Title: the colors in between
Rating: K, may be upgraded to T
Summary: In Korra's world, everything is black and white. Except him. KorraTahno.
A/N: Collaboration with a close friend of mine! Hope you guys enjoy! Please review if you want more.

His hair is stupid, and she wants to tell him so the first time she encounters him after the tournament - in the middle of a street, for Tui's sake, as people scurry by and glance over their shoulders, and only ever pause to murmur about Amon and his Equalists. The collective apprehension in Republic City seeps into Korra's skin, down to her very bones, and even if she can admit to being afraid, she still doesn't like it. So instead Korra chooses to focus on how Tahno is a dirty rotten cheater and the Fire Ferrets deserved to win; the entire arena knew that, but just as her eyes narrow and her lips part to tell him just where he can shove his huge ego, Mako elbows her in the ribcage and looks at her pointedly.

Oh, right, Korra recalls, and that horrid nervous feeling creeps inside her regardless. The hollows under Tahno's eyes are deeper, now, his smirk no longer smug; the sharp cock of his hips has ebbed into a tentative slump.

"Hey, pretty boy," Korra says, a sneer across her lips, before she realizes that's probably not appropriate given Tahno's...situation.

Tahno's lower lip twists as if he's about to say something nasty, but he seems to think better of it. His eyes drop to the scuffed stone street, and he mutters, "Hello, Avatar." He eyes the brothers beside her. "...And friends."

Mako nods. "Tahno." His voice is wary, and in her periphery, Korra notes his clenched fists, as if nothing has changed since the final tournament; as if they're still poised on the balls of their feet, launching discs across an arena swirling with fire and steam. As if it's just another game of strategy, where the Wolfbats lurk across the ring.

At least Mako attempts to conceal his trepidation. Bolin just looks terrified. But it's not like Korra knows what to say, and Bolin is far less dense than he seems, so she shoots him a pleading glance, and with an imperceptible nod, Bolin steps in.

"Hey, there, fellow pro-bender!" He chuckles nervously. "How ya doin'? Good? We were worried about you! After, you know. After that thing. That happened. That was pretty bad, wasn't it?"

If nothing else (and frankly, it isn't anything else) it is a valiant attempt to save the situation. Mako, however, does not generally appreciate the value of attempts to do anything, and so appears ready to smack Bolin across the mouth. Though Korra half expects Tahno to lunge for Bolin's throat and choke him, he only glares and slides his hands into his pockets with a disdainful sniff. A wisp of disheveled curls tumbles pitifully over his eyes.

After a few seconds, the silence becomes too painful, and Korra laughs nervously and says, "Well, nice seeing you! Better be going."

Without giving Tahno the chance to reply, Korra grabs Mako's sleeve in one hand, Bolin's in the other, and drags them toward the gym. Tahno's eyes burn into her back until they disappear around the corner, and she emits a loud sigh.

Mako watches her curiously as Bolin embraces Pabu in relief, whispering to him about how the "bad man" is gone and how Pabu doesn't need to be scared anymore (although between the two, Bolin appeared more frightened).

"Are you okay?"

Korra shakes her head and sighs again.

"I'm fine."

The sight of Tahno - terrified, practically shrieking, as Amon's long fingers gripped his skull - flashes before her eyes. Suddenly, her own hands grow clammy, feverish. But rather than confide in Mako (he's probably preoccupied thinking of the next time he'll be sticking his tongue down Asami's throat), Korra announces, "I'll race you to the gym!" and breaks into a sprint. She beats them both, too, by at least 5 seconds.

That afternoon, she returns to Air Temple Island, greets Tenzin and the kids, who grow more rambunctious by the day, and returns outside to resume her airbending training alone. But after weeks of practice, and still no progress, it's starting to feel less like training, and more like Korra making herself look like an idiot. She darts between spinning slabs of wood, occasionally nicked by a corner as splinters accumulated in her palm. Frustrated huffs punctuate the crystalline winter air.

It's not until he's five feet away that she even notices Tahno's presence, hovering just outside the intricate design of wooden sheets. Her heart jolts, and she leaps through two rotating doors and lands in a crouch on the ground. Reflexively, one hand goes to the pouch of water that rests on her hips - but, she notes belatedly, even if he wanted to hurt her, Tahno isn't much of a threat anymore, and she slowly folds her arms in front of her.

Somehow, she isn't entirely surprised that he's sought her out - probably to yell at her; to remind her that she failed him, the entire city, and every Avatar of the past when she allowed Amon to take control of the arena and rip away Tahno's bending.

But instead of shouting, Tahno merely stiffens.

"Avatar," he acknowledges, voice as low and haughty always. But - just like before - his strut is gone, replaced by ginger steps and cautious glances over his shoulder.

Panting, she straightens up and places a delicate hand on her aching lower back. "Tahno? What are you doing here?"

It wasn't intended to be rude, per se, but, Korra notices an instant later, it didn't sound like it. Regardless, Tahno seems unsurprised.

He surmises her for a moment, then continues stiffly, "You know how to fight."

She snorts to hide her surprise.

"Glad you're finally learning to admit it." With a cock of her head, Korra appraises him. Tahno looks horribly uncomfortable and finally, her patience snaps.

"Spit it out! I won't wait all day, pretty boy."

"T-teach me," Tahno blurts; his normally impeccable diction fails him when he stumbles over the word teach, and Korra can't help but take satisfaction on how he must loathe the idea of learning from her - learning what, exactly, she has no idea. "Teach me how to fight without bending."

Whatever Korra was expecting, it wasn't that.

"I...I don't think I can," she admits. Tahno has clearly gone insane, so she determines that she probably shouldn't actually tell him outright that he's an idiot. He may, in fact, be a ticking time bomb; casually, she slides one hand to her waist and conceals a flame dagger behind her hipbone. "I mean, I'm the Avatar...so...bending is sort of my thing..."

With a huff, he waves his hand toward the wooden airbending panels. "Well, were you bending then?"

"No," Korra concedes, "but that's an airbending exercise -"

"So clearly, you don't need bending to fight. You know the moves behind the bending. Even if you were unable to fire bend, you could still hold your own in against a chi blocker."

I wouldn't be so sure about that, Korra thinks, not that she's telling that to Tahno.

"Avatar, you've seen that freak and what he can do," he adds brusquely, "you were there. You saw him take my bending away. I will get my revenge - but I need to know how to fight without bending. You are going to teach me."

Even without his bending, Tahno was a conceited git. Figures. "Says who?"

Tahno suddenly looks smaller, even less confident. But his uncertainty dissipates as his eyes narrow and nostrils flare. Hands balling into fists, he growls, "I said, you will teach me how to fight!"

"No, I won't!"

"Yes, you will!" He takes a step forward, and so does she, until they're face to face, just like in the Water Tribe restaurant. This time, though, Naga is nowhere near attacking range.

And then, what does that idiot do? He shoves her.

Immediately, Korra sweeps her leg across the ground. Within seconds, she has him trapped between twin slabs of earth, a knife-like sliver of fire in one palm. In the other, she grips his shirt, bunched around his slender neck and threatening to cut off air. Tahno eyes the white-hot flames crackling in her hand and shies away from the licks of heat.

She realizes then that his life is quite literally in her hands, in more ways than one; she has options: death by fire, by choking, or she could simply squeeze him between the slabs of earth until his ribcage popped open like a lychee nut. The pit of her stomach churns and her eyes widen. Tahno's eyes are wild, too, echoing the frantic terror that Korra's once held as Amon's palm stretched toward her face and eclipsed all surrounding light.

He hisses, hoarse desperation in his voice, "Can't you see, Avatar? This is why I need to know how to fight!"

A vein pulses in his forehead, beaded with nervous sweat. Korra swallows. Neither move.

At last, she sinks the earthen prison back into the ground, and Tahno is freed.

The space between them thickens, crushing silence permeated only by the Wolfbat's staggered breathing.

"I'm sorry," Korra mumbles at last.

"The Equalists won't be."

She inhales deeply. Mulls it over. "Well, I guess you're not exactly a threat to us anymore when it comes to pro-bending, although I'm sure you still have plenty of dirty tricks up your sleeve," Korra mutters. For a second, Tahno almost looks abashed, but the expression vanishes instantaneously, and Korra figures it's just gas or a suppressed sneeze. "But..."

She hesitates. Without bending, Tahno is easy prey for any Equalists who might want to make a further example out of him. Yet even as a non-bender, he holds power in Republic City. For practical purposes, he's far more useful as a reluctant friend than a scorned enemy.

Still, if Korra wasn't the Avatar - if she didn't shudder every time she saw an Equalist poster - then she wouldn't consider tutoring him in an art that even she hasn't perfected, not for a second, but...

Tahno starts when she releases a frustrated noise that's part growl, part whimper.

"If I'm going to teach you how to fight, then you better listen to me, okay?" she demands, and Tahno's lips upturn the slightest bit. It's the first smile of his Korra's ever seen that isn't sinister or smug, but sincere, almost hopeful.

"And I don't even know how this is going to work out. I always bend when I fight," she reminds him. "So if you're wrong, which, let's face it, you probably are" - Tahno's eyebrow twitches and she can tell that he's holding back a retort - "then don't blame me, okay?"

"I won't," Tahno promises, his eyebrow still twitching. "And..." He swallows. "Thank you, Avatar," he says, his gratitude genuine beneath his pained expression.

Korra shrugs. "You're welcome, I guess." And then, she's not sure what to say, as Tahno stands there, awkward yet somehow grateful, and she stares back at him. With a flash back to their first encounter, she can't help smirking and pointing out, "So I guess you're the one who's gonna be getting private lessons from me, huh?"

Tahno purses his lips. The weakest hint of color ignites his pallor. "I suppose," he says grudgingly. "May we begin?"

"Now?"

Tahno stares back with a feeble sadness in his eyes, the kind of nonverbal begging she usually only sees from Pabu.

"Fine, fine." Korra sighs. She suspects she'll be doing a lot of that during these training sessions, or whatever they are. When her stomach growls loudly, Tahno raises an eyebrow, and Korra declares, "But first, let's eat!"