It's my party

[mortemscintilla]

WHO: Korra & Hei
WHAT: Everything continues to be awkward and terrible. At least there is cake.

[ Tonraq's death had cast a pall over Mai's first birthday. But the second -- navigated by the traditional lunar calendar -- falls on a different day of the year, so there is no threat of celebrations and mourning crisscrossing. Korra isn't one for funeralizing anyway, Hei knows. Her father is gone, and she won't let him out of her heart and mind -- he'll always be with her as long as she's alive. But she needs to live, while remembering her existence is defined not just by death. There's loss, but there's also joy. Old sorrow, but new life, too.  ]

[ At least, he figures those are her reasons for this little party. ]

[ Asami had phoned him the week earlier. She'd invited him to brunch at Kwong's, explaining that Korra and Mai would be there. I know you only see them once a week. Maybe it'll be nice to socialize a bit more. Aching to go see his daughter -- but wary of making Korra uncomfortable -- Hei reluctantly declined. In dreams, he saw Korra, Mai and Asami as if in a sumptuous watercolor painting. Imagined them at the restaurant, cozied under the multicolored glow of an expensive stained-glass lamp, sipping tea from colorful crockery. He dreamed, as sloppy brushstrokes filled out the scenery, that they were all relieved by his refusal. He saw Mai's face melting into blankness, a doll devoid of any recognition for him, before the dream shivered away like paper torn into soggy bits. ]

[ He tries not to think about it. Mostly, he keeps himself too busy to think. He's moved out of the dump he'd rented, to the forty-sixth floor of one of the twin high-rises that Future Industries has constructed downtown -- a sleek but affordable complex. He chooses a three-bedroom corner apartment. The place is bright, airy, larger than he needs so most of the rooms go unused. But he likes living on the top floor, with a glittering view of the city, above it all. Also, at the time he'd rented it, it was to his advantage to take a place that didn't fit the profile of what a loner, recently separated and with minimal needs, would take for an apartment. ]

[ (It wasn't his only reason -- sure. But it also wasn't the first time his wishful thinking had blurred so seamlessly with his operational instincts.) ]

[ He's still working with Future Industries. With -- not For. The quirky old tech he'd been assisting has freelanced into weapons manufacturing -- and Hei had resolved to go with him. The arms trade isn't his main interest, though. He's spent the months since returning from the Enterprise rebuilding and restructuring the network he'd left behind. In Republic City, the basis exists for a competitive, free market of intelligence. The police force needs it, the President's entourage need it, as do the Earth Kingdom, the Fire Nation, the Water tribes. The means to access terrorist cells, to infiltrate the dens of well-connected kingpins, to assassinate political rivals, to create elite military units. ]

[ He is working toward developing his own private op. Hell, ever since the furor in the Earth Kingdom, there are new outfits springing up all over, the equivalent of Halliburton and Blackwater and K-Crucible, and it's hard to tell where the governments end and the shady private sector begins. Buyers have got their choice of which faction to gather intelligence, manpower, artillery -- or cannon fodder -- from. Hei intends to make sure his product is better than best. ]

[ (He knows, if Amber were here, she'd be laughing at how his life is playing out.) ]

[ A few nights before the big day, his phone rings late, while he is in bed, his eyes getting heavy over a book. This time it is Korra, inviting him to Mai's birthday. Not a huge celebration -- just a small intimate gathering. Startled, Hei agrees -- before he can think twice about how stupid and heartbroken this will leave him once he's there. He doesn't want to socialize with Korra's friends -- or be reminded of the life he'd tossed away. Doubts, too, that he'll get much private daddy-daughter time with Mai. But it will be enough to see her. She's growing, little by little. He doesn't want her to have no concrete childhood memories of her father beyond their one-hour playtime on Fridays. ]

[ When he first approaches the Beach House, he thinks it has caught fire, but the vapor wafting out of the windows is sweet incense. Something stops him from just knocking on the door; maybe the bright undercurrents of people in the air. Peering through the window, he watches Korra bustle around, her gestures elegant and formalized, like a medieval dance, with a whole host of partners. Tenzin, Pema and the Air Babies. Jinora and Kai. Asami. Mako. Bolin and Opal. And in their midst, impossibly small, the glowy sparkle in her eyes outshining everything in the room, is Mai. ]

[ For a minute Hei just stares at her, as if he is watching some mimed play. His daughter, and Korra -- his best beloveds -- right there on the other side of the glass. A strange object lesson -- of everything he'd almost had, and foolishly squandered. ]

Comments

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei doesn't bat an eyelid when Mai whacks his face. As her fingers creep toward his mouth, he curls his lips over his teeth and bites down gently, a mute growl. Mai shrieks -- a garbled pitch between horror and delight -- and snatches her hand away. The taste of her tiny fingers is slightly nauseating, a blend of sweat and sugar and mucus and the residue of whatever bacterial micro-sites she's investigated that day. Still, he enjoys the way her gaze locks with his, fingers fluttering a daring few inches from his mouth, her eyes glowing, positively aflame, as though to say -- ]

[ I was starting to think you weren't going to make it. ]

[ Distracted from their game, he glances at Korra. Each time he meets her eyes, a dozen conflicting feelings tear at his heart. He wishes he could make things different -- better for her and Mai -- instead of wasting so much energy trying to control the tailspin of his own life. To be a father, a caretaker, a lover, everything he ought to be. Except he is beginning to get the message that his role is always going to be more complex and difficult. ]

[ He says, a bit gruffly to cover for the feeling behind his words, ]

I've missed a lot of things. Not planning to miss this, too.

[anatural]

[Korra's eyes narrow at that gruff tone, and there's a hint of warning in her voice when she responds.] Good. [She lets it go at that. The gruffness may irritate her, and she knows that groveling apologies would have been even more annoying, but she's not going to let her feelings ruin Mai's party, especially now that the toddler is old enough to remember when things go wrong.

She continues in a gentler tone.] She hasn't had her dinner yet, if you want to feed her. It's in the fridge. [The little girl is still too young to eat most of the food laid out for the guests. Korra lingers a bit, in case Hei wants to hand the baby back to her, but assuming he doesn't, she'll go off to talk to her friends and give him some quality time with his daughter. Always with a weather eye on them both, but not hovering the way she used to.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei understands the clemency he's being given. Nods at Korra -- surprise, gratitude -- as Mai wriggles friskily in his arms. In the midst of the party's easily intimate hubbub, he is out-of-place, and jittery. A few quiet moments with Mai will at least restore his equilibrium. It's her big day, and he is an accessory, at best. That is the beauty of it; the privilege to do no more than watch his little girl have fun. ]

[ He doesn't return Mai to Korra's arms. Letting her flit off to socialize with her family, he bears the crowing toddler to the brightly-lit kitchen. Dinner is a touch-and-go affair. Mai's babbly happiness and scatter-brained inattentiveness gradually gives way, as he tries spooning food into her mouth, to tearful frustration at not being able to see her cakecaaaakecake; her poor appetite that is really hungry fretfulness; her general air of fizzing over with so much excitement that she can't function at the simplest tasks. ]

[ Patiently, he coaxes her to nibble on salted crackers. Slips spoonfuls of creamy congee into her mouth, distracting her with conversation: he's discovered quickly that she grows still, transfixed, by the sound of his voice, the gravelly up-and-down cadence of it. So much of what he passes into the tiny pink ears is in Portuguese or Mandarin, but Mai never seems to object. She listens with round eyes, her wet little lips parted to accept dinner, while Hei talks about the most mundane things -- from the rainy weather, to the stagnant water on the roads, to the park he'd like to show her, to the marketplace where they sell citrusy mangosteen with crushed ice. ]

Maybe later, [ he says, a near-whisper as he scrapes Mai's bowl clean to deliver the last bites of congee, ] You can stay over with me. Eat the snacks in my fridge. Make a mess of my flat. That sort of thing.

[ Mess-mess!, Mai coos, waving her hands and nearly knocking the bowl down. Catching it neatly, Hei smiles, ignoring that dull, carved-out ache in his chest. ]

[anatural]

[Korra can't keep herself away from the kitchen, though she tries. She coos over pictures of the children Opal and Bolin have been caring for in their orphanage; she catches up with Mako on the latest Earth Republic news from Wu; she moderates a passionate debate between Tenzin and Jinora over the young woman's reformist philosophies. But a part of her is in that kitchen, pulling her towards it.

She arrives just in time to hear You can stay over with me, and her heart freezes. Without even realizing it, she's halfway into the kitchen and pulling Mai into her arms.] Don't.

[Fortunately, Pema is nearby, and Korra hands the wriggling toddler off to her. She doesn't want Mai to hear this conversation.]

Don't you ever say something like that to her without talking to me first. Do you understand? I am not going to be the bad guy because you get her hopes up and I have to say no.

[Mai's too young to understand what Hei told her, which is the only thing keeping Korra reasonably civil about this. She knows it's inevitable; by virtue of the fact that Hei isn't around all the time, he's already the "fun" parent, while Korra's the one left to handle discipline and the unpleasant parts of parenting. But she refuses to let him think he can manipulate their daughter to get what he wants. She is nipping that in the bud right here, right now.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei blinks as Pema carries Mai away. The toddler wiggles in her grip, trying out escalating notes of distress. Her eyes are moist little coins; seeing everything and understanding only some of it, but more, perhaps, than he realizes. The she's gone, and for a heartbeat all sound dies, leaving the kitchen in a bubble of silence that feels heavy as lead. The gabble of laughter and voices leaking from the edges of the house startles him; for a moment, in the ease of playing with Mai, he'd forgotten his shattered life. ]

[ Jaw tight, he meets Korra's gaze. Her voice is harsh, and her eyes burn with a barely-banked fire. Mistrust. Disappointment. Something much worse than anger, anyway. He's seen that look before, and hates how he's always the one who sparks it. After what he's done, she'll always, in her heart, think him a bandit, and be willing to believe anything about him as long as it is terrible. ]

[ He can't blame her for any of it. He can blame himself, though, for being short-sighted. He doesn't imagine Mai will ever be allowed to stay alone with him. He also doesn't imagine he'll be allowed uninterrupted hours with her -- not in a way that won't force an ugly confrontation. Any hoped-for reconciliation with Korra is also threadbare fantasy. For a little while he'd let himself hope ... but now he remembers. ]

[ Bitterness is like rising ice-water. ]

I'm sorry.

[ This is what happens when he starts to think ... what he shouldn't think. Both Mai and Korra deserve so much better. ]

[anatural]

[At least he's learned to apologize. Korra closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and expels her negative feelings as she exhales. Mostly.]

It's fine. Just... talk to me before you make offers like that. [She can hear Pema calming the fussy Mai... and Hei's expression, the way something inside him seems to curl up like a salted slug. Korra doesn't want to be the Bad Guy.]

I haven't even seen your new place yet. I can't let Mai visit you there until I've seen it myself.

[mortemscintilla]

[ She's in an unenviable position. Hei knows that. He can tender apologies, and she'll accept them, but not as excuses. After his failure, she can only trust her own judgement, because no one can say for certain when her patience for his screw-ups stops being wise and starts endangering Mai. If protecting their little girl means being a dragon, she's well within her rights. ]

[ Something in his chest twinges -- his heart slamming its fists against his ribcage like a starved beast. He's reminded that the greatest victory his own failure has won is for every truly happy memory he ever has of Mai and him to be locked inside a cage. He's not allowed to have any joyful parenting memories that don't have Korra in them. Because all the wonderful moments (chasing his squealing toddler around the yard with the watering can, balancing her on her tricycle, showing her how to gather seashells) were only possible because Korra was standing by, approving. ]

[ You have no one to blame for it but yourself. ]

[ He closes his eyes briefly. Breathes in, breathes out. (Tries to convince himself that the aching bolus in his throat is from dehydration, not grief.) ]

[ Meeting Korra's look, he tries for a half-smile, dredging up playful pretense. ]

You could drop by. I'd make those empanadas you liked.

[ Like old times, back in the City. Except not. ]

[anatural]

[It's painful to watch him try to smile -- knowing that he's hurting and there's nothing she can do about it because it's his own damn fault. Korra can't quite meet his eyes.]

How about tomorrow? I can ask Jinora to babysit for a few hours.

[mortemscintilla]

[ He wasn't expecting her to take him up on the offer. Stunned, Hei draws in a breath through the pinched ache in his chest. He tries not to let his imagination race away on a lit fuse of hunger and hope. He has practice in schooling his face to stone. But with Korra in his eyes, he cannot make the floating surface of his face freeze; he feels he must be showing everything. ]

...Sure.

[ His eyes are downcast for a beat with something like shyness, and his voice carries a soft honesty that makes him feel nearly as young as Mai. ]

[anatural]

[Luckily for him, Korra's not looking.]

Great. I'll talk to Jinora now. [After a moment.] You should get some dinner, too. We'll be having cake soon.

[mortemscintilla]

[ He doesn't need to be told twice. Setting Mai's plastic bowl and spoon aside, he drifts back into the livingroom. He feels dizzily cluttered inside at Korra's words, detached, a sense of unreality bleeding in from the corners of the brightly-lit room. ]

[ The food is savory, but even as he piles his plate with tidbits, he barely tastes anything. Tenzin pointedly ignores him, Pema is glacially polite, Mako shoves a plate of tea-eggs at him and communicates only through grunts and shrugs, while Bolin tries drawing him into conversations which, to his ears, are just indistinguishable babble. Asking for context seems rude and, in any case, there is no reason to suppose he'll understand much of what is being discussed. He's dropped well out of these peoples' lives. ]

[ Wearily, he consigns himself to a chair at the corner. Around him, every item in the beach house is charged with significance. But nothing arrests his attention quite like Mai, who toddles up to him at once, deliciously sweet with her sparkling eyes and streaks of pink pastry on the corners of her mouth. ]

[ Leaning in, Hei gently daubs the smudges off her face with a thumb. ]

Ready to cut your cake?

[ She giggles in apparent agreement, before puffing a mouthful of breath upward, dislodging a wispy lock of hair from her forehead. Clearly someone has given her lessons about blowing out candles. ]