The hit list

Safe with me

"Hello Mr. Sato, what's up?"

"Korra?" Asami's voice was so weak that it broke Korra's heart. "Y-you can't be here–"

"You know her?" Hiroshi growled, tightening his grip on her wrist and making Asami release a pained whimper.

Korra saw red.

"Let go of her!" She threatened. "Or I swear to god I'm sending this picture to the police right now. And just so you know, it's a pretty clear shot of your face."

Hiroshi looked at Korra again his lips pursed together and his eyebrows up in a surprised and shocked expression. Korra took a step forward to break Asami loose from his grip by force, but a moment later he finally let Asami go. Her knees gave out and she collapsed onto them, her free hand immediately going to her very red wrist, rubbing it.

Hiroshi inhaled deeply, his fists clenched together and shaking. Then, his grip loosened, and he opened his amber eyes with a much calmer expression.

"Korra, right?" He asked softly, a tone that really freaked the girl out deeply. "Listen, I think that this is all just a big misunderstanding, it's not at all what it looks like."

Is he serious? "Really?" Korra asked dryly, not buying it. "So what did happen here?"

"You see, I was just helping Asami with her self defense technique," he answered with a blood-boiling innocent smile, "it could be a dangerous place for young women out there like I'm sure you're aware of, given your..." He gestured towards her with a vague hand gesture. "...Physique."

Oh, you mean the physique that is going to break your face? "Right," she said sarcastically, "does that training includes calling her a slut? I'm just confused as to how that helps her with self defense technique." She said behind grit teeth.

"Oh, you know, men could be very mean," excused Hiroshi, "you don't want her to be too sensitive."

"It's funny, because she wasn't even trying to defend herself when I came in," mused Korra, "in fact, she was begging for you to stop."

Hiroshi shifted uncomfortably. "Well..."

"If you can't tell," said Korra sternly, "I'm not buying it."

Finally, Hiroshi's expression hardened, his eyebrows knitting together in a scowl. Then, he started walking towards Korra, a murderous glare on his face.

"I'll smash that phone of yours and then we'll see who's laughing." He grumbled, clicking his knuckles

"It's a Sato-Phone." She immediately blurted out, making him stop dead in his tracks. "It back-ups every photo I take. You should know, you invented it."

Bingo.

"What do you want?" He grit his teeth, aware that he is losing this but unwilling to give up.

"Asami." She ignored him, peering over his shoulder and trying to contain her emotions as the girl raised her head to look at Korra, terrified. "We're going upstairs to pack you a bag, okay sweetheart?"

Both Asami's and Hiroshi's eyes widened, her reaction being a bit more surprised and his being more furious.

"W-what?" She mumbled weakly. "Korra I don't–"

The tan girl brushed past the defeated Hiroshi and kneeled down next to Asami to help her get up. "We'll talk upstairs okay?" She said in a soothing voice as she pulled Asami into a standing position.