In the subtle stirrings of morning, a lone badger frog croaked. Korra shifted her spot at the crest of the hill, feeling the wet grass soak through her clothes.

It's so peaceful, she thought. And to think that in just an hour, everything in this world will be awake again.

She didn't know how people could remain apathetic to the morning, how they could miss the fiery sunrises, the dew on the grasses, the moist earth constantly supporting, the slight breezes that stirred everything to life.

She breathed in the chilly air, stirring the grass with her foot. Yes. The morning was the perfect, capturing the peace of the nighttime and gracing it with light.

Lifting her wrist, she lazily twirled the dew from the individual blades of grass, spinning it in a circle barely above them.

Korra began adding more water to the circle, forming it into a funnel. A blast of fire erupted through it, and it splashed to the ground.

She looked around, wondering who would dare to disturb her peace.

Mako slid to the ground next to her. "Morning," he said quietly.

"Hey, why'd you do that?"

She gestured to the puddle of water slowly seeping into the ground.

"Leave the dew."

He rubbed his eyes, and she wondered if he was sleepwalking.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. No. Just leave the dew how it is."

"Why?" she asked tersely, crossing her arms.

"It's pretty," he murmured, head turning to the side.

"Since when do you like pretty things so much?"

I like you, he wanted to say, but he snorted instead. "I usually don't."

"Why now?"

Silence covered them like a damp cloth, and neither spoke. Korra sighed, turning to survey the fields again. Republic City's skyline illuminated the background, but she ignored it. No. She wouldn't let the looming threat of the city ruin her morning.

"It's just… it holds memories for me," he finally responded.

Korra studied his face in slight confusion. His elbows rested on his knees, and he stared intently at the grass.

"C'mon, Mako, spit it out."

"No. It's stupid."

She slugged him on the arm lightly, and he swayed away slightly. He ignored her studiously, and her smile faded.

"Mako, you can tell me anything, you know that?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course," he replied, shaking his head as if to clear it. "I just… my mom died in the morning."

"Oh…" she trailed off, unable to muster a response. She felt guilty, selfish even, that both of her parents were still alive. She'd never gone through what Mako had. Even if her parents had died when she was young, she had no siblings to take care of, and someone else would have. "So the dew reminds you of her?"

"I was always her favorite. Serious little Mako, that's what she'd call me. Dad had already died, and Bolin was too little to realize that it meant anything other than a nap. I held her hand as she died."

"Oh, Mako…" she muttered, taking his hand in hers for support. To her surprise, he squeezed it, smiling at her. His hands were so warm, so large and comforting.

"She was Earth Kingdom. She liked being outside, so I carried her as best a nine-year-old could outside.

"She told me when I laid her on the ground that I had to take care of Bolin, that he needed me. I told her I would. I love him. What else would I do?"

He stared off bitterly again, sucking his cheeks in.

"Then she just stared at the grass, at the dew."

"She was… dead?" Korra asked awkwardly, feeling him tense.

"No. Not… yet. She said 'Mako, this dew is beautiful. It's perfect, but it only lasts a short while.' I was nine. I had no idea was she was talking about. But she continued, probably just the babbling of a woman too close to being taken by disease.

"'The rain, though. It's consistent. It makes sure that the Earth is always healthy and happy, rather than just decorating it as the dew does. The rain is a force to be reckoned with.' I didn't know why Mom was talking about the weather as her hands grew cold, but hell, I held on as tightly as I could."

Korra leaned against him, feeling him shake. He didn't talk about it much. She knew that. He paused, but looked down at her head against his side, and wrapped an arm around her before continuing.

"Then she said something I'll never forget - 'You need to find your rainstorm. There will be plenty of dewdrops, but they won't heal you. The constant fire of rain will.' Now, I see the irony in what she said. How a woman on the doorstep of death could've known so much, I never will. But she told me she loved me, and then we were burying her."

"Mako, I'm so so-"

"Don't be," he cut her off, waving a hand. "What's done is done, and she taught me something I'll never forget."

"About rain?"

"About people. Bolin can have as many pretty girls as he wants, but they'll never stay. I just need one who will always be by my side."

Korra's gut tightened. Was he…? No. He couldn't be. There was no way that he could ever like her the way that she liked him.

"Someone like you, Korra," he sighed so lightly she almost didn't hear him.

"M-me?" she managed to dumbly stutter, chiding herself at her stupid response.

"Yeah. You're like that. Fierce, constant, reliable, but still spontaneous and healing. You're the one I need."

Her heart beat out of her chest, she turned to look at his structured face.

"You mean it?"

"Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," he mumbled, a blush rising to his cheeks now.

"I'll leave the dew alone, then," she smiled. "Because somehow I'm okay that you like the rainstorms."