ The banter, the sexing, it is involving, it keeps his boredom and ennui at bay, but that makes it worse. He's growing accustomed to it. Whether Korra realizes it or not. A cold voice tells him he's gotten soft. The idea makes his skin itch. Moreso because he's not sure he remembers who that voice belongs to. He just knows it's not Pai's. ]

[ He moves to go, then hesitates, glancing back at Korra. Something is off about her. Or absent. That usual zing of impatient energy. ] Is everything okay? [ .............Is she stoned? ]

Edited 2013-02-04 01:26 (UTC)

No. [There's no point in lying about it. Especially to him -- why try to protect him from things he already knows? Her death, the shed, losing her friends, cursed Chekov, the ghouls... he's been involved in pretty much every terrible thing that's happened to her since coming here. (There's no blame in the thought, only fact.)]

But it will be.

[And she smiles at him, because the moon is bright, the air is crisp, and for the first time in her life (that she can remember), she's made contact with the Spirit World.]

[ Hei feels, bizarrely, like he's intruding on a private moment. Which is impossible. But there's something so -- serene? -- in her gaze, in the clear blue depths of it. She looks almost like Pai did upon awakening after her payment; sweet and calm and guileless, like a child. Except Pai had never known a life without guile in her brief years. It was her own nature that'd kept her separate from the surrounding filth, despite being a Contractor. ]

[ It's that same quality that draws him to Korra. ]

[ He shakes it off. Her words are ambiguous, but not ominous. Whatever's going on in her head doesn't hold a troublesome weight. That much is apparent. ] I see. [ He half-turns, ready to head home. Over his shoulder, he murmurs, ] Don't fall asleep in the snow again. [ That little implication, a subtext, that she had him concerned for a moment. Hopefully she won't catch it. ]

[ Shaking his head, he quits the park. ]

[In another mood, maybe, but no such luck tonight. She catches the subtext and boxes it away with the other little fragments of humanity he's dropped in front of her, safe in a little compartment in her heart.

And then she heads for home & the beach. It feels like the moon is tugging her to the water as surely as it does the tide.]

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