Thank you to karanathefirebender, NotANerd133, and Akela Victoire for your reviews, and Estrella4101 for your follows and favorites. I appreciate it.

My attorney has advised me to include a disclaimer with this chapter. I am not responsible for any injuries that may occur to you if you're not sitting down.

The Other Side of Me by boasamishipper

Epilogue

Three Weeks Previously

Irony's really a bitch sometimes. So's the law of gravity, the curly-haired teenager thought self-deprecatingly. One second you're on top of the world, the next second someone's firing a heater at you and you're toppling to the ground at a million miles per hour. Her fall had knocked the breath out of her lungs and she felt like her entire body had been repeatedly whacked by a psycho with a baseball bat. Spirits, I am going to fucking kill somebody. Preferably Korra. Preferably now.

"Midori?" Asami's voice was panicked from the other side of the fence. Spirits, she wished that she could see through the wall so that she could flip Korra off. "Midori, answer me!"

Midori coughed and managed to call back, albeit in a slightly weaker voice, "Tell Mako, that if we get out of here, I'm going to kill his wife!"

She could just picture both Mako and Korra flushing enough to rival a volcanic hot spring while Asami laughed. "Hang on," her sister called. "We'll get you out of there, right?" Midori could see Asami standing on the top of the earthen staircase that Korra had created, and picked herself off the ground. She walked backwards, trying to see Asami better, and then stopped in her tracks once she got a clear view of her older sister.

"Midori, what're you doing? Come on, you have to move!"

She wants Korra to try again? Really? Considering Korra's track record with airbending people over at this point, I think I'm going to take my chances with not going over the fence that way, Midori thought, looking around. If she squinted, it appeared that there was another gate toward the fence about twenty or so yards away. If I sprint, I can make it there faster. I'll scream until they let me in, it'll have to work, won't it?

And besides, it'll let Bolin and the others get to safety. If they catch me, it's all for the greater good, isn't it?

"I'm going to go around!" Midori shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth. "We don't have time to airbend me over, 'Sami, it'll be faster if I just run and meet you on the other side of the fence. I'll be there, I promise!"

After about five seconds of intense scrutiny, Asami nodded. "Hurry!" she yelled. "Midori, hurry."

"I will," Midori promised, taking off at a run towards the gate twenty or so yards away. She knew that the Triads were approaching—she knew that the chances were against her making it in time. I'm sure as fuck going to try anyways, though.

Panting heavily and clutching a stitch in her side, Midori made it to where the gate was and tugged on the door handle, preparing to open it and run to her sister and the others as fast as she could. The more time she wasted, the less time Bolin had to lose.

The door didn't open.

Midori's heartbeat went into hyper drive, and blood thundered in her ears. "Oh my Spirits," she muttered. Of course there isn't another entrance, how could I be so stupid? "Damnit!"

"MIDORI!" Asami screamed, sounding farther away than ever as the group of Triple Threat Triad Initiates caught up with her, all looking like a pack of hunters that had cornered a deer-gazelle and were going to take it apart bit by bit.

"Hang on!" Midori called back, trying desperately to think of a way out. A bead of sweat formed over her upper lip as seven of the men pulled out heaters and pointed them all directly at her chest. "Oh, shit." Her voice was loud enough that Asami could've easily heard her from the other side of the fence. Midori's heartbeat quickened again, and she backed up against the metal wall, her hands held out in a gesture of surrender.

One of the Triple Threat Triads sneered at her, and, without a heartbeat of hesitation, pulled the trigger of the heater that he was holding, and the next thing that she knew, an intense pain radiated through her left shoulder, encompassing every nook and cranny of her body. Something sticky and hot and wet and bright red trickled down her shirt sleeve, and she barely had time to recover before two more men fired their heaters, and a strangled screech erupted from her mouth.

Her mind was overwhelmed with agony, and her vision blurred as she noticed a man approach her, a wide smirk on his face. What felt like thousands of miles away, she could hear Asami screaming bloody murder, but couldn't find the strength to respond to her older sister's cries.

Oh, Spirits…it…it hurts…

The man whacked her over the head with his pistol, the same one that he'd used to shoot her in the shoulder, and she slumped against the fence, the world darkening around her like someone had snapped a camera lens over her vision.

And then there was nothing at all.

(*) (*)

Present Day

A symphony of sledgehammers pounded inside of her head in perfect rhythm with the throbbing pain of her body as she returned to consciousness, feeling as though she'd been asleep for a thousand years. Maybe even more than that.

What happened? Midori wondered groggily. Did I pull an all-nighter or something? Spirits, all-nighters never hurt this much. Am I recovering from surgery, maybe?

Squinting around the room she was in (Spirits, even that hurt), she wrinkled her nose at the antiseptic stench mixed with the smallest hint of flowers. She gagged, her stomach doing several backflips and she barely swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Her throat felt like sandpaper, and her lips were bone dry, like the Si Wong Desert.

I need water, Midori thought, making to move before finding herself stuck. She strained to look down and found herself chained to a filthy mattress that reeked of sweat. Possibly her own. Spirits. She looked down and almost threw up when she realized she wasn't wearing anything but a bra and underwear. A cloth bandage stretched over her left shoulder, her knee was wrapped in a cast, and a lumpy scar stretched from one side of her stomach to the other.

Midori took a deep breath as her heart rate took off. It's okay. This is obviously a dream. Any minute now I'll wake up in my own bed, and everything's going to be okay. No matter how many times she opened and closed her eyes, her surroundings did not change.

What is going on? she thought in terror, thrashing heavily on the mattress. "Hello?" she called, her voice cracking with disuse. "Is…is anyone there?"

Okay, she commanded herself. Calm down. Be calm. It's alright, you just need to breathe. She could practically hear her surrogate sister reassuring her, her voice smooth and kind. Think. Her mind focused on the facts: facts always calmed her down when she was afraid, kind of like her own anchor in the middle of a hurricane.

Fact: I am trapped in this room.

Fact: This room has no windows, air vents, or any way for me to escape it.

She paused. Wait. Where was the door? She looked around, her panic growing then finally dissipating just a bit as she located the door in the corner of the room.

Fact: There is a door in this room, so I can get out.

Fact: I can only get out if I can free myself from this bed.

She thrashed even harder, making absolutely no progress whatsoever. Damn. I knew I should've taken those self-defense lessons that 'Sami suggested seriously, she cursed herself. "That would definitely come in handy," Midori said, listening to her voice echo around the small room—prison, she corrected herself.

Fact: I don't know what to do.

"Hello?" she called again, not expecting a response. "Is anyone here? Please, let me out of here, please, can anyone hear me?"

Suddenly, the door slammed open.

Reflexively, Midori flinched and shot up, only to fall back onto the mattress painfully. "Damn it," she swore, not caring if anyone heard her.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair streaked with gray leaned against the doorframe. He leered at Midori, showing stained and broken teeth. "Hello," he greeted her, strolling closer to her and sitting on the side of her bed. "I see you're awake, then."

"Get away from me, you putz," she growled at him.

He leaned closer to her, rubbing his thumb over the taut planes of her face. Midori spat at him, her eyes narrowing. No one touched her. Not freaking ever. That wasn't how she rolled. Not even on the streets. Some other girls had sold themselves into prostitution, but Midori never, ever did. She wasn't stupid enough to know what would've come from an encounter like this: an STD, AIDS, or becoming pregnant wasn't something Midori wanted to have now, nor ever.

With the precision of a surgeon, the man wiped her spit off his face before backhanding Midori across her own face. Midori fought to not scream in pain or cry as her left cheek throbbed painfully and she bit her lip, trying not to saying anything.

"I won't be as forgiving next time, my dear," he promised, glaring down at her. Beads of sweat formed on Midori's forehead, but she didn't flinch. "You are mine."

"I don't belong to anybody," she enunciated clearly, as if her captor was hard of hearing. She raised an eyebrow, trying to hide how scared she was. "'Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowlers: The snare is broken, and we are escaped.'"

"Where'd you hear that, darling?" asked her captor, running a hand through her curly hair, fingers brushing the back of her neck and sending uneasy tingles down her spine. Midori wanted to crawl into a hole and die, but held her ground.

"I read it in a book, darling," she taunted. "You know? A book? Things people read for entertainment?" She shook her head mockingly. "Can you even read, you ignorant fuck?"

Midori felt so nauseous, it was likely that she was going to vomit all over this man at any given moment. Her captor leaned over her with a frightening smile. Oh, Spirits, I want to go home…please, let me wake up with Bo and 'Sami…please someone, anyone, help me…

"My, what a temper you have," he said to her with a whole new tone of voice that scared her even more than the previous one he'd donned. "The feisty ones are always more fun…"

He pushed the young teenager against the bed easily as she tried to rise, smoothing his calloused hand over her cheek as his other hand began to roam its way down to her lace underwear.

"I've gone without this for so long…the least you can do for me, darling, is to make it up for the trouble you've caused me," he said gently, putting a finger to her lips, which Midori bit.

"Don't. Touch. Me," she growled, making direct eye contact to let him know that she was dead serious. Her captor laughed, and her insides felt like they were strapped to a booster rocket.

"Oh, darling, there's no sense in playing hard to get," he whispered in her ear. The smell of his breath was horrifying: like cigarettes and tobacco and like a badgermole had crawled into his mouth and died. "I always get what I want, whether you like it or not."

"Fuck you," she suggested.

"With pleasure," he replied, and he leveled the full force of his weight against the young teenager, who started to shake. No. this wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening…please, Spirits, anyone help me, please… His hands roamed over her body, and she began to thrash, desperately trying to stop what was happening as he pulled her underwear down to her ankles and tossed his pants to the side.

"Get off of me," she shouted, and his lips intentionally covered hers in an effort to get her to stop talking. She felt his tongue poke at her lips, and she bit down as hard as she could, gagging at the coppery substance that filled her mouth.

"You're mine," he whispered to her, his hands stroking her. She wanted to die right then and there. "The more you fight, the longer this will take, darling."

Despite her fear, she continued to try and claw her way out from under her captor's heavy body. He smacked her across the face and then, while she gasped for breath, he kissed her again, relishing in her anguish and fear.

"Shh…" he murmured as he straddled her, and a steady stream of tears made their way down Midori's face. "Shh…it's alright now, it's alright," he crooned.

He thrust against the young teenager with all of his strength, enjoying this more than was humanly possible. Oh, the fear on her face was beautiful: he licked his lips thinking about it. She was going to be his and only his.

Midori, on the other hand, sobbed uncontrollably through the pain as his dirty hand encountered her breast and squeezed it hard. Why? Why me? What did I ever, ever do to deserve this? I want Asami and Bolin…please, guys, please, you have to help me…

The teenager wasn't sure how much time had passed until her captor had finally gotten off of her, putting his pants back on. She felt dirty and disgusting, like a bag of three day old garbage.

She felt unloved.

He stole my virginity.

Spirits. That son of a bitch…he—he stole my—he ruined me.

I'm…I'm broken…

"Hot damn," her captor purred, pulling his torn shirt over his head. "No one's made me feel like that in years…wonderful, just wonderful. It's going to be great having you here, Nuli."

Wait. What did he just call me? "My name is Midori Sato," she said evenly. "Not Nuli."

"Uh, uh, uh." He clucked his tongue patronizingly. "You may have been Midori once. That was before. Now, you are mine, and I will call you Nuli. It means 'my slave' in the old language. Fitting, isn't it?"

"You motherless, short-eared zozzled bastard," she growled through gritted teeth, tears still trickling down her face. He deserved to burn alive and then be fed to a pack of wild boar-q-pines. "Go and screw yourself with something pointy!"

Swifter than lightning, his left hand found her windpipe, and cut off her air supply. Shocked, Midori's body seized up under the pain, unable to breathe at all. Don't panic, Midori, don't panic, don't panic. He'll let go of you and it'll be okay…oh Spirits, but what if he doesn't? I need air!

"You don't want to mess with me, Nuli," he snarled. "If you cross me—if you put one fucking toe out of line around me—you'll wish you had never been born."

I already do, she thought sadly. Oh, Spirits, I want to go home…Spirits, please, someone, anyone help me…I can't do this…please…

"Are we clear?"

He released her throat as she gave him a small nod, and he backed away.

She swore like a sailor at him through her heavy breaths. "My friends will find me," she said, trying to instill a tad of fear into her captor and a semblance of hope into the prospect of her imprisonment.

To her surprise, her captor simply laughed, like she was a pet that had performed an amusing trick. "Your so-called friends, Nuli, think that you're dead. I don't think they'll be coming for you anytime soon."

Fucking Spirits. Midori realized that he was right. Her memory almost exploded, remembering the failed execution, running towards the gate, the guns and the Triads, Asami screaming…Oh, my Spirits. I'm trapped here. Oh, my Spirits. "W-why are you doing this?" she asked weakly.

He grinned. "There's absolutely no way to have Bolin and the Avatar be more hurt than to kidnap you and let them think that their actions led to your demise. Trust me; once I bring them down and tell them how I used you, it's going to just kill them."

"Please, don't hurt them," she begged. "Please, please…don't hurt them…" She knew her pleas were in vain even as she continued to beg with the man in front of her. "You—you can't hurt them…"

"Don't be stupid, Nuli, of course I'm going to hurt them," he answered. "This is my last opportunity to do so."

As he exited the room, leaving his new girl alone and crying, he couldn't help but think that his plan was working unbelievably well this time. This girl, Midori or whatever her name was, would be the perfect element to his plan of revenge.

He was going to take over Republic City, dismantling the remainders of the Agni Kais and Red Monsoons person by person until those fucking fuckers were fucking dead. The Triple Threat Triads would rule the capital of the Four Nations with an iron fist, and no one would be safe from their wrath. Not the Avatar, not Bolin, not Mako, not Asami Sato, not anyone. He was going to make the Avatar pay for not giving him and his men their bending back.

Lightning Bolt Zolt shuddered at the very thought of that traitorous, sanctimonious bitch of a Section Leader and the way she'd stabbed him in the back. What had he been thinking, arranging a deal with the Agni Kais? He'd barely survived their partnership with his life. Thank the Spirits one of Gainika's top dogs was a doctor: he was definitely going to keep Yamakiro, not to mention his little bitch Su-Bin, on with him.

That punk Bolin may have seen the last of the Triple Threat Triads and the Agni Kais working together, that's for damn sure. But he hasn't seen the last of me.

Yes, my dear readers, I did indeed just go there. *shakes head* Just goes to show you that nothing is certain unless you actually see the nail go into the coffin. So nope: Midori and Lightning Bolt Zolt are both still alive.

There is a sequel in the works, don't get me wrong, but if you guys would like to read it, I need exactly ninety reviews on this fic. That's my final offer, so take it or leave it, guys. ;) The working title is going to be Battle Scars and Broken Stars, so keep an eye out for information about that on my Fanfiction profile.

I've also created a Facebook page dedicated to this story—just look up The TOSOM 'verse on Facebook and my page should come up. Information about my fics, my canon, and my OCs will all be posted there, so check that out if you can.

I'd like to thank all of you once more for your support for this fic. Words cannot express how much I appreciate each and every one of you. Special thanks to everyone from the Underground who reviewed this fic during the Holiday Review Session last year: namely Akela Victoire, Dzuljeta and Violescent. Thank you so much for the twenty reviews that you guys left me—and for the heart attacks I got looking into my inbox during the holidays, LOL. :) We'll always have the Madhouse!

Until next time, my friends, live in fear of Battle Scars and Broken Stars.

This has been boasamishipper, signing out.