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She blinks back, blankly, her eyes misting over in confusion as she tilts her head slightly to the side. She sits up straighter, back resting comfortably against her pillow as she scrutinizes the young man who's just barged into the room, face flushed and out of breath. She cocks her head, asking silently.
Who are you?
"Korra…" The way he says her name, with the tender edge as his voice hitches audibly in his throat. His hooked eyebrows and angular face look familiar, strangely familiar, but she can't place it, can't place those sunset eyes. A word comes to the tip of her tongue, and her tongue tingles, like she wants to say something.
"Oh hey Bro, Korra's awake! Isn't that great?" The other young man in the room flashes a teravolt smile at the newcomer, bright enough to light up the room. His emerald eyes twinkle with laughter. Her eyes widen as something in her mind stirs, unbidden, flashing before her eyes as if it was real…
Emerald eyes sparkle with mirth, and that easy, well-practiced grin lights up the young man's features as he watches the young woman gaping in awe. She squints past the megawatt lights in the arena and takes it all in.
The cheering, screaming crowd. The half-red, half-blue sheen of the arena. The sonorous voice of the commentator she's heard so many times, shouting out names and results over the radio.
But this isn't that dingy radio on Air Temple Island. It's the real deal.
She's at the Pro-Bending Arena!
"Name's Bolin, by the way."
The rush of memories stop just as quickly as they started. She gasps, not realizing she's been holding her breath.
Bolin freezes, temporarily, before breaking out in another huge grin. He looks like a child, despite his bulky frame.
"You remember! I'm so glad, after what the healers said-"
"What did the healers say?" The newcomer has his brows furrowed in thought. There's something strangely familiar about the way he shuts his eyes, shuts those eyes that gleam golden, and frowns in concentration, and that tingly sensation returns to her tongue.
Bolin's smile fades, and he turns to face her, glancing back at the young man.
"They said… she might take a while to remember everything again." He says the last part in a rush, stumbling over his words, as if it'll lessen the impact on the newcomer. She doesn't know how she knows, but one look at the crinkle of his eyes and she knows he's struggling to compose himself. She bites her lip, asking a question that's been burning like fire in her mind, and answering the one that's hung unasked in the thick, immobile air since he came in.
"So… who are you?"
His world crashes down, as he hears those four words pour from her lips, pour like the red sticky blood he still sees so vividly, exploding from the gash on her head. His eyes search hers, and there's genuine confusion, mingled with shock, and something he can't quite place.
"You… really don't remember?" He manages to rasp out, turning away from her, because he doesn't want to see her shake her head, shake those silky locks as she inevitably breaks his heart again.
He lets out a desperate chuckle, tinged with bitter and sweet in that rough voice of his, before moving his eyes back to her, getting lost in those familiar-but-unfamiliar sapphire blue eyes.
So close. And yet so far, far like the faraway look in her eyes an instant before those cerulean eyes had shut, and his world had crumbled.
It felt like that, again, like the rubble he'd been trying to put back together had disintegrated into tiny motes of dust, flying off with the wind and leaving him alone.
Alone. Alone like in his nightmares, when her face had grown pale and her hand felt cold, clammy, lifeless, dead, and her eyes would never open again-
"I'm Mako." He manages to utter before he sinks again in the mire of thoughts that haunt him, torture him, threaten to uproot him.
"Mako." The sound of his name rolling off her tongue feels like another stab to his broken heart. It's just like she used to say it.
When they were arguing, and she was winning, and she was flaunting it.
When they were walking back to Air Temple Island, after a wild night of celebration of their latest victory.
When they were holding hands, lying on the roof of the Pro-Bending arena and gazing at the stars, and he was the happiest guy alive that she'd chosen to spend her time with him…
"I'll give you two some space." Bolin puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, before walking past him out of the room. He smiles mirthlessly in spite of himself, because Bolin doesn't understand, will never understand, the feeling of heart-wrenching loss…
Thud. It's the sound of his father's limp body, falling lifeless to the floor. Tears stream down his cheeks as he grabs Bolin's grubby hand and runs, runs like he's never run before, runs from the evil cackling voice that's just destroyed his world. He ignores Bolin's confused sounds, running out of the dark dank alleyway where he knows his parents lie, dead.
The thought hits him like a charging bull-rhino, and he drags Bolin into a quiet street as he slumps against the wall, burying his face in his father's red scarf and screaming, screaming from the pain that will never be gone.
They are alone.
He doesn't speak, content to look at her, and proclaim proudly to his inner devils that she really is just sleeping, sleeping, heart beating and blood pumping. He strokes her hair, rubbing the memory of him into her subconscious, so she'll always remember him, even if she doesn't.
The healers had encouraged him, telling him to talk to her about events that might provoke strong emotions. He inhaled deeply, trying to pick one. Smiling sadly, he decides to begin.
Begin from the very beginning.
"Remember how we met, Korra?"
A/N: Thanks to all those who reviewed, added this to favourites, added this fic to alerts, whatever you did, thank you so much!
It really inspired me to get another chapter up. :D
This week's episode was so totally awesome, and thrilling to watch. I'm waiting in suspense to see what happens to Korra!
Ciao guys, you're the best!