Having spent the day away from work, Asami drove herself out of the city to sit alone for a while with Mako's scarf (all she has left of him now) wound snugly around her neck. His absence is like a hot poker in her side, unable to ignore and painful to live with because she doesn't need to to try and miss him, she just does. Immediately, painfully. Unfairly. His smile and laugh, even the furrow of his brow; the memory of his kisses makes her cry into her hands while alone on a grassy bank, backed up against the bole of a tree to mourn his loss in solitude.

As such, she's late home, unknowingly giving Chekov and Korra time to set up.