"Doesn't anybody ever stay in one place, anymore?"

At least ten years have passed since Korra was last in Republic City. A lot had happened in between those years, most of them leading her to places outside from here. Far, far away places – places she'd never seen before. It was nice; most of the time, she was left with decisions to make, and quarrels to settle, but those kinds of things get easier with practice, and age. Can't forget age...

But, so much had changed. Yue Bay is one of the few things that looks the same after all these years. Korra rests her forearms on the railing on the ledge of Air Temple Island, and Tenzin stands to the side of her, staring outward as she is. The children are all gone, all on their own life journeys, being nomads across the four nations, making history of their own. Pretty soon, they'll settle down at the remaining Air Temples and continue building the population, and the thought makes her smile.

They aren't the only one's gone. All the familiar faces Korra had come to familiarize herself with during her stay here have all faded. New faces, new names, new landmraks all reconfigure how things are set in her memory. She doesn't like it. Republic City was special; comign here was her first step to becoming a fully-realized Avatar. She even met her very first friends here.

The partings happened gradually.

At some point, Mako couldn't travel with her across the seas, anymore. He'd become an esteemed chief in his time working with RCPD, and his duties lied here – that was understandable. Bolin eventually had followed suit. He'd become a great coach at the pro-bending arena, even opening that boxing ring proved a great success for him. As for Asami, she was always working on new technology; it was evident in the way those new aircrafts crossed the sky abover her, that infamous Future Industries logo barely visible through the clouds.

What happens in between the time when friends become the leaf and it takes them all in seperate directions? Korra brings this up half-mindedly, and Tenzin chuckles underneath his greying beard. She remembers how that analogy had pissed her off so much as a teenager, and how she set those antique spinning gates on fire. She remembers her first win on the Fire Ferrets team. She remembers the time she fell in love, and the time she only dreamed about doing all the things she's been blessed enough to experience. It's overwhelmingly sad and happy all at once and her eyes sting.

Spirits, how do you go back to those times again?

Korra glances over to Tenzin and it seems she's not the only one drifting through memory lane. His grey eyes reflect nicely against the setting sun, even if they are more tired these days. Maybe he's thinking about those years ago as well. How he'd found her under Aang Memorial, and how worried he'd been that she was hurt. Or maybe how furious he was when he caught her competing in the bending arena-or maybe something not-as-hind-sightedly-funny, like when he'd seen with his own eyes how she achieved the Avatar state and returned Lin's bending. And of course, her break in air bending.

All of it seems so far away, even if the memories are as clear as yesterday.

She misses it, but finds that she also wants to laugh. Does Team Avatar ever think of her like she thinks of them? Would there be anything to say if they ever crossed paths again? It's a day she fears and looks forward to at the same time. There's no telling what life has done in between the gap, but she hopes it's all been good. They deserve that much.

Leaning away from the bars, Korra stands up straight, wrapping her fingers against the metal barrier and does a scan of the city skyline; it looks so foreign now, but there's a feeling somewhere deep in her chest that tells her it's still a home to her.

Would anything have changed if she never left?

The question is on the tip of her tongue, but it never leaves her lips. Would they still wake up at dawn and meditate, or sit down at the table together for meals, and run around the island on special days and laugh together and play? She wonders. That's mostly all she does, nostalgic for those times when bliss was hers to hold and she was already on top of the world.

Growing up does things to people, though. There's no scroll to prepare anyone for that – Avatar or not. Either way, life goes on.

"It's funny," Korra says, breaking the peaceful silence between them. Tenzin gradually leaves whatever thoughts he'd been occupied with and glances toward her, interest peaked. "Hm? Yes, what is it, Korra?" he asks, holding the same tone he'd used to her when she was seventeen. Some things never change, at least, and that coats over the pain creeping through her bones.

Korra cocks her head a bit and watches the waves crash against the shore below. "We always dream about where we want to go, but when we get there, we dream about where we came from..."

Tenzin doesn't speak for a moment, and he looks at her in a way differently than before, as if he's finally come to realize she is not the brash teenager he'd taken under his robe and roof; he smiles bittersweetly, and nods to her in agreement. He knows the kind of mourning she's going through right now – he's been down that road before. "Like the cycle of the seasons." he adds, and then looks down to share her view.

Like the cycle of the seasons, she repeats in her head. But, what if she's the only one that keeps coming back... ?

Eventually, the sun shares its last rays just above the horizon and on the other side of the sky, the stars begin to faintly peak through the darkening canvas.

"Doesn't anybody ever stay, anymore?"

She means this in more ways than one, and the question hangs heavy over both of their heads. Tenzin places a hand on her shoulder as they stare up at the shifting sky, but he doesn't answer her.

He never answers.