Memories and LonelinessMemories and LonelinessMore Like This
Asami drove her car slowly into the garage, parked it, killed the engine, and stepped out. She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do in the once familiar place. All of her tools and the random things that had been stuffed into the space were still there untouched since she'd left. Even her mother's cedar chest still had a fine layer of dust on it. She had thought that perhaps her father might raid it after evading the police. She took a step towards it and stopped, her hand hovering uselessly in the air. She couldn't bring herself to open it yet. She might never be able to. It hurt her just to think of how her father had used her mother's death and memory as an excuse to become the twisted man that he had. It was like she had died all over again, and this time, Daddy wouldn't be there to comfort her and wrap her in his arms.
Her breath hitched in her throat, and it felt like there was a steel bar wrapped around her chest. She couldn't even breathe in th
Out of the Corner of His EyeBolin caught sight of her just out of the corner of his eye, a blur of white skin and black hair. He turned his head to get a better look and spotted her sitting in the middle of the stands on one of the front rows. She was at the edge of her seat, pensively watching the action in front of her, eyes flicking from one side of the bending platform to the other. Her hair was thick and curly and formed a cloud of inky black curls around her head. Her chin propped up on both fists as she leaned forward to get a better look at the action. She was one of the few young women in the crowd who wasn't eagerly calling out for the attention of the male players.More Like This
A clay disc struck him in the chest out of nowhere, ripping his eyes from her. He stumbled tried to correct himself and cursed under his breath as his heel slid over the line into zone two. A buzzer went off, and he was forced to step from the first zone into the second.
Mako shot him a frustrated look. "Get your head in the game, Bolin," he
Across a BarAcross a BarMore Like This
Asami Sato. Even her name sounded fancy, rich, elegant. He was Bolin . . . the brother of Mako. Bolin of the Fire Ferrets, and at the end of it all, he was Bolin of the Panda Lily district. Despite the flowery name, where he came from was nothing more than a slum composed of various shanty towns where factory workers eked out what meager living they could. It was crowded and dirty, and the noise from the factories across the river running through it drowned out all possibility of thought.
At one point, he might have had a last name like Miss Sato but that had been lost to him when his parents died. He barely remembered them. They were only dim outlines in his memory who stooped over him and blocked out the light. Mako was the only family he had left, and the only family that he truly remembered. Still, that had never stopped him from living and smiling and singing. When Mako was brooding over what they would eat or where they would sleep for the night, Bolin would smile an
Beggars and ChoosersAsami was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the people mill around Central City Station. There were the usual street urchins running around and getting in everyone's way, pretending to bump into people to slip their hands into pockets and filch a few yuans. There were the beggars and cons standing on the corners with patches over their eyes and faking tubercular coughs. There were sharply dressed rising business men rushing from work to their apartments for a quick lunch. This sort of crowd usually didn't draw her attention. She had seen it all since she was a young girl, but there was someone new among the panhandlers today. He wasn't a beggar or a singer or even a street gymnast. He was a young man sitting cross-legged with a ridiculous looking mustache and an incredibly tacky red, fringed jacket on. Those were not even the most interesting things about him. He was making what appeared to be his pet fire ferret walk across a miniature tightMore Like This
Here in the DarkHere in the DarkMore Like This
It was late. It was dark and quiet and peaceful, but Asami Sato could find no peace that night. She could feel the heavy stone of the underground tunnels pressing down around her, ready to smother her. She was curled up on her pile of blankets, steadily breathing to mimic the sleep that would not come. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago, but she was still laying in the darkness thinking. She had done too much of that lately. Her thoughts were constantly darting and dodging like dragon flies skimming the surface of a pond.
She remembered how Mako had always stared at Korra during their practice sessions before the Championship. She studied again over and over his reaction to her kidnapping. She bit her lip in anger as she recalled the way he had looped his arm so naturally around Korra's brown shoulders.
Asami Sato had been many things in her life, but she had never thought she was a fool until now. How could she not have seen it all this time? It made no sense. Al
Bosami- Silver Suits YouFor ArouralynneMore Like This
She dreaded going back home. Once the house had been fully searched, the underground tunnel fully excavated, and the paper work had been filed, Asami Sato was permitted to go back to her lonely estate.
This time there would be no father waiting at home for her. This time there would be no butlers. This time she would come home to an empty mansion full of broken dreams and buried memories. But that was fine by her; the memories could rot in the spirit world for all she cared.
Asami walked the halls, her footsteps slow and heavy with each movement of her long legs. The morning light leaked through the undraped windows- having never been covered since her father flocked to Amon's side. The light illuminated the marble floors and revealed the dust which lingered intimately on the drapes and table tops. Asami sighed as she watched some dust particles ascend to the windows- the sun providing more love than a desolate home.
Trudging to the room she had run