The Avatar's Master

28. Full Moon Rising Party

While Korra was off on her adventure with Mako and Bolin, Asami had once again spent the day locked in her office, answering calls, assuring investors that the Satomobile was still a quality vehicle. The embarrassment of losing, and really not even finishing, the big race in Ba Sing Se had sunk in upon her arrival back home to the pile of newspaper headlines disgracing her name.

Korra of course had tried to console Asami, but the conversation inevitably turned to Chai Son and his failure as a driver. Why should Asami bear the brunt of negative publicity for Chai Son's mediocracy? A guy like that gets more credit than he deserves, Korra had said. This infuriated Asami deeply, perhaps partially because it was true, but still she found herself defending him.

It was exhausting – the need for Asami to be perfect in the eyes of everyone, even at times Korra. So, over the past few days, she took out her frustration on the person she loved the most by isolating and working herself to the weary bone. It wasn't difficult – Korra had closed off to her too. It was subtle but nonetheless, she felt it – Korra was afraid of herself, of what she was becoming, and this must have been lonely. Asami wanted to be there for her partner but she couldn't force her way in; she had to be patient and admittedly that could also get quite lonely.

This evening Asami had agreed on a late-night outing with Varrick and Chai Son. Though she was exhausted, she thought perhaps she could shake herself out of it by mixing business with pleasure.

The instructions she received were to wait for a call, which would provide the address and password to a masquerade ball. In the meantime, she got gussied up, twirling her hair in an up-do and dressing in a red and gold formal gown that came up high at the neck and opened at the back.

Because she was Asami Sato, she happened to have an emergency formal gown lying around her office, but she had to make a call to Daisuke to procure a mask for her – porcelain and bejeweled – which arrived on her desk minutes before the phone rang with the information. The address she knew right away – a country estate outside the city that had a rotating list of powerful renters. The password she wrote down on a napkin she had used to dab her lipstick. 

Asami wanted to invite Daisuke to come along but was instructed this was an exclusive affair that no one without an invitation and password, and especially not the Avatar, could attend. It was likewise understandable Korra would not be invited to these functions – her naive sense of justice, her brashness, her immense spirit she projected into the world took up too much uncomfortable space in luxuriously stuffy places like that. Asami sighed and shuddered, feeling a cold chill sidle up her spine. Those were all things she loved about her Avatar.

The phone rang once more.

"Asami Sato speaking."

"Miss Sato, your ride awaits you," a man's voice, her chauffeur, said.

She gathered herself up, did a last check in the mirror, and met her driver downstairs, who held the door open to the luxury Sato Duesenberg.

The estate was about 45 minutes outside of the city, a massive thing surrounded by a platinum gate with a thick wall of bougainvillea hovering over the archway.

Two men in tuxedos and matching masks stood at the gate.

"Password," one of the masked men said.

From the open window, Asami replied: "Fidelio."

The two men nodded and pulled opened the gate, motioning for the car to pull forward.

They followed the long driveway to a courtyard leading up to the house where other limousines and luxury cars were parked. They were not all Satomobiles. Some were Firerarris, which had made a splash among the rich in recent years, and after winning the Grand Prix, it now reigned supreme.