[ He's learnt a few things, on his journey. Learnt that space is absolutely black, as only perfect emptiness can be. As if the light dissolves directly into it, swallowed by the eerie nothingness that exists between the stars. ]
[ Sometimes, after his kata, practicing the styles he's absorbed with patient precision from the crew, from the mok'bara to the suus mahna, he takes a breather by the starport window. One foot propped against the bulkhead; his cheek rests against the plexiglass so his breath leaves gray streaks across the stars. He's developed a quiet fascination with watching the Enterprise leave the atmosphere of different planets. He tells Chekov that it's like night falling in fast-forward, not in the sky but everywhere, the stars blossoming like an astrological chart to guide him home. ]
[ Home, where Korra, Yin and Mao are. ]
[ The crew have kept up a search for Korra's world. A side-project at Chekov's (noisy) behest. Not out of the goodness of their hearts, but because 'Li's status isn't stowaway so much as stolen goods. He was supposed to get an unofficial tour of the ship -- not be snatched from his planet when controls malfunctioned on the bridge and the coordinates of Korra's world went askew. Since then, the crew have set up a process that probes adjacent solar systems, watching for sign of the planet. It is a very long shot, they tell Hei, because the dimensions of space, the solar doppelgangers, are infinite. But maybe... ]
[ Hei doesn't obsess over it. He has certain routines, even in the midst of the space travel. Hours where he allows himself to think of Korra, to mourn and miss her, and others where he refuses to let himself think of her at all, because it's imperative to stay in the moment, to keep going. ]
[ Time works differently in different galaxies. He learns not to keep track of it. To focus his energies on staying afloat in a completely different realm of technology and culture. To assimilate while remaining the self that those he is trekking towards will recognize. Because if he isn't Hei when arrives, the Hei that Korra had inexplicably fallen in love with, there is no point to returning. ]
[ He only hopes, when he gets there, that Korra is still alive. ]
[ The last step of the journey -- he doesn't now it's going to be the last place, except in the sense that, once again, the controls at the bridge go haywire, the way they'd done when he'd first ended up trapped on the Enterprise -- there are sparks, and malfunctioning equipment, and panic and flames, and he is near the transporter room when something shorts out in a brilliant flare and he feels a hot-cold prickle surge through him. ]
[ Hei stumbles, breath knocked out of him, and the abrupt darkness is total. He can't feel his limbs, yet still he struggles, expecting to feel pain, or glimpse some part of his anatomy on fire. Then there is light -- orange and pink, and he is on his hands and knees. When the dizziness releases its grip and he lifts his head, something enormous looms above; he shies against its crashing down on him. ]
[ It doesn't. It stays there. A regal, sharply-etched shadow, struck by the glow of the setting sun. ]
[ He is under the statue of Avatar Korra. Erected in the park, not long after Future Industries began rebuilding the vine-battered city. A group of laughing teenagers jog by the walkway; satomobiles whizz by on the busy service road beyond the fence, tires screeching and horns shrilling. The air, a waft of drying leaves, stagnant water and fresh grass, is the most natural aroma Hei has inhaled in over a year. ]
[ Fuck. ]
[ What just happened? ]
[ Dry-mouthed, shaky, he staggers out of the park. On the streets, there is endless unceasing movement. The headlights of the satomobiles and the colored traffic lights and the people moving around him are like abstract patterns. Unreal. Hei's clothes -- the equivalent of a maroon and black jumpsuit, reserved for visitors aboard the ship -- get sidelong glances. But most dismiss it as an air-bender's uniform. Near a restaurant door, he spots a UNITED DAILY box. Bends over to peer at the front page. The date on the paper is 180 AG. It was 177 when he'd slipped aboard the Enterprise for a tour and ended up hurled into the depths of space. ]
[ 11 months have elapsed for him, but he's been gone from here almost three years. ]
[ Dazed as he is, the walk seems to do him good. By the time he's found his way to the Beach House, feeling like a ghost, some of the strength has come back into his limbs, and his head feels a little clearer, though the ache of disorientation still grips his temples. It is a cool, pleasant night, the sky full of familiar stars. Still early -- he'd retraced his way back home around 8:00. It is probably 9:30 now as he comes up the path to the porch. ]
[ The place looks so different. Maybe Korra isn't here anymore? Maybe he should go to Air Temple Island? ]
[ Except Hei can see familiar pawprints in the sand. Naga. If she's here, then surely Korra can't be gone? ]
[ Heart hammering, Hei raises a hand to ring the bell. Then -- in a delayed wallop of Oh shit I'm home -- his knees judder, and he lands with a heavy thud against the door. ]
/writes u a novel u////u
[ Sometimes, after his kata, practicing the styles he's absorbed with patient precision from the crew, from the mok'bara to the suus mahna, he takes a breather by the starport window. One foot propped against the bulkhead; his cheek rests against the plexiglass so his breath leaves gray streaks across the stars. He's developed a quiet fascination with watching the Enterprise leave the atmosphere of different planets. He tells Chekov that it's like night falling in fast-forward, not in the sky but everywhere, the stars blossoming like an astrological chart to guide him home. ]
[ Home, where Korra, Yin and Mao are. ]
[ The crew have kept up a search for Korra's world. A side-project at Chekov's (noisy) behest. Not out of the goodness of their hearts, but because 'Li's status isn't stowaway so much as stolen goods. He was supposed to get an unofficial tour of the ship -- not be snatched from his planet when controls malfunctioned on the bridge and the coordinates of Korra's world went askew. Since then, the crew have set up a process that probes adjacent solar systems, watching for sign of the planet. It is a very long shot, they tell Hei, because the dimensions of space, the solar doppelgangers, are infinite. But maybe... ]
[ Hei doesn't obsess over it. He has certain routines, even in the midst of the space travel. Hours where he allows himself to think of Korra, to mourn and miss her, and others where he refuses to let himself think of her at all, because it's imperative to stay in the moment, to keep going. ]
[ Time works differently in different galaxies. He learns not to keep track of it. To focus his energies on staying afloat in a completely different realm of technology and culture. To assimilate while remaining the self that those he is trekking towards will recognize. Because if he isn't Hei when arrives, the Hei that Korra had inexplicably fallen in love with, there is no point to returning. ]
[ He only hopes, when he gets there, that Korra is still alive. ]
[ The last step of the journey -- he doesn't now it's going to be the last place, except in the sense that, once again, the controls at the bridge go haywire, the way they'd done when he'd first ended up trapped on the Enterprise -- there are sparks, and malfunctioning equipment, and panic and flames, and he is near the transporter room when something shorts out in a brilliant flare and he feels a hot-cold prickle surge through him. ]
[ Hei stumbles, breath knocked out of him, and the abrupt darkness is total. He can't feel his limbs, yet still he struggles, expecting to feel pain, or glimpse some part of his anatomy on fire. Then there is light -- orange and pink, and he is on his hands and knees. When the dizziness releases its grip and he lifts his head, something enormous looms above; he shies against its crashing down on him. ]
[ It doesn't. It stays there. A regal, sharply-etched shadow, struck by the glow of the setting sun. ]
[ He is under the statue of Avatar Korra. Erected in the park, not long after Future Industries began rebuilding the vine-battered city. A group of laughing teenagers jog by the walkway; satomobiles whizz by on the busy service road beyond the fence, tires screeching and horns shrilling. The air, a waft of drying leaves, stagnant water and fresh grass, is the most natural aroma Hei has inhaled in over a year. ]
[ Fuck. ]
[ What just happened? ]
[ Dry-mouthed, shaky, he staggers out of the park. On the streets, there is endless unceasing movement. The headlights of the satomobiles and the colored traffic lights and the people moving around him are like abstract patterns. Unreal. Hei's clothes -- the equivalent of a maroon and black jumpsuit, reserved for visitors aboard the ship -- get sidelong glances. But most dismiss it as an air-bender's uniform. Near a restaurant door, he spots a UNITED DAILY box. Bends over to peer at the front page. The date on the paper is 180 AG. It was 177 when he'd slipped aboard the Enterprise for a tour and ended up hurled into the depths of space. ]
[ 11 months have elapsed for him, but he's been gone from here almost three years. ]
[ Dazed as he is, the walk seems to do him good. By the time he's found his way to the Beach House, feeling like a ghost, some of the strength has come back into his limbs, and his head feels a little clearer, though the ache of disorientation still grips his temples. It is a cool, pleasant night, the sky full of familiar stars. Still early -- he'd retraced his way back home around 8:00. It is probably 9:30 now as he comes up the path to the porch. ]
[ The place looks so different. Maybe Korra isn't here anymore? Maybe he should go to Air Temple Island? ]
[ Except Hei can see familiar pawprints in the sand. Naga. If she's here, then surely Korra can't be gone? ]
[ Heart hammering, Hei raises a hand to ring the bell. Then -- in a delayed wallop of Oh shit I'm home -- his knees judder, and he lands with a heavy thud against the door. ]