It's a word puzzle. You're given clues and have to figure out the words and write them in these little boxes.

[ The incongruity of the moment doesn't escape him. He can practically see Korra's thoughts looming over her head like word balloons. If she was a mark, he'd try to weave a warm atmosphere conducive to conversation. But she's not, so he can't be bothered. It's not indifference; it's relief. There's no pressured performance here. After all, it's not often Hei allows himself moments of relaxing, if you can call it that. He rarely does this with others, except maybe Yin. Doesn't particularly like revealing to most people that he has a personality at all. ]

[ Korra though, despite being from a different homeworld, brims with slivers of normalcy. It's easy to accommodate her -- there's no mind-games -- so Hei lowers the iron curtains a few degrees. It's his definition of kindness. Sort of. ]

The last place I stayed in [ never Lived ] had a store nearby that sold Hanjie. Nonograms. I'd finish at least one on the subway ride to jobs [ various jobs for various undercover assignments ] downtown.