Chapter Text
Tonraq holds Korra close as the group starts walking back toward the main building. Bu Po trails behind, glancing worriedly at Nanami every few steps.
Iroh, silent, stays beside Nanami. His brows are furrowed, his mouth tight. He says nothing, but his grip on her wrist is firm — not rough, not commanding, just… steady. Like he’s afraid she might vanish if he lets go.
Nanami doesn’t pull away.
They walk behind the others, their steps quiet over the snow. When they reach the outer walls of the outpost, Iroh slows down. He gives a subtle nod toward one of the side storage buildings.
Nanami understands.
They slip away from the group without a word.
Once they’re behind the building, shielded from sight and wind, Iroh finally turns to her. His eyes search hers with quiet intensity, amber meeting amber.
“So,” he starts, his voice low, “what happened?”
Nanami exhales. “We were attacked. By the Triple Threats.”
His brows knit. “The Triple Threats? Here?”
She nods. “One of them followed me. It wasn’t about Korra.”
“Why?” His voice tightens. “How did they know you were here?”
“I don’t know,” she replies, honestly. “I’ve been careful. I thought I was invisible.”
He watches her in silence for a moment, then asks the question that’s been burning inside him since the moment she rose from the snow.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were a firebender?”
Nanami pauses, a flicker of guilt crossing her face — or maybe just hesitation.
“I don’t know… I guess I didn’t think I had to.”
“You didn’t think you had to?” His voice rises slightly. “You were on my ship. In my care. You—” He stops, shakes his head. “Do you realize how much I was worried about you?”
Nanami’s eyes widen slightly. Not at his words — but at the weight behind them.
Then, with a sly tilt of her head, she masks the emotion. Her lips curl into a familiar smirk. “Oh? So you were worried about me, General?”
Iroh’s composure slips. “No—I mean—I was worried about all of you. Bu Po. Korra. And maybe… you too.”
Nanami raises a smug eyebrow. “Maybe?”
He glares at her, jaw tense. She smiles wider.
“I’m flattered,” she says, folding her arms behind her back with exaggerated innocence.
Iroh sighs and rubs his temples. “You’re impossible.”
“But charming,” she adds.
He shoots her a look, but there’s no real anger in it — just exasperation laced with something softer.
Iroh puts a hand on his face and grumbles, “I’ll have to write a report about this incident.”
Nanami opens her mouth to tease him again, but is interrupted by the smooth, composed voice of Captain Ji Ji.
“General Iroh, the troops are waiting for you for the debriefing meeting.”
His eyes then shift to Nanami.
“Oh, Miss Nanami. You’re here too. Were you able to enjoy the snow a bit longer?” he teases lightly. But the playful glint in his eyes fades when he notices the bruises scattered along her arms and jaw.
“You’re injured. Are you alright? Let me take you to the infirmary.”
He steps forward and extends a hand toward her arm — but before he can make contact, Iroh smoothly steps between them.
“I’ll take her,” he says firmly, his voice calm but brooking no argument. “Go back to camp and inform the others to prepare for the meeting. I’ll join shortly.”
Ji Ji pauses for a beat, a smirk curling at his lips at Iroh’s unconscious display of protectiveness. Patting the General on the shoulder, he says with deliberate amusement, “Yes, General. Please take good care of the lady.”
Then, turning to Nanami, he bows politely. “Miss Nanami. I’ll take my leave.”
Nanami bows back, and watches him as he walks away, his silhouette shrinking steadily against the pale, white landscape.
“Let’s go,” Iroh says curtly, grabbing Nanami’s arm — a bit too firmly.
She flinches when his hand brushes against a bruise. “I’m not a prisoner. Why are you pulling me like that?” she snaps, clearly irritated by his commanding tone. She knows he’s a general — she respects that when others are around. But when it’s just the two of them, she hates when he switches into officer mode.
“Well, technically, you are a fugitive,” he shoots back with a smug grin, clearly enjoying the rare chance to tease her for once.
But Nanami’s pride doesn’t leave much room for his jokes. She pulls her arm free with a scowl. “Then go back to your oh-so-important meeting, General. I can find the infirmary myself.”
Iroh’s jaw tightens at her tone. So she can tease, but he can’t? Fine.
“Suit yourself,” he mutters, not even looking at her as he turns and walks off through the snow toward the encampment.
And just like that, she’s alone again.
Nanami scans her surroundings quickly.
Great. She doesn’t even know where she is.
How is she supposed to find the infirmary now?
A heavy sigh escapes her lips as she kneels down in the snow, frustration prickling at the edges of her thoughts. Iroh left. Just like that. He actually left her.
She knows she snapped first, but… usually, he gives in. Usually, he stays.
But not this time.
Did she go too far?
She stays there for a while, squatting in the snow, her fingers absently brushing through the cold white fluff as her thoughts spiral. The chill seeps through her pants, but she barely feels it. She’s too busy rewinding the last few minutes in her head, wondering what exactly tipped the balance.
Wondering why it stings so much.
After a few minutes, Nanami finally stands and heads toward the cliffs.
She needs some fresh air—something to clear this frustrating feeling gnawing at her chest.
She walks slowly along the escarpment, her boots crunching against the snow, the cold wind brushing her cheeks. Her mind spins.
The injuries are minor. She doesn’t need the infirmary. Why did he insist so much, anyway?
Oh… right. It was Captain Ji Ji’s idea.
She replays the captain’s smooth voice in her head. There’s something undeniably charming about him—polite, gentle, always smiling at her.
Unlike that prickly, pigheaded general. Always lecturing. Always commanding.
Her jaw tightens, and she kicks a small rock off the cliff, watching it tumble down until it vanishes into the sea spray.
Nanami leans over the edge, eyes fixed on the restless ocean crashing below. The waves slam against the rocks, over and over again. And slowly, their rhythm soothes her.
She exhales. Then turns, and resumes walking.
Time slips by. Without noticing it, she’s walked for hours. The sky has shifted—from soft blue to warm pink. The sun begins its descent into the horizon.
She finally looks around.
The encampment is gone.
No tents. No voices. No footprints but her own.
Great. Lost again. Alone again.
A bitter thought creeps into her mind.
Maybe… it would be easier if she just left.
No more whispers from the female soldiers.
No more scolding from the general.
No more danger for the crew because of her.
Bu Po would miss her. Maybe Kyra too—even if she’d never say it. Ziki? He’d notice, only because Kyra would.
But eventually, they’d all move on. They’d forget her.
Maybe she could start over.
No one would look for her here, buried in this frozen corner of the world. Shin probably told the Triad she was dead. That would keep them off her trail.
She walks a bit more, drowning in the silence.
The cold nips at her skin, but she hardly notices it. Her mind is too loud.
Then—
A voice cuts through the wind.
She stops.
Turns.
And her heart jolts.
There he is. Standing tall in the snow.
His amber eyes locked onto hers, bright even in the fading light.
Iroh came.
He came for her.
Warmth blooms in her chest, rising too fast. Her eyes sting. She blinks the tears away.
“What are you doing out here?” he says, frowning. “You were supposed to go to the infirmary.”
There it is—his usual tone.
Lecturing her again.
“It’s already dark. You didn’t even notice the time, did you?”
She doesn’t respond.
He sighs and steps forward. But this time, when he reaches for her hand, he takes it gently.
“Let’s go back.”
He doesn’t let go.
And Nanami lets him guide her through the snow.
Because no matter how much he scolds, no matter how often they clash—
He’s the only one who always comes back for her.