Asami was loud the first night. She released these huge, loud, terrifying sobs that racked her body, making her tremble and shake against Mako and he tried so hard to hold her together. She clung to him because she had nobody else anymore, and his scarf collected many tears.

Asami was quiet the second night. She did not cry and she did not speak but she sat there, hollow and wide-eyed, letting the world spin and fall and crumble around her. Korra discussed strategies with Tenzin in low tones around the table, and Pema wrangled all the kids together (Jinora, Ikki, Meelo, and Bolin) to help her with dinner. Asami did not eat.

Asami was missing the third night. After sitting for nearly two hours waiting for her to come back from a walk through the island, Mako succumbed to his nerves. Worried and confused and scared, Mako went out to find his girlfriend. And she was right where he expected her to be.

She sat in Korra's Satomobile, the one that had never been driven. It was tucked between two buildings, half-hidden in the trees. Asami gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. A radio was playing slow, soothing music somewhere close, and the sounds of jazz swam through the air towards them.

"I was worried about you," he said as he reclined his arms against the side of the car.

"I'm sorry," she said.

He leaned over and rested his hands over hers softly, gently, because he didn't want to hurt her any more than she was already hurting. She loosened her grip, allowing for him to lace his fingers between hers and hold on tight. She looked up at him then with scared eyes.

"What am I going to do, Mako?"

"First, you're going to get out of the Satomobile."

She obeyed. The door clicked lightly as she shut it, and she stood with her arms at her side and her head hanging low. He pulled her close to him, placing a hand on her cheek and moving it to her head of thick, black hair. His fingers dug into her soft, fragrant locks, and his other arm was wrapped tightly around her. She threw her arms around his neck and breathed him in. She breathed deep.

It started slow, like the music.

There was one step to the left, and a sway back to the right, embracing tightly as they moved because he had to hold her together. One of her hands drifted to his shoulder, and one of his found her waist. They breathed as one as their free fingers found each other and locked together. Mako wasn't a good dancer, but night covered all his missteps and all his fumbles. She was smiling at him then in the darkness, freckles of moonlight falling on her hair. He smiled back, raising one arm to spin her out. Her skirt twirled as she spun back in, and he caught her (almost) effortlessly.

He kissed her lightly yet deeply. Her lips were cold.

"And second, you're going to stop blaming yourself for your father's actions," he said after pulling away.

They danced slow.

"Okay. I'll try."