[ Hei tries not to draw comparisons to the numerous times he's used love hotels as expedient safe-houses back home. With about ten thousand of them in Tokyo, enemies might suspect their quarry of hiding in one. But with no credit card required for registration, and fake names the norm, it'd take ages for them to track him down. Of course, that's not the case here. He's checking into a hotel for no reason but the obvious one. To civilians it might seem illicit and risque. But for Hei, the very straightforwardness of the fact makes it remarkably innocent. ]
"The real secrets are not the ones I tell," [ is his only answer, and to anybody else it might sound like a terse blow-off, but Hei is always adept at seeming one thing and being another. He's sure that Korra knows that too by now, in her own way. Lightly, he presses her hand and steers her to a street lined with tall buildings. Guides her straight into one, through heavy revolving doors that exhale warmth and light at every rotation, and into a wood-paneled lobby. ]
action;
"The real secrets are not the ones I tell," [ is his only answer, and to anybody else it might sound like a terse blow-off, but Hei is always adept at seeming one thing and being another. He's sure that Korra knows that too by now, in her own way. Lightly, he presses her hand and steers her to a street lined with tall buildings. Guides her straight into one, through heavy revolving doors that exhale warmth and light at every rotation, and into a wood-paneled lobby. ]