Mako has lived his life in regrets. But this? This, he hopes, makes up for everything he has done.

The air around him burns and the sky is on fire, but Mako's feet are frozen to the ground.

He does not scream for help, and he does not cry, even though his eyes sting with tears from the smoke.

Everything is on fire and is burning, burning, burning.

Fire is life, his mother used to say, coaxing the flames in her hands, but she was wrong and these were all lies because right now there is fire everywhere, and death is the only thing Mako smells.

He doesn't do anything but watch as his parents turn into ashes.

(This is regret number one.)

It's their first winter in the streets of Republic City, and Mako refuses to use his firebending.

"You don't get it," he says to his brother, trying to sound as authoritative as he can despite the fact that both of them are freezing. "It's dangerous. I'm not going to use it, ever. It ruined our lives." He's reminded of this every time he closes his eyes, the flames and the smoke embedded in his mind. Sometimes he can feel the heat underneath his skin, the flames licking at his fingertips, begging to be released. It makes him sick.

"But Mako, I'm cold," Bolin replies. He rubs his arms, desperately seeking some heat from the friction.

"I know," whispers Mako, shifting the only blanket they have, a ridiculously thin one that they took from a garbage can, so that Bolin is fully covered. "Me too."

His effort is useless, because two days later, Bolin catches pneumonia and is sick for a month.

(This is regret number two.)

He is sixteen and stupid and desperate for money (Bolin is growing so quickly and they never have enough food to eat), so he agrees to take the offer.

It's his first time, and he has no clue what he's doing. The woman leaves with a disgusted look on her face after they are finished and Mako is puking in the restroom.

(This is regret number three.)

He is sorry.

This, he knows, means nothing. Sorry does not mend Asami's broken heart or wipe away her tears, but then again, neither does he.

He catches glimpses of her face whenever Korra and he are together, and he can see the pain etched onto her face so obviously.

But Asami never accuses him of anything, never blames him for everything that has gone wrong in her life, because that is just how she is. Mako never really deserved her anyway.

He's happy with Korra. He starts to get the feeling that they belong together. But then he gets a job as a policeman, and Korra has to save the world. And that's when he starts to wonder if they really were meant for each other.

Eventually, Korra leaves him because she is better. Stronger. She does not need him the way that he needs her. She has not torn apart anyone's heart, already so fragile, in order to be with him.

(This is regret number four.)

It's a split second decision.

A young man turns down an alley, and Mako is trailing close behind, trying to find out the location of a shady triad group that is the supposed culprit behind several random murders.

After a year of hearing it, he's grown accustomed to the sound of a bullet clicking in its chamber. He stops for a moment when he hears it then, and his eyes search his surroundings for the source of the noise.

And that's when he sees a person from the corner of his left eye, pointing a gun at another man. Screams fill the air.

"Police! Don't move!" Mako shouts, sprinting with his hand on his own pistol.

It is too late.

He is always too late.

(This is regret number five.)

He looks up and sees her. The girl that never belonged to anyone, least of all him. He knows that she shouldn't be here – that he should die alone because spirits knows that he deserves it – but he can't help accept the fact that he wants her here.

"When on earth did you ever become such a self-sacrificing idiot?" she cries, her body trembling.

His red, bloodied lips twist into a smile and he laughs weakly.

"When I met you," he replies. His vision is growing blurred around the edges and everything he hears is distorted, as if he is underwater.

"You're such an idiot!" Korra shrieks, and she has lost it now. Her hands clutch his shoulders and she is shaking him, screaming, "Why did you— why—I just—I love you, I love you, I love you-"

The tears roll off of her face, soaking into his blood stained shirt.

(It'll be okay, Korra. You'll miss me but you'll be okay.)

"Didn't we break up?" Mako says, attempting to laugh. His weak chuckles soon turn into violent coughs, and blood trickles out of the corner of his mouth.

"Mako, shut up. I- I can't heal you, there's- there's too much… you can't die on me, I swear, don't you die, don't you dare—"

He wonders how Bolin will react when he hears the news, but then he remembers that he has a family now. Friends. It's not just the two of them anymore, and he doesn't need protecting.

No one needs Mako like he needs them.

"You can't! You're not supposed to, it wasn't supposed to be like this- I won't let you go," Korra tells him, because she has always been stubborn, and she is clutching at him as if her grasp can somehow bring him back to life. "Mako, please don't leave me."

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

There are too many words he never had the chance to say, so it's only logical that his last words, the words he will leave this world saying, should be an apology.

He shuts his eyes and the world is gone.

(This is redemption.)

Author's Note: I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so fucking sorry when Mako was like "I feel like I've been drifting away from the group" I was just like you poor idiot child I love you so much so naturally I wrote a fic in which I killed him