Why did war take away so much?

Tenzin held tightly to the girl against him; the pain throbbing against his limbs was nowhere in comparison to the pain it gave him to hold his own pupil in his arms. He had been the only one there to catch Korra when she drifted, barely conscious, from the sky. He gazed down at her solemnly. 'This poor, poor girl . .' She was only a teenager—yet suffered the responsibilities and burdens of much more than an adult, she carried the weight of the entire world. His aching knees shifted under her as he knelt further into the dirt. The life of Republic City was left barren, dry—only blood of the fallen left moisture upon the ground. Burnt rubble scattered into the distance as far as the eye could see. Buildings, all destroyed, towering the streets haphazardly; bridges, collapsed. Looking around at the damage, it suddenly seemed unfair to have this twisted fate thrust onto the girl. Unfair that she would have to die so other's could live, so her legacy could be reborn. But it was a duty—everyone was born with one, and despite the consequences, she had done her's well.

"Korra," the monk spoke with a gentle firmness, trembling fingers digging into the wrinkles of her clothes.

He told himself he wouldn't cry.

Not here. Not now.

The sky above was stripped of its usual blue, replaced instead with a lifeless grey. There were no clouds, no sun, no moon—just an open, empty void stretching across the earth. Not even the rain wanted to fall, not even time seemed to exist. All was still. It was only minutes after she returned from the Avatar state, and she had yet to say a word, had yet to show that there was still some fight left in her. Though breath entered and left her lungs, it was growing scarce, but Tenzin knew life still dwelled within her. That she was still with him, despite how quickly that could change.

"Korra," the man repeated, this time with apparent worry, "Korra, can you hear me?"

Korra craned her head, just barely, to face the familiar voice. She cracked open her eyelids to peer through shaky slits, seeing only a shadowed figure against the paling sky. At first, everything was murky, muffled, and a sharp pain—comparable to a thousand needles pricking under her skull, but she couldn't voice it. She parted her mouth, but nothing came forth. Tenzin looked down at her in silence for a moment, hoping and praying that something—anything would come from her. An insight to how she was feeling, or what she was experiencing. His own brows came together in a concerned frown, eyes glossing at the sight in front of him. Why was this happening?

"Stay with us," he pleaded softly, one palm brushing the tangled locks from her face. Her skin was cold and dull. It was almost hard to believe that this was his Korra, fading away from him.

A day he never wanted to witness in his lifetime.

The man's fingers curled further into her shirt, as if this could keep her here longer. In a minutes passing, Korra opened her eyes—wider this time, allowing the doubles to mesh into one before the image of her Master adjusted more clearly. She swallowed in pain, a tear running down her cheek, cutting away through a smudge of ash.

The war ended with too many losses to count. The regret of those losses, pressed down against her chest, and she let out a broken sob. What was done, was done - it did no good to dwell on the past, especially when she had no energy to. But even in the midst of her tears, she grimaced a smile. The brave only died once. Korra exhaled heavily, reaching to grip at the tattered sleeve of his arm. She wanted to pull herself up, to stand tall, to witness and face everything that resulted—but she was so weak, so exhausted, so tired. A hero did not belong on the ground, but did a hero deserve death?

Life granted no favors.

Tenzin watched helplessly of Korra's internal struggles, too concerned in the moment to do anything else. An outcome like this was something he wanted to avoid, the war was something he wanted to solve peacefully . . But to have hundreds dead, by the end of this 'revolution'—was that what anyone had wanted? Even the lifeless Amon, just yards away, gave him no feeling of satisfaction that should have come with resolve. The aging man shook his head.

He never wanted this.

Korra probably didn't want this either, but even in the beginning, what choices was she left with? Even when she first arrived in Republic City, she found herself having to fight for herself, for others. A small smile of nostalgia softened the man's features at the memory. A hotheaded, stubborn young girl, standing up to and fighting criminals on the very first day. Such a strong spirit, the heart of a warrior, and determination admirable to any who could witness . .

'A true Avatar', he thought. Aang would be proud—

And like a crashing wave, all at once, it hit him.

The girl dying in his arms.. was his Father. How many times did he make himself see Aang in her place? How many times did he look into her eyes, searching for a glimpse of the child-like bliss of a humble Avatar and his penguin sledding? Tenzin could recall years ago, after his fathers passing, upon first hearing word of the next avatar; joy and pain overwhelmed him. He knew he would meet his father once more, that he managed to live on andbe able to meet again, to see the invincible phoenix rise from the ashes and soar for a second time. To experience first hand, the hope Aang radiated, breathe new life in the form of a precious, baby girl. In that moment long ago, he was proud, and in this moment, he was prouder. But reality would've brought him to his knees, had he not already been there.

How would he bring himself to say goodbye a second time.. ?

A drop fell against Korra's face, and in the moment, he assumed he finally lost control of his emotions, but the thick clouds overhead, told him otherwise. The rain started falling gradually, and then mercilessly, drowning the dryness the city once held, washing the debris from her face. She blinked in between the droplets splashing against her.

It was funny how simple a person's thoughts could be when closure was so close. She could barely recall the events that led to this moment, but she didn't bother try. The thoughts would carry themselves. She wondered where Mako and Bolin were, if they were safe; she wondered if Naga was alright, she wondered how Pema and the air kids were holding up at the evacuation warehouses . . Were the other spirits of her past lives watching over her now, in this time of parting, waiting to embrace her with open arms? More importantly, were they proud? Another round of tears streamed from her eyes, but she was thankful the rain disguised them. Even now, she felt embarrassed to cry in front of Tenzin, to show negative emotions, considering her duties were complete. She didn't want this to be the last memory they shared, even if they were bent in the mud like this. That part was out of her control, the least she could do was hide the pain.

'It won't hurt soon . .'

Tenzin cradled his palm against the back of her head, lifting her up just enough so the rain could drip from her face. His shoulders slouched forward, his body curled in closer to Korra, and he gave a weary sigh. When they were close enough, she tried to speak.

"Yes, Korra?" He probed eagerly, straining his ears to hear what she had to say. All this time, Tenzin was so, so patient. And only now did she see that.. only now did she appreciate in full capacity what she had. But didn't everyone when they were dying?

"..I'm sorry this had to happen."

The words hit Tenzin hard, and finally, the tears fell from his eyes. They fell so fast, it became hard to see. The words he wanted to soothe her with only came out as a winded sob, and only when he pulled her fragile body against his, was he able to muffle it. Her head lolled into the crook of his shoulder with ease, body slumping against the embrace. Her arm, still weakly, held on faithfully the sleeve of his robe. He hugged her and she gripped tighter. Tenzin closed his eyes, but the tears didn't stop; the memories of his past resurfaced in his mind. In the darkness behind his lids, he saw his Father. Flashbacks of events making him relive buried emotions. He watched as Aang pulled a much younger Tenzin into a secure embrace. Protection . . Love."Father.." he mumbled beneath his mustache, the lines in his face weighing down. He imitated that embrace against Korra.

"Don't go."

Never in his entire life could he remember expressing such a selfish wish. Tenzin was always the man to accept right and forgive wrong, to wait patiently for appropriate times, to accept things as they came, to come to peace with the unpleasant—but the idea of losing a form of his Father was hard to cope. After the passing of this, he'd never know if there would be another chance to train the next Avatar—he'd never know if the next Avatar would even come before his time was up. For the rest of his days, he would silently wait; hoping—yearning, for that small ray of hope to return. The continuous rain strained against his back while he blocked it from pouring on the girl. His face pressed deeper into the soggy hair, her strands of brunette clinging around his sunken features. He could feel himself growing numb. He didn't feel the rain anymore, even as it echoed off the ground in a collaborative 'shhh'. He re-opened his eyes only to find that they had grown heavy. "It's okay," he whispered, giving a reassuring squeeze before pulling away to look at her face; her head hung forward without sufficient support. Another tug of his heart. The fact that she couldn't hold her head high when she very much deserved it, was painful, but he did not judge, only lay her down again in his arms.

Korra settled into the cradle with ease, letting her muscles relax. Even in the pouring rain, with cuts and bruises across her body, she felt safe. In Tenzin's arms she knew that everything would be okay from this point on. But the girl looked up at him and recognized a familiar emotion. One he personally helped her to overcome - Fear. It lingered in his eyes as much as the sadness and pain, but fear stood out the most to her. It felt like a sorrow to see it now. "Tenzin.." she began, the tears no longer falling from her face,"'Admitting and facing your fears is the first, and most difficult step in overcoming them,' - a lesson you always taught me.." She could feel the emotion creeping around her voice. It was sad to think back on the more blissful times, the days they would never get back. "You will overcome this," she assured him, and narrowed her eyes confidently.

For a moment, he did not know what to say.

'The greatest moment a Master experiences, is when his student surpasses him . .'

Korra was absolutely right—he was afraid. Afraid of losing his Father again, afraid of saying goodbye . . But these were only cover-ups for the immediate loss he felt, the immediate infliction that damaged him. Most importantly, he was saying goodbye to.. a daughter. "You're right, Korra," The thought of returning to his family without the girl would be a difficult task. To tell Meelo and Ikki and Jinora—even his wife, that Korra was gone—would be hard. Even now, it seemed unbearable. But he owed that much to her. Her name would not go in vain, her story would not go untold. She had fought bravely, and won.

"I will."

'But I know first hand that time does not heal all wounds . .'

"You better."

He almost smiled.

A hand lifted to brush the hair from her forehead, his thumb moving to graze along her cheek. His dear, dear child…

Letting go was so hard.

Tenzin leaned forward and brushed his lips tenderly against her forehead.

The rain started to let up.

"Tenzin, I can't thank you enough for everything.."

This was the part he dreaded the most—thank you's always came before the parting. He swallowed, tilting his head endearingly at her. Tears stung at his eyes, but she smiled up at him. If these were his final moments to speak to her, he would make them worthwhile.

"I'm so proud of you, Korra," his voice shook, but the heart in his words were there.

"So proud."

Her immediate reaction was a grin. It lasted for a fleeting moment and turned back into a smile. She released his sleeve slowly, to reach for his hand. He gripped between her fingers and let them rest in her lap, giving them a comforting squeeze. His words sent a relief through her body, a content sigh escaping her lips. She would never forget them.

"I'm tired.."

The hold she had on his hand was slipping. Though he could feel it, he remained strong. For her. "Shhh, you need rest," he stroked the side of her face and smiled weakly. She leaned her cheek into his palm, averting her gaze to his robes. It was easier to pretend that Korra would wake up again.

"You know I'll just keep coming back." There was a smirk.

"I know." Tenzin was on the verge of tears, again.

"You better."

Her breathing gradually slowed, and she listened to it calmly, thinking back on favorite memories; the ones that made her happy, the ones that made her strong, the ones she shared with people she loved. For every one of them, she was thankful.

Tenzin started to hum a relaxing tune.

'Thank you . . '

Life was so beautiful, regardless of the destiny laid out for her, and from the glimpse of the life awaiting her, that was beautiful, too. The humming made the transition easier. She could feel the vibration of the noise against his chest.

'Thank you, so much . .'

Korra looked up at him with her pair of vibrant blue one last time, and then closed her eyes.

He never did say goodbye.