( there's a smile evident in her voice, even if it's dampened by the stress of emotion. )
Does that mean I get to come into your cool man cave? ( and, ) Be there in a second.
( yes, she knew exactly where mako was waiting out the remainder of their fired up feelings, no she never had any intention of going to seek him out. she tells herself it'd feel too much like on confrontation, but really, she was just scared. it's a mindset she's getting used to living in - less likely to approach problems head on, and more likely to avoid them all together. pack up for three years, find spiritual guidance on the backs of tree roots and swamp vines.
she's lucky mako is so patient with her. that he cares enough to seek her out and find some reconciliation between them, even if korra has never deserved a second of his kind nature. she just kind of depresses herself about it more, on the walk over to mako's dirt hut - the way apologies and forgiveness just make her feel humbled, to the point of uselessness. mako didn't need to apologize. he shouldn't have had to. if korra was anyone else, the fight wouldn't have broken out in the first place. an avatar should be good at that kind of thing, she thinks bitterly to herself. more bitterly, but you're no avatar here. )
Knock knock.
( she says, at the stable of stone and dirt. she leans her head in the exposed opening, offering mako a feigned smile before it settles into a doubtful look. )
( just because he fricked off to another part of the temple doesn't mean he's been ignoring or neglecting them either. just like korra knew where he was (in case he needed help, he's sure) he's been looking after them, too. pots of food delivered to their room, things like that. even when they're mad at each other, they're still very much a family.
when korra peeks in, he gestures. he's sitting on a raised rock outcropping, stirring a pot of curry at a little fire. he may not be able to bend the element any more, but he still knows how to build one and have it be small and smokeless and intensely hot. there's a little hole in the ceiling of his rock-tent for the wavering air to escape, but otherwise... it's pretty plain. )
Yeah, of course. Here.
( he heel-strikes the ground, and another makeshift chair claws its way up through the dirt for her as well, opposite where he's sitting. close enough to him and the fire that it isn't an admonishment or exile. they're both sensitive to these things. )
( she kind of - flinches. she didn't forget mako has earthbending now, or anything, but it's going to take a little getting used to. pretty nice form, the seat is probably exactly where he meant it to be. not bad at all. )
You're getting pretty good at that.
( a little awed. she knows better than to be impressed by mako, because she doesn't doubt him in anything he sets his mind to, but. he still finds ways to take her breath away.
she takes a seat. even though he was careful about the placement, korra still fidgets where she is, trying to figure out the logistics in stealing a hug from him. the small alcove is a little too small to afford that kind of motion, though, so it's with a heavy sigh that she peers over at him, a halfhearted smile curling up the corner of his mouth. )
Bench?
( she really just wants to rest her head on his shoulder, watch him stir the pot, smell the permanency of smoke on his collar, even if it's woodsy now. if she were herself she'd just pull the earth up on her own, but - she doesn't have the talent, anymore. she looks at the divisible space between them and rests her elbows on her knees, hands flat on her biceps. )
( it's korra. she could ask him for the moon and he'd find a way to rip it down out of the sky, carve it into an ocean of ash and dust for her. there isn't enough width too the makeshift tent for them to sit comfortably side-by-each so instead he pushes one wall back and then raises up a bench. he could probably just move the lump of rock he's sitting on, but he's not yet comfortable enough with the idea to do that, instead he gets up and swings himself around the fire, taking up a new seat on the bench. he's sitting with korra on his right-hand side, so he holds his arm out for her, the open space an obvious invitation for her to come curl into him. physical contact is still incredibly important to them both, even though it's bittersweet now.
he even tips his head to her, a gesture done with the jut of his jaw, a sort of curling beckon. )
( she slides into him immediately, a moth drawn to the flame. she starts with just leaning her head on his shoulder, but then she gives up the ghost and stops pretending like she doesn't want to be consoled, sliding an arm around his middle, face pressed against him. she takes a deep, creaky breath, lungs racketing around the metal pangs of emotion stabbing her innards like the poison zaheer sunk into her skin. only - she can't metalbend it out, so it's there just to exist, empty reminders of pain on every breath.
he smells like sweat and spice, and something eerily familiar, like the ghosts of emotions long since passed. )
Seeing Katara was weird. ( it's half mushed into his shoulder, words muffled on every shaky word. ) Not even for all the — hundreds of reasons why it should be weird. She's just.
( just. korra wretches away from him, elbow on her knee, head thrown in her hand so she can rub her shorter hair anxiously. it's her bleeding heart. the girl she met has been grown for years in their world, has lived and survived and thrived in the new world avatar aang built for her, and for the betterment of all people everywhere. but she still wishes she could save her from that, somehow. all that grief and pain and suffering. she knows the original team avatar's story has a happy end, but. just. )
She's just a girl, Mako. She's barely older than Jinora.
( they're just kids who had to put an end to a war for power hungry men started for them. she wishes she had been the avatar to decide ozai's fate, to save a twelve year old air nomad from looking the death spirits in the eye - wishes still, that she could've had some impact on these events that occurred some sixty years before her lifetime. obviously it's impossible. she's never felt pain for it before, because it's always been a story of victory - but. seeing a child is different than reading fourteen on paper. that's all she's lamenting. )
Can you imagine if we were that age when everything went down? Amon? ( and then the trailing list of everything terrible that's ever happened, that korra carries the weight of every single day. ) Vaatu and Unalaq? Zaheer? Kuvira? How can our world allow kids to offer their lives up in the name of peace?
Ugh. I don't want a real answer. ( there isn't one, anyway. she sighs. ) Can I have some curry? I need a pick-me-up.
( their world isn't a kind one. kids go to war. they're burned horribly and cast out by their father. they have to witness the graveyard of their nation. they have to fight and struggle and die, sometimes, and it still isn't enough. it isn't just aang's story. he's not the first avatar throughout history to come into his legacy in a swath of misery and suffering. and he won't be the last.
it's a title with a heavy price, one he's seen korra pay for, one he knows she will keep paying for. every word, every action, every broken bone. she's the only person he knows strong enough to withstand it, but she doesn't see that in herself. she just sees someone who broke once beneath the strain.
and korra, who's so compassionate it hurts him just by proxy, who rips herself open and bleeds for people she's never met, of course she'd look at something that was just... what it was, and hurt for it. the world needed saving. katara was in a position to do that because of what she'd experienced. another girl couldn't have done it.
mako isn't like that. he's not... wired that way, or something. maybe it's because he had to draw himself inward. all of his emotional energy was spent keeping bolin safe and warm and sheltered and as close to happy as he could come, and it left no time to worry about other people. mako's cold and all his edges are hard, he can't be vulnerable in the way that korra can. in the ways she's had to be. his survival has always been about protecting what he has. bolin at first, then korra and asami too, then — at great length — republic city and all her sundry citizens.
hers has, more by nature than any innate avatar-ness there may or may not be to her, been about protecting everyone. korra puts value on his life, but he doesn't think it's any more than what she'd put on a stranger. if it came down to it, him or someone else, he doesn't think she'd pick him. he wouldn't want her to. because she understands that he's aware that sacrifice is sometimes the only play you can make.
so when korra looks at katara and sees a little girl who's carried the world's weight, she mourns for what she could have — should have had. the only thing mako sees is someone who survived. there is no 'what-if' in his mind, because if he starts wondering about other people's what-ifs, he has to examine his own. and that. he can't do it. he can't think about what it would have been like to do anything, literally anything but watch his parents burn to death. fire is a horrific way to die. it twists everything into a blackened rictus, a husk that doesn't even seem like it could be a familiar thing. and the smell...
sometimes, even the thought of it is enough to make him gag. he has to stare determinedly into the pot of curry and focus all his energy on it just to bring him back to the moment.
korra pulls away and he. misses the heat of her at his side. not quite enough to chase her, but enough that he touches her wrist as she laments the injustice of it all. she doesn't want to talk about it, and he won't. she just wants to be comforted, and if nothing else he can at least do that. wordlessly, he hands her a bowl. hand-fired. obviously clay. he's been busy.
once she takes it, he does pull her in again, just. tucking his chin against the crown of her hair. seventeen and fourteen aren't really all that different on paper either, but. he's not going to point that out. korra had even less life experience than katara did. katara, at fourteen, had been all over the world. korra had only ever been to republic city. )
My dad used to say that no one ever hurts more than they can take.
( he always meant it as a balm. something said cheerfully when mako skinned his knees. he never said it about anything serious, in serious times, but. looking back, he thinks it was his way of trying to teach him how to handle the world. his father was a gentle soul who died in an ugly way. he deserved better. )
I don't know if I believe that, but it... still helps, sometimes. To think about.
( she keens into him. she never had a lack of affection growing up, but she's too handsy to deny herself it, when it's offered so freely, at the hands of someone she loves. growing up means a lot of different things to a lot of different people. for mako, it was learning to live for himself, instead of bolin. for korra, it was learning to accept help when it's given.
a large part of her still thinks dissonance in the world is a weight that falls on her shoulders. it's almost like she's lamenting every time the world needed to be realigned, like she should've been there to stop it - in the hundred year war, in any of the thousands of wars that came before then. but. in a way, she was there. her previous lives. it's a common thread between all avatars in any age, from wan all the way through to korra - they'd all rob thousands of years of misery off the shoulders of all their other lives, so everyone else could have the freedom to experience our two worlds in all the joy they posses. if all the suffering in the world's history could've been bounded up in korra's twenty-one years of existence, she would have done it without a second thought. it's not an unusual feeling. aang would've done it, roku. kiyoshi. all of them. all of us.
but that isn't how the world works. you don't get ten years of blessing followed by ten years of misery, like the seasons passing from one into the other. there's always dark and light in every corner of the world, vaatu and raava always feuding each of their glorious fights. balance isn't peace, because peace is a conundrum of its own - you wouldn't know relaxation without the pain of tension, and you wouldn't know happiness unless you felt the fiery hot tears of sorrow. peace can only exist because chaos is lurking behind every twist and turn of life. even now, korra can only say it's peaceful, because she knows the world has been worse off before - in reality, there are always evil doers, there are always dark spirits, there are always people like zaheer and amon who see balance as a means to hurt others. that's where the avatar fits into their role. it isn't even really about bringing peace. it's about maintaining balance, and dealing with the consequences.
she's never heard mako talk about his father before, in any kind of specific manner. she mostly just knows he was earth kingdom, and that he died, and that bolin looks like him. korra isn't sure she agrees with the sentiment either - was the adolescent mako made of some material stronger than the rest of them? could he stand seeing his parents burn more than some other child? - but it is a very fatherly thing to say, wise and boyish. korra takes a bite of curry, but she doesn't taste it much. mako always makes it a little too hot, but it's a blessing for now, letting korra feel the burn of spice on her tongue. )
I think, ( her finger strokes against the bowl, mako's handiwork. ) sometimes you have to break a bone to make sure it heals correctly.
( waterhealing. katara taught her that. sometimes you have to be at your lowest, be broken and beaten and destroyed, body and mind, in order to find your path. it's not about what you can handle, it's about what you do handle, and what you choose to repress. )
Pain can help you discover a lot about yourself, too. I guess ... that's a good thing. ( she shrugs. ) Maintaining balance would be easier if it didn't come with all these ... hard edges. Toph Beifong told me that evil would always exist in the world, no matter what I did. I guess ... accepting that is part of how to become a good Avatar. You know? At a certain point, you have to accept the world for how it is, no matter how ugly. One day I'll die and the next Avatar will have just as much chaos to conquer as I did — maybe even more. Bah, I'm babbling. ( she munches on more curry. ) Thanks for listening. I'm just scatterbrained.
( his focus on her sharpens, like the twist of fire in the air in the moment before it becomes a blade. mako knows all about self-recrimination. he knows, rationally, that he was a child when his parents were killed. that he'd been firebending for only a little while, and that he was no match for a hardened criminal. but there is still a part of him that thinks he should have tried.
so yeah, he knows what it looks like, to have something awful happen to you and think that maybe you deserve it because of what has come before. every fight he got in, every time he went hungry, even.
he looks down at his arm, tucked into the sling. firebending all aside, he hasn't even been able to move pebbles with a twitch of his fingers — even trying was agony. it's possible that the chi is permanently blocked. even that, there's a ghost of a whisper at the back of his mind about how it's all warranted.
but what's acceptable in him is... abhorrent in korra. it's not growth, it's guilt. it's a justification for all the evils that other people have laid down at her feet, i guess it's good i learned about myself as a result of all this pain. and then, to have her just. talk so easily about her own death. he doesn't care that it's a cycle. that it's been a cycle, ten thousand years back into an ancient world. something in him breaks at her pain, and it's not like a bone you can set, it's just. there to hurt. )
Korra. ( his mouth twists in frustration, because he already knows he isn't going to articulate his thoughts properly. ) You were always a good person. A good Avatar. I believed part of that was because you didn't accept the world as it was. You were always looking for ways to make it better, make it brighter. You didn't need. ( there is a very slight, almost imperceptible tremor in his voice. all those times he almost lost her. all those times he could do nothing but stand by while she fought some battle alone. all those times she woke up beside him in a cold sweat, terrified and suffering. )Pain to teach you that. Growth doesn't have to come from being broken. And you haven't deserved any of the awful things that've happened to hurt you.
( he brushes her cheek with his knuckles, a gentle, tender thing. there's no intent behind it, it's not a prelude to a kiss like it might have been once. it's just. human contact. )
Even the stuff I did, when I was — well, you know, kind of an idiot. Pain isn't a good teacher. It just makes you hurt.
( when he learned how to manipulate lightning from zolt, the gangster wasn't gentle. he would often use more than mako could handle, and then laugh when he faltered. toughen up, kid. you'll thank me one day. mako's still angry about the time that zolt almost killed him, not because of the risk to his life but because bolin had to watch waterbenders working on him, and that's not an easy thing for a kid who has nothing else left in the world.
so yeah. true. the pain taught him. lightning didn't save zolt, but it saved him in the fight against amon. but what zolt did. it was still cruel. mako has enough self-awareness now to realize just how much. he didn't need the pain. he would've learned lightning without it. and maybe he'd have been. gentler, somehow, to have done it a better way. it's the same with korra. and he's not going to listen to her telling herself it was a necessary thing, to suffer so much so that she could have a moment of enlightened self-discovery. )
( the thing is - it doesn't feel like a friendly gesture. it feels like how it used to. she's pretty sure mako is going to kiss her, and what's more, she's pretty sure she'd let him.
it's good that he doesn't. the end of their relationship was never about a lack of feelings, and true enough, korra is positive she'll love him until the day she dies, but was instead built on the foundation of that some people can just. love each other more than life itself and still not be meant for each other. they don't need to confuse those feelings. ending the relationship was the right choice, but it still stung like branding iron laying mako's name over her heart. she never fell out of love with him, she just. loved him so much, to know that she'd never be able to make him happy.
that's not even to mention - jesus, asami. a good friend would mention it to mako, at least. give him some sort of heads up. maybe korra's not a good friend. she just wants asami to be here, like seeing her might clear up all these confused, messy feelings. she'd probably know what to say to him, if they said anything at all. really, korra doesn't even know what to call them. girlfriends? dating? she needs to be here.
she just presses a little more on his shoulder, turning her face down so she doesn't have to think about - kisses, or anything other than the sound of mako's voice. pain isn't a good teacher. maybe he's right. but. then.)
Wouldn't you rather feel like everything happens for a reason, instead of just ... ( she shrugs, a little hopelessly. she's just spitting back words that were told to her, once. she isn't sure she really believes it herself. ) Because things and people in our world are inherently bad?
( no. she sighs. she really doesn't believe in any of this. evil is a part of maintaining balance in all things good - there's no reason why anything horrible happened to her, or to mako, or to anyone else she's seen suffer in her lifetime. pain is a product of cruelty, not the universe punishing you for your mistakes.
she shakes her head. )
You're right, of course. I just. Wish I could help make the world ... a better place. Not a perfect one, just ... better.
( he strokes her hair. it's so much shorter than he remembers it that the ends almost jar him, he's expecting to continue on, fingers threaded in the deep tangle of rich earthen brown. they've changed. grown up. grown apart, maybe, in some ways. he's still sore she never wrote him. she said she needed space but it seems like all that space brought her was misery. he should've insisted. he should've gone with her. who lets their friends walk out the door and never tries to. find them. help them, hold them?
it's telling, that of all the people in his life, korra was his very first friend. bolin doesn't count, he's family. mako would do anything for him, but that was never a choice. that was an instinct, a duty. something born of love. but he picked korra. he fell in love with the searing fire in her eyes, the hard line of her jaw, the callouses on her palms. the way she was always battle-ready and eager to fight. he even loved the dark spirits in her, the shadows that clung as the light got low, the horrors of what they've all endured crowding in close. he just. he loves her. wholly, completely, without compromise.
it's probably why he doesn't kiss her. he wants to. of course he does. but she's water in all the places he's fire, she's earth where he's air. they are all about checks and symmetries and balances and it isn't in their stars. they've made that mistake. they've made it time and time and time again and he wants to kiss her so badly that the phantom taste of her mouth is on his tongue.
but he doesn't. their world is cyclic. maybe they'll circle back around. maybe this cycle is broken with that last kiss they ever had, and there are only fresh beginnings. mako heaves a breath, and presses his lips down against the crown of the dark halo of her hair. )
No. I don't think things do happen for a reason. That's too easy. You get to just throw your hands up and say 'hey, I couldn't have changed anything, it was just meant to be'. Bad things happen and you deal with it, but I don't think it was your destiny to have Amon take your bending. Or to have Zaheer poison you. I think it was a choice they made that you had to live with.
( he tucks her hair behind her ear. )
Korra. Korra. You have made the world better. Where would we be right now if no one had stopped Amon? Or Unalaq? We'd be right back in another Hundred Years' war if Kuvira had taken Republic City. You've done so much. You just can't see it because you're too close to it. Take a step back and look. Really look. I mean it. And don't talk.
( he pulls back from her enough to tap his hand against his chest. over his heart. )
Start here. Just with me. If I hadn't met you, I would've — done what? We never would've made it to the tournament without you. So that would've been it for me and Bolin. We would've been back on the streets. And the only thing either of us would've been good for would've been crime. We were too old to rely on the tricks that kept us alive as kids. So... what, then? I'm the new crime boss of the Triple Threats?
( there wouldn't have been a choice. he would have done it if he had to. to protect his brother. he'd tried so hard to keep out of crime, but if there'd been no other recourse? of course he would have. and anything mako puts his mind to, he excels at. )
I would've been a horrible person. But you showed me there was another way. You gave me all the best parts of yourself without ever asking for anything in return. You're the one who made me realize I could be more than what I was. That I could be better. You gave me that. Just by being you. And I'm just one person. You made that difference.
Oh, that's an easy one. That's gotta be Tenzin. The puff of air, the peace sign, the judging look on that bald head ... All it really needs are some arrows.
... but, when she does, it's an excited clamor of yelling, indoor voice thrown pointedly in the garbage. also, she really doesn't - make that much sense. )
Raava!
( no, this is mako. right right. make some sense out of it, korra, c'mon. you can do it. )
( would she even be korra if she backed down from a fight?
she makes it there. faster than usual, because the wind is on her side, now, and when she arrives she's greeted by the scent of lightning in the air, the tell all signs of bending greeting her. at the sight of mako, she gives a wolf whistle, ever playful and - really, she seems to have come alive, from all times prior when mako had seen her. her smile was never quite as honest as it is now, evidently brought on by the miracle of bending. )
( the ozone is crackling in the air. mako, like korra, is enlivened by the change. he's adapted quickly to the siren song of earth, but fire is his. it took a long time for him to accept that about himself, but in accepting it he became fiercely proud of it. being good at it.
he's grinning like a fool, and when korra wolf-whistles he just bows elaborately, a flourish in leashed flame at his fanned-out fingertips. once a fire ferret, always a fire ferret. the showmanship doesn't come as naturally to him now, but it's still there.)
( ah, bravo! korra gives a delighted clap at the showy gesture, starry eyes of the girl who first listened to mako play on the radio all those years ago evident on her features. it's been a long, long time since she's fought with mako - an equally long time since she's seen him. you know, actually have fun with bending. seeing him with a smile on his face and fire in his heart tickles an ancient thing in her, long since buried. maybe it's risen a few layers up the earth's core since they've been here. maybe.
it's a fleeting praise. korra doesn't respond to him. she's idolizing him one second, and in the next there are the quickfire sweeps of her punches, one-two, fireballs flying out of her knuckles and to mako in rapid succession. she's too far away for it to be actually harmful, but it does set the field. she's here to play! put 'em up, big guy. )
You know, you didn't dance with me at Varrick's wedding.
( so it's ... time to dance now!! this is more their speed, anyway. )
( he steps forward to meet the fire head on, diverts it with a gesture that's more water than firebender, and is left standing in the curling smoke. she wouldn't hurt him in a million years, but it feels good to catch fire in his hand. hers has always felt a little different to him. maybe it's an avatar thing, but her fire... it seems as if it has a heartbeat.
he's smiling a bit, as he reaches up to pull the sling off over his head. it gets tossed somewhere out of the ring haphazardly. his arm's still... you know, not at its best. it aches pretty near constantly, and he hasn't been able to bend anything. neither earth nor fire. but if he's going to square off against korra for a dance like some ceremonial agni kai, he wants to at least be able to move. )
You're the one who snuck away!
( mock-indignation. no. he knows why he didn't ask her. and he (thinks) he knows why she didn't ask him. things are fine between them. settled, solid. he will always love her. )
But you looked beautiful, Korra. You always do.
( he bows deeply, left fist against the palm of his right hand. then he springs back lightly into a firebending form and, just to be a cheeky jerk he flicks his fingers at her, come on.)
because it is different. mako was always a master firebender, and certainly more elegant that the fuddy duddy master who thought to teach her the ancient ways of fire, but he's grown in different ways in the three years korra took to divide herself from them and find a path of ... repentance, almost. mako is more sure of himself, now. his right swing's gotten better, probably to compensate for the left. he's grown out of his teenaged body and into one befitting an adult man. he stands a little taller, no longer afraid of his height. his punches, when they come, aren't all power, but maintain the flow of his movements, the way an airbender would move. they're slight, small changes - someone watching him would see no difference. but korra.
she's spent some time studying in the university of mako. it's like she could've predicted all the ways he'd grow and change, fitting the cop command like the spot was made for him. this is a man hardened by the dirt of republic city, a man bathed in the fires of comets and forged from clear water cuts of icebergs. this is man is not a firebender. this man is like the old stories of iroh in his youth, studying waterbending and applying it to fire. there are trace amounts of all the elements in mako and how he moves, forfeiting the hotheaded power of an all natural firebender, in light of thieving away the fluidity of an airbender, using the sudden stability of an earthbender to offset his opponent.
this is a man who knows what he's up against. and korra has grown a lot too, on the tail ends of suffering, on the conjoining of elements and philosophical debates on what it all means. they are where four walls come crumbling down, and where bending becomes more than just fighting. they are rewriting the fabric of their world, rebuilding the very foundation of firebending, one agile step at a time. they are the dragons, giving knowledge to man. they are ran and shaw, dancing. )
You sure know how to make a girl blush!
( it isn't a lie. being called beautiful touches a soft spot on her. if mako were being tactile, he'd use it to gain the upperhand. instead,
korra switches to airbending, sliding easily in between his legs and coming out the other side. it's playful, not exactly in the goal of winning, but. fine. she's honestly just flirting with him, peering over his shoulder. ( she hasn't been going after his left side whatsoever. ) )
You weren't so bad yourself. I like how you style your hair now, by the way.
( korra was always the best bender he'd ever seen. not necessarily in terms of knowledge — there's no denying she had a lot to learn when she got to republic city — but in terms of... untapped potential. when he first met her, she was unformed. untempered. and maybe... that was what drew him to her at first. you could look at korra and see a thousand different tomorrows. you could look at her and see something limitless, beyond the known horizons of the world. there was hope in potential, and that was always the best and brightest of what she gave him, more even than the love.
he's never met anyone who learned as quickly as she did, and adapted what she learned to suit her. she took everything she ever learned and made it better for having done it. she could move effortlessly, seamlessly between elements without a shift or a break in her style. and mako would find little pieces of himself scattered in the way she did it, sometimes. bolin was in the lightness of her earthbending stance, mako was in the power and agility to her airbending, tenzin in the evasiveness of her firebending. and her waterbending became more and more like asami the closer they got too.
but of all her elements, he's always loved her airbending the most. maybe because it's the only one she struggled with, because the moment she used it first was also the moment she saved him. but more importantly than the love he had for air was —
his earliest memory is his mother pulling him into her lap and tucking a well-swaddled bolin into his arms, showing him how to support the head, her warm arms around him so there was no danger to letting a toddler handle a newborn. but the next memory he has is of fire.
he doesn't remember what he was doing, there was no firebending in his family for generations so there was no expectation that he'd have it. he just remembers conjuring flame to lick his fingers and laughing in the usual glee that toddlers have at something new and shiny, and his mother's face when she realized what she was doing. she could have been anything — afraid, or worried. but instead she was excited and proud. children at that age are a reflection of what their parents show them, so he'd been the same. they couldn't afford a firebending master, but his parents would take scrolls out on loan from the library and go over them with him while he learned.
and then they died. and fire transmuted from a thing of wonder into one where only horrors lurked. for a while, he'd resolved never to do it again, but even at eight years old he knew that was probably pointless. it was a tool, and it would help them survive, and if he was going to learn it he needed to be the best because of what happened the one time he wasn't. but he never liked bending, only the utility and practicality that came with it.
seeing korra use fire, knowing she'd never... had anything ill come of it. seeing the unfettered passion in it, feeling the warm little heartbeat that seemed to settle and pulse in the flames she called up from the heart and soul of her. that was what gave him back the love he'd had for it once. for a long time, what he carried was the idea that fire could only destroy, she's the one who let him relearn all the ways it could be soft and nurturing. not necessarily because she used it that way — it was her element of power, she almost always defaulted to it in an attack — but because she made him see it in himself.
and if he loved her for nothing else she's ever done, he would have loved her for that. she talked about broken bones, resetting them so they can heal? she broke what he'd been limping on for a decade and realigned his view of the world.
spirits, he loves her. he loved who she was when they met, and he loves who she's become even if he can mourn for what it took from her. it's nice to see her smile again, like the sun's peeked out from behind a wintry veil. )
Really? Bolin says I look stuffy.
( he's playful about it. his looks have never been something he needed his ego stroked about, mako knows he's attractive. and that his hair is fine. when korra dances around behind him on a gust of air, he flips himself to one side, pivoting so he's facing her when his feet touch the ground, a gust of fire at one heel to stabilize his landing just the way an airbender might. he crouches to swipe at her feet, a slicing arc of flame he knows she'll jump over just as easily as he does it. )
( they are a meticulous duo. korra wasn't always that way - she used to like throwing herself wholeheartedly and entirely into a fight, exhausting all of her resources and being annoyed when it was over too quickly. it's why pro bending was so much fun for her, honestly. she couldn't just win right away, couldn't be the antithesis to whatever element her opponent was spouting. she was just the water one, needing to figure out how to make that work for her - it did wonders for her bending, siphoning off the other elements like lanced wounds, focusing on the one. having clear boundaries, pouring her all into one thing and reaping the grown fruits of that particular labor.
not all the fruits. they lost in the end, but. that ended up being a good thing, kind of.
she's a different fighter now. before it was all power all the time, like she had something to prove to whoever she was fighting against - hurling rocks and fire in every direction, talented yes, but undisciplined. an avatar without a cause, fighting for the sake of fighting. she's taught herself discipline in the last few years, lived with her own body weighing her down, fighting against her. her moves are all well timed and small shows for benefit more than showing off, mako and korra both moving in time together, like they both have the choreography of this fight memorized. mako moves here, korra moves there. they never touch each other's fire, because they're too in sync to be caught off guard - their flames just lick each other at the wisps of fiery tips, tasting, flirting. )
You look like a cop, if that's what he means.
( it feels good to stretch her muscles. mako, despite his reservations and pissy attitude when they first met, has this - almost childish excitement about him, that comes out in small ways, playfully, when the world is looking in another direction. but. korra's pretty much always looking at him, watching him enjoy himself, laughing, smiling through bending, getting to exert himself through something that actually challenges him. fire's history has always been twinged with the pain and suffering of older, ambitious men trying to upset balance, but. korra has hundreds of lifetimes when fire was fun and pure, and the nations living in harmony saw friendships form throughout the four kingdoms. avatar wan was a firebender by nature, and she's always thought of the element as - uncompromisingly fun, danger and excitement laced in every move. that was how wan embodied it. and honestly? that's how mako embodies it, too. korra can read him like a book, and where someone else would see the cool lines of hard determination, korra just sees. fun. and loves him all the more for it.
there's a basin of water, somewhere nearby. she knows that's how she'll win, at least on the first round. they flip and step and move with each other, drawing closer. at the right moment, the way her hands move changes suddenly, and - there's a burst of water kicking at mako's feet, knocking him off kilter. korra goes the rest of the way to knock him down, sitting on his stomach, one knee bent up, hand on his chest. )
Two out of three?
( she laughs. her chest is rising and falling with exertion, but - she's happy. she can see it on him, too. )
( wow, what a dirty trick. korra should be ashamed of herself. mako is laughing as she pins him, at the gust of air she used to soften his fall, at how light he feels. losing his firebending, the heat and warmth of the sun. it's. exactly what it was like to have korra gone for those three years. an anchor around his feet, but he just learned to carry it. the weight constantly threatening to drag him under some impossible ocean.
but when she came back to republic city, it was like a lost sense was returned to him. color came back into the world, or the sun into the sky, or. the wind in the air. he lived without her, but he didn't realize how much he hated it until she was back.
and now she's pressed in close against him, and he can feel the warmth of her hand over his heart, and everything in his mind has gone silent except for one simple, singular thing.
mako levers his good hand down against the earth. the left reaches up to touch her cheek, and then he's leaning up to her to kiss her. it's all the things it never was before — soft and chaste and sweet and so gentle it's barely a fully realized touch, but he's smiling when he pulls away. )
( it's so natural, she doesn't even think about it. she leans into him, lets him kiss her, but it's too short for her to really kiss back. there's no question about if it's okay or not - he's smiling, she's smiling, and her eyes had gone hooded somewhere in between him touching her cheek, so she opens them now and.
and.
for some reason, she's expecting asami to be looking back at her.
it's an awful crash of feelings. her face drops from happiness down to near horror as she realizes what she's done. she works in an effort to actively not hurt mako, but in doing so she's. forced herself to do exactly that. what did she expect would happen? she wants to kiss him a million more times, but. she can't hurt asami, either. she loves them both so much she thinks her heart might burst at the notion of. choosing one over the other, letting whoever gets left behind feel the burn of dejected isolation.
korra knows it too well. she doesn't want to hurt anyone. her hands both clap over her kissed mouth, eyes a little wide but - she can't let mako think he did anything wrong either. she just blurts out, )
I have to tell you something!
( ugh. she groans and hangs her head, hands flattening out on her face. she isn't moving off him, though. not until she gets this out. )
( his expression sort of undergoes a series of shifts, from happy and contented to confused to. set, as if he's expecting some horrible recrimination. he knows korra well enough to read the language of her body, and he. just. sort of.
extricates himself out from beneath her so he can sit a short distance away. his brows are drawn down in serious consideration. )
What? Is she here? Is she okay?
( if so, it's an odd time to bring that up, but. you know. korra doesn't have the world's best timing. )
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