Chapter 6: Forgive Me

General Iroh and Korra were sparring out on the front lawn of the Air Temple.

They flipped and spun over and around each other. Waves of fire and flashes of flame reverberated through the lawn as the two stood on opposite sides of the field. In the room behind them, Tenzin suppressed a deep frown. Air Temple grounds were not made for firebending.

But the Councilman could not simply say 'no' to the General and the Avatar. Although he might be allowed to boss around the Avatar or give suggestions to the General, together, the Avatar and General were unapproachable. Two incredibly powerful people, both bent on doing something, could not be denied. Tenzin knew this and frowned, trying to pretend it wasn't happening outside, he sipped his coffee with a poorly hidden grimace lined upon his face.

Mako stood in front of the opened front window and watched them, eyes drooped. His face, rather than frowning in displeasure, was simply apathetic. Ever fiber of his being was telling him to look away... but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to do it. As much as he hated it, he couldn't deny that it was mesmerizing. Loathworthy.

They moved in long, wide and precise, flowing and powerful movements. Remarkable; nothing like modern firebending forms or what was used in the arena. The forms they used were aged and nuanced. Small, minute movements and shifts in their postures proved that they were both well-trained to bend sophisticatedly in a particular, impeccable, old way. Their bending was an art. No one firebended in this way anymore.

Centuries beyond centuries ago, when the term 'Agni Kai' had first emerged from a remote village in the Fire Nation, this is what firebending had been. Nowadays, the term 'Agni Kai' didn't signify anything except for the name of Republic City's downtown gang.

The two were focusing hard, sweat beading at their brows, the heat surrounding them. They glared at one other and moved in sync, flowing perfectly with each other's particular, precise moves. Of course they would be in sync—they had grown up learning the same form.

Mako had never had a firebending master from who to learn. Bending teachers were expensive and the brothers hadn't been able to afford them. All the knowledge in his possession had been either self-taught or solicited. He and Bolin had joined the Triple Threats to pick up training tips from the gangmembers. They left soonafter they had had been instructed in the basics. Most orphan benders got sucked into the lifestyle, though.

After leaving the Triple Threats, the brothers had begun sneaking into probending games, attempting to hone their skills by learning from observation from afar. When Toza caught them, the earthbending trainer had assessed their skills before finally offering Bolin instruction. Earthbending was a notoriously harder skill to take control of, as opposed firebending, which often came naturally.

Mako had to teach himself how to bend lightening in order to work as a generator at the electric plant. He'd scrounged up instructional texts and occasionally snuck in to watch the benders at work and copy their forms.

It was lucky that the two brothers had been born benders. Orphans on the streets of Republic City were usually handed early deaths due to harsh winters and the lack of ability to protect their makeshift shelters. Even if untrained, the two had scrounged up enough of their talents to at least scare away the other orphans from their shelter. And together, they had enough family to not seek solace in one of the bending gangs of the city, which often comprised of runaway or orphaned bending children seeking a sense of family.

Mako's talents had either been self-taught or learned on the streets. He had never had a master from whom to learn.

He watched General Iroh and Korra, who had both so obviously honed their skills under expensive instructors for years. They were both trained. Each and every one of their moves radiated with years of practiced perfection and hard tutelage.

Each move was purposeful, elegant and smooth. They were both using the ancient, traditional style, characterized by wide sweeps, full arcs and high kicks. Mako's eyes drooped down, unable to move away from their forms. It was nothing like firebending used the arena.

It was an art and they were dancing. They were perfectly in sync; each blow was countered by a trained defense.

The two were dancing an age-old dance to which they both knew the steps.

When Iroh and Korra came down to dinner later that night, the two had seemed closer to each other than before. And it irked Mako.

They had gone out that day and they had taken Naga. Surprisingly enough, the General hadn't been accompanied by his bodyguards. It was strange and odd to see the guy without soldiers flanking him. He looked naked. Mako wasn't quite sure if they were there because he was the Crowned Fire Prince, or because he was the General.

Nevertheless, he went out, alone with her. And when they came downstairs for dinner later that night, they seemed closer together than before.

It bothered Mako. It bothered him so much that he actually realized it bothered him. And that realization was what had made him shut up and not speak a word throughout the entire dinner.

His face was trained into a blank slate, the food on his plate moving silently about. He didn't look their way. He couldn't. For some reason... it hurt too much.

He didn't even feel any anger boil up within him. He knew he wasn't allowed to be angry. His face was blank. A clean slate of emotionlessness.

But that was two nights ago.

Today was the day—the day that the city was finally in a stage of full reparation and rebuilding. The rejoice that shortly followed the battle had passed and people began working now. Korra had agreed to go with him to check out the state of the probending arena. They would assess the damage done and see if they could help out with it. She, afterall, was a Master Waterbender and the Avatar, and the arena stood up on the bay.

So, for the first time in weeks, since the battle, the two were alone together and the air between them was silent. It, to their great relief, was without any tension, but Mako simply refused to look her way or given her any attention out of favor. Out of respect, it felt like; he felt like he didn't deserve to.

They surveyed the broken building, and the silence shimmered golden.

He couldn't find a thing to say with her. Memories of her moving closely with Iroh for the past two days kept on flashing over his eyes. He felt the distanced immediately; it was self-imposed.

He felt chastised. Because he knew he wasn't allowed to object. He couldn't have a thing to say, and that bothered him. So he stayed quiet.

But then it got to the boiling point.

Moving through the wreckage, brushing arms, fingers with her. It made something deep ache in his heart, even as the visage of Iroh and Korra laughing over their lunch that day filtered through his head.

It ached so hard that he wasn't allowed to speak.

"Look! What is wrong with you?" Korra finally exclaimed, backing him into a corner. She had turned around and her face was irritated, looking like it was ready to burst. Mako's head jerked back; he hadn't expected her outburst. He thought she'd prefer it this way.

"I am sick of you being moody and cold and distant all day," she continued. "Did I do something to make you mad?" she asked, annoyed.

Mako stared down at her agitated form, eyes wide and utterly surprised. A quiet moment passed before them as he stared down at her and reassessed her speech.

Yes, you have done something wrong.

But I don't have anything to say about it.

And staring down at the girl with tanned skin, a fierce attitude, and even fiercer temper, another pang ached and reverberated in his heart. And he gave up.

He shifted his body and turned around her so that his back was to the center of the room. He moved a bit closer to her. They were surrounded in dust, debree, and charcoal, standing in a burnt corner of the gym below the arena.

"Korra..." Mako whispered, staring down at her smaller form, his eyes piercing. I hope you can see everything I can't say to you. Korra blinked, meeting his intense golden-brown eyes.

She couldn't help but want to push herself closer to him. Closer to his chest. Whereas with Iroh she felt fluttered and nervous and wanted to push herself away in her nervousness, Mako just made her want more of him.

"Mako..." she repeated quietly. They stood close together, still for another moment.

Then, his hand quickly sweeped up behind her head to brush a strand of hair forward. He brought it to sit upon her shoulder. He didn't say anything, just stared down into her face and fingered the single lock with his hand. It tensed and untensed upon her shoulder.

He couldn't say anything. He couldn't. Asami was still his girlfriend and Korra...

Korra was still a girl whom he could not stop admiring, no matter how hard he tried. And he had tried... So, so hard.

He wasn't right for Avatar Korra. He knew that. She was the Avatar, for goodness' sake. She was a better fit with General Iroh. He matched her skills and expertise... Someone whom she'd known since childhood. Someone who'd be nothing but perfectly suited for her.

Yet, he couldn't let it go. The strand of hair he twirled between his two fingers over her right shoulder was the only way he was connected to her. And he couldn't let it go. Didn't want to... let it go. His hand, wanting to touch her cheek instead of the strands of her hair—so close, yet so far from her face. He knew he couldn't touch her.

Not with the way he was now.

Not with Asami, with his past, what he'd said and done to her before. Not with his soiled skin and dirt beneath his fingernails.

But god, how much he wanted to. It made the feeling of his heart thumping within his chest literally ache. He wanted to touch her so bad. This enigma, this embodiment of a revolution, this... this girl he couldn't stop being enamored by.

Quickly, his hand slid around her head and he pulled her head to his shoulder. He made sure she couldn't see his face when he said this, that her eyes were stolidly pushed up against his right shoulder.

"Korra... Korra, I like you," he whispered into her hair, pushing her head against his shoulder and pressing his cheek hard into her hair. "Forgive me, Agni, but I think I'm in love with you. And I don't know what to do about it."

He heard her pause, and then hesitate, relaxing.

"Yeah..." she finally said, sounding, all at once, speechless, unsurprised, and angry.

Angry because of all the pain she'd put her through. Speechless because she hadn't quite expected this... Unsurprised... because she had sort of always known.

But, angry because it was him.

It was him, Mako, and she knew that that created a whole mess of other things. It was Mako.

And the problem was that she liked him back.

A/N: Sorry if this chapter wasn't so good. I just wanted to get it out by tonight :(

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