He watches her and Bolin spar for a while as he rests, and he's not sure why he even bothers to put up with her; she's loud and obnoxious, and she'll flaunt her victories over him when they spar, and it just pisses him off. Whenever they win a match in the ring, she'll be there slapping skin with Bolin, her annoying shit-eating grin plastered across her face as they face the crowd and drink in their roars with pride.

And yet he can't help being drawn to her. It's addicting, and he hates it. He hates her.

No. A lie. He definitely doesn't. He doesn't love her, though…not yet, anyway.

No, he doesn't hate her, because for all of her immaturity, the redeeming qualities she possesses are overwhelming.

She tries to protect them during the pro-bending matches—oh, he notices. She'll throw attack after attack if she sees the opposing team members gang up on him or Bolin. Maybe it's an Avatar thing, that need to protect, or maybe it's just her being Korra. He doesn't care, so long as she stays that way.

She takes her duties as the Avatar as serious as possible. Sure, she'll skip out on lessons with Tenzin to hang with them and train for their matches—he'll appreciate that forever—but he knows that she applies herself to whatever that airbender is teaching her, because it shows when they're sparring. A slight shift in stance, a different look in her eyes, it doesn't matter. And the best part is she doesn't flaunt her status. Well, sure, she loves to crow loudly when they're smashing Equalist heads, but when she meets with the public, she's got the oddest bit of humility around her, and it confuses him to no end, but he'll be damned if he doesn't find it noble in the most interesting sense.

She's undeniably brave. She's so young, yet she's here, in Republic City no less—even he wishes he'd never known its unforgiving streets—her unbelievably blue eyes staring firmly at its people, whether friend or foe. He wonders why she's not scared, why she doesn't feel the heavy weight that comes from protecting the whole world, but then he thinks that maybe she does feel it. Maybe she does understand what she's been tasked with since the moment of her birth, but she hides it beneath her goofy smiles and her arrogant attitude.

He's startled out of his reverie by the sound of his brother's body hitting the floor and his laugh-cry of surrender. Korra's triumphant blue gaze turns to Mako for a moment, and he just knows that the blood is already in his cheeks, most likely has been there for a while now, and she wasn't even looking at him.

Well, shit.

And then her voice is ringing through his ears. "Up for another round?"

He, surprisingly, manages his own shit-eating grin to match hers. "Bring it."

Yeah, he's pretty sure he knows why he puts up with this. Mystery solved.

Of course, he'll just go through this thought process again and again, and he'll never be tired of it. He likes being reminded. Likes it a lot.