There's a part of Korra that wants to whine and stamp her foot a little. Just a little. It's not her typical way of dealing with things, nor is it something that she'd easily abide in herself, but there's still that petulant voice that says — she's not even sure how to begin. Genuinely. She has no idea how to start making friends, has no idea where to even look, has no idea how to replicate the circumstances under which she met Bolin. Sneak into an arena with pro athletes?

Does she even need more pro athletes in her life right now?

"Yeah, okay," she says instead, exhaling as she rubs at the back of her neck, cheeks now flushed with something like shame. She stares at their knees, just barely pressed one against the other. Maybe that's just better for everyone involved, right? If she can figure out how to get along with people. Which seems to be the greater problem.

"You know that I'm still sorry, right? About what happened. I shouldn't have kissed Mako like that. For multiple reasons, really," she says, raising her brows and shaking her head at herself. If only she'd known Asami better at that point. If only she'd known Mako better, Bolin better. Too many 'if only's to count.