Chapter Text
Mako
Mako sits at his desk at the precinct, ducking his head down, and hunching over his paperwork. He takes care with every penstroke, making sure the investigation report is thorough and meticulous. He has to, because he didn’t grow up getting a formal education—his handwriting can be sloppy or shaky if he doesn’t write slowly, and sometimes he loses his train of thought when he writes if he’s distracted by any imperfections in his handwriting. He’s very aware of the fact that he has a lot more to prove, being the rookie on the force. He doesn’t like to make mistakes.
He ignores the chatter of all the other detectives nearby—they never seem to mind their own business, but if Mako makes himself small and quiet enough, they sometimes forget he’s there.
It’s not that he dislikes them that much, or that he doesn’t want to make friends at work. Sure, they’re sort of lazy. And even though Mako sometimes struggles to read the room or blend in seamlessly to the social expectations in conversations, he can tell when they’re making fun of him. Honestly, it annoys Mako, but it’s not the worst of all the situations he’s been in through his life. He might have to make awkward small talk with his fellow detectives and endure them making thinly veiled jokes at his expense, but it’s better than his time working for the Triple Threats.
But Mako still avoids interacting with them if he can. Even when they feign interest, they don’t actually want to get to know Mako. They just want something to entertain them. They want to hear about his pro-bending days, or Bo’s movers, or what it was like dating the Avatar, or how he managed to get assigned to royal guard duty when he was just a rookie detective.
And it’s not like Mako has any interesting stories to entertain them. Not that Mako wants to be entertainment. But pro-bending was just a precarious living and his ticket off the streets. He kicked ass sometimes, and got his ass kicked other times. And Mako hadn’t really been that invested in Bolin’s short-lived mover career (especially considering he was in jail for most of it). And he doesn’t really want to talk about dating Korra, because it’s not like their relationship was sunshine and rainbows.
And he still doesn’t know how he got assigned to be a bodyguard to the heir to the Earth Throne. Chief Beifong always made it sound like Raiko requested him by name. Mako isn’t sure how that happened, but at least it’s all over and he’s just a detective again.
He just doesn’t really want to talk about it.
Mako’s so lost in thought that he’s completely tuned out the rest of the room—until a shrill ringing sound makes him startle. Spirits. He picks up his phone quickly, on high alert.
“Detective Mako,” he answers in a clipped, professional tone.
“Uh, you’ve got a visitor in the lobby—Excuse me, you can’t just barge in there—”
“Mako!” An upbeat voice resonates through the bullpen as the door from the lobby flies open, and Mako cringes in on himself. So much for keeping his head down. Nothing like a visit from His Royal Highness, King Wu to draw unwanted attention to himself. Wu strides forward toward Mako’s desk with a bright smile on his face.
“What are you doing here?” Mako asks, frowning.
“Didn’t you hear the receptionist? I’m visiting!” Wu says, taking a seat in the chair opposite Mako’s desk. He crosses his ankle over his knee and casually leans back in the chair. “It’s been ages since I was in Republic City and had any free time. One of my meetings with President Moon finished up early, so I thought I’d pay a visit to my best pal! Whaddya say? Let’s blow this joint and spend the night out on the town!”
Oh spirits. Best pal? Mako does not have the energy to deal with Wu’s insistence that they’re best friends.
“I’m working,” Mako says, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
“Well, yes, I can see that. But surely you’re off duty soon!”
“Uh, well…” Mako looks at the clock. He actually is supposed to be off duty soon. Not that he usually leaves work on time. “Look, you can’t just drop in on me like this and expect me to go party with you, or whatever. And besides, even if I’m off soon, I’m not exactly dressed for a ‘night out on the town’.” Mako throws up air quotes around Wu’s words and hopes it’s enough for Wu to back off.
“We’ll swing by your place so you can change!” Wu insists, undeterred by Mako’s excuses.
“Wu…” Mako bites his lip, trying to arrange his words in the correct order that will get Wu off his back.
“Oh, come on Mako!” a voice sounds from one of the desks on Mako’s right. “Don’t be such a flat tire, not everyone gets an invite to party with royalty!”
Mako glares at Detective Ujing, a tall man with grey hair and a lifetime of slacking under his belt. Ujing leans back in his chair casually with his feet up on his desk. He’s not exactly smug, but he’s definitely amused in a way that Mako does not like.
Well, damnit. Now Mako has to go with Wu, otherwise he’s going to be here at work and having to listen to his coworkers joke about how he’s so boring that he won’t even go party with the Earth King.
“Fine,” Mako says in a clipped tone. Wu’s face lights up, and Mako ignores the snickers coming from his fellow detective. “Where’s your security?” Mako asks, suddenly aware that Wu came in here alone.
Wu shrugs. “I dismissed them for the night. I’m always safe with my big, tough Mako!”
Mako huffs in irritation. It’s so Wu, to come in here and just assume Mako would want to join him for a ‘night on the town’, only to have it turn into a second job for Mako. So wherever Wu drags him this evening, he’ll have to be on guard because he’ll be the only person resembling a bodyguard accompanying the Earth King.
“What are you waiting for?” Wu stands up triumphantly, having gotten his way. “All that paperwork can wait til another day. Lets bounce!”
Mako sighs, resigning himself to an evening on unofficial bodyguard duty.
“I can’t believe I’ve never been here before!” Wu says excitedly as they cross the threshold into Mako’s apartment. “It’s so… Quaint!”
“I’m going to choose not to take that as an insult,” Mako says, unfastening the stays on his jacket and pulling it off to hang on his coat rack.
“It’s not! It’s a lovely little apartment. It’s nice!” Wu says defensively, then he meanders around, glancing at all the odds and ends that Mako and Bolin have accumulated over the years. Wu wanders over to the shelf and reaches out, running his fingers along the spines of the books propped against a bookend. “Wowzers! You’ve got quite the personal library here, buddy!”
“I’m borrowing most of them,” Mako says. “From Jinora and Air Temple Island’s library.”
“Wow, I have to say, I didn’t know you were such a book lover! I never saw you with a book when we’d go anywhere!”
“That’s because I was working,” Mako says, trying to contain his frustration. Wu always seems to do this—it’s like he forgets that Mako worked for him. Like he thinks all the time they spent together was just the two of them hanging out for fun.
“You could easily have brought a book with you when I was in meetings or at the spa or wherever,” Wu says casually, now examining the knick-knacks that Mako and Bolin have started putting on the bookshelf. He touches and fiddles around with each little item—a jar with a few seashells that Bolin had collected from the beach near Yue Bay, a little fire ferret figurine to commemorate their pro-bending days, that weird little NukTuk knitted plush one of Bolin’s fans made, and… “I mean, you if you swept the premises, and there were other security on site, you could easily have—”
“Don’t touch that!” Mako snaps quickly, grabbing Wu’s hand before it nudges into the worry stone Mako and Bolin had placed carefully in the center of the bookshelf.
Wu startles, his eyes fixed on where Mako is grabbing Wu’s wrist. Wu pulls his hand away, and Mako relaxes a little. He probably doesn’t need to be so protective, but the worry stone is the one thing he and Bo have left of their mother, and he doesn’t want Wu knocking it off the shelf. Mako adjusts his tone quickly, noticing Wu’s confused and surprised expression.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Mako exhales and relaxes slightly. “Just. Be careful with that.”
“Is it important?” Wu asks, and it’s kind of a ridiculous question, because why would Mako tell Wu to be careful if it wasn’t important? Mako hesitates, though, because if he explains why it’s important, it will open up a whole can of beetle worms that Mako really doesn’t want to get into with Wu right now—Mako’s still processing everything he learned about Mom, about the work she did helping people, about how she paid for doing that work with hers and Dads lives…
“Just a family heirloom,” Mako says, hoping that’s enough to keep Wu off his quiet about it. “Not all of us inherit chests of finery from our families, you know.”
Wu’s face falls slightly, and Mako feels guilty instantly. Why does Wu manage to get him feeling that way these days? He shakes it off. Mako probably just feels bad for everything that happened in Gaoling. Not that anything in Gaoling had been Mako’s fault, exactly. But he had promised that he would keep Wu safe (well, not that just Mako would keep Wu safe… That everyone on Team Avatar would keep Wu safe.) and Wu had been decidedly not safe. So he’s probably just feeling bad about it and it’s making him more weak-willed to Wu’s displays of hurt feelings.
Mako softens his tone. “It’s just… Something from my Mom. That’s all. You can look, just… Be careful.”
Wu’s tense body relaxes. Mako’s guilt fades as he sees Wu usual energy return with a smile. Mako doesn’t stop Wu this time as he reaches for the stone and picks it up with delicate care.
“It’s cute!” Wu says, turning it over in his fingers. “It looks like a little bird. What is it?”
“They call it a worry stone. My mom gave it to Bo when we were little.” Mako says, keeping the emotion out of his voice. Don’t ask me for more details, Mako thinks to himself. He doesn’t want to talk about Penquan Island right now.
Wu doesn’t ask for more details, thank the spirits. He just holds it close and examines every tiny detail on the stone. His moss-colored eyes are sharp and focused as he furrows his brows slightly, causing a little crinkle at the top of nose.
“I’m gonna go change,” Mako says, finally changing the subject. He plucks the worry stone out from Wu’s fingers and puts it back on the shelf. “Try not to mess with anything, okay?”
Mako doesn’t wait for Wu to answer. He turns on his heel and hurries to his room.
He shuts the door, taking a deep breath and warding off the sudden ache at thoughts of his mother. Spirits, he misses her. He hoped that getting answers about her death would help him move on, but it’s just as bad as ever. He thinks of her long, black hair, how she’d pull it half up in the mornings when getting ready for the day, about the melodic laugh that would erupt from her mouth anytime Dad made a joke, about the way she’d taught him him to control his fire bending and use it for good things…
Mako finishes getting dressed in his more comfortable slacks and his trusty jacket that he’s worn and mended over the years. He steps back into the living room—No Wu in sight. For a split second, Mako feels a pit in his stomach as some worst-case-scenarios all flash through his mind.
“Oh, wow! There’s a lot of NukTuk on the walls in here!” Wu says, his voice echoing in from the kitchen. Mako breaths a sigh of relief. No need to panic. Wu is here, safe and sound. And staring at Bolin’s NukTuk posters hanging up on the kitchen walls, apparently.
“Yeah,” Mako says awkwardly. “He really likes those posters.”
“Did he sign this one?” Wu says, barely containing a giggle. “He signed a poster of himself and hung it up on his own wall?”
Mako rolls his eyes and chooses not to answer Wu’s rhetorical question. He’s about to interrupt Wu’s invasion of his kitchen, but then Wu’s eyes trail to the opposite wall.
“Oh! Is this your family?” Wu pads over to the family portrait up on the wall by the window. He gets close and blinks a few times as his eyes trail over the four figures in the photos. “Oh Mako, you were just a baby! Look at how little you are!”
“Wu…” Mako says, hesitating. He’s not sure what to say—if he should just let Wu take his time scrutinizing the only tangible image Mako has of his parents before tragedy struck, or if he should divert Wu and avoid the topic altogether.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk about it at all, it’s just that it’s so fresh. He’d thought he’d accepted his parent’s death a long time ago, but learning about his mother seemed to rip open the old wound, more painful than ever.
“Wow, you really have your mom’s eyes!” Wu continues, oblivious to Mako’s discomfort—that’s nothing unusual. Wu never paid much attention to Mako’s comfort in all the time they’d known each other. Wu turns back to Mako, then back to the photo, to Mako, then back again, “And you definitely have your dad’s mouth!”
Mako furrows his brows. Does he? He’s never noticed that detail. Maybe he’s never compared himself in the mirror to the photo of Dad. Maybe if he did, he’d see it too.
“I mean, it’s not a surprise,” Wu continues, “Your dad looks like your grandma, I can see that clearly, and I’ve always thought I could see the resemblance between you and her, too.”
“I don’t know,” Mako says, folding his arms over his chest. “Maybe. I’ve never thought about it.”
“Well I have, and I can see it quite clearly!” Wu whips his body around and smiles brightly at Mako. “You’ve got the best traits of both of them! Hey, why do you have so much karashi on the counter?” Wu abruptly changes the subject as his eyes trail over to the countertop where Mako has stacked up the excess jars of karashi he was pressured into buying.
“Okay,” Mako says, putting a stop to Wu’s rambling tangents. “Where did you want to go? We should head out, we’re losing daylight and I don’t want to have to escort you to the Four Elements in the middle of the night.”
“Oh, I’m not at the Four Elements, I’m at the Roku Plaza Hotel,” Wu says, waving his hand dismissively. “But you know what, we don’t have to do anything crazy tonight. Why don’t we just grab a bite to eat? And maybe get a smoothie after?”
“I thought you wanted to do a ‘night on the town’?” Mako asks, raising an eyebrow. “I figured you want to… I don’t know. Go dancing. Or something.”
“Nah, I don’t really feel like dancing,” Wu says, suddenly moving into Mako’s personal space. He reaches his hands out and grips Mako by both shoulders, giving Mako the tiniest little shake. “I just want to spend some quality time with my friend! Just like the good old days! But hey, if you really wanna go out and party, hit a couple clubs, see if we can find a couple-a pretty dames to dance with, then we—”
“No, no,” Mako interrupts, shaking his head quickly. “Dinner and smoothies is fine with me. Let’s do that.” Mako is not interested in watching Wu make an idiot out of himself by flirting with every girl at the Upper Ring Club or wherever he might decide to take Mako to meet some dames. And he definitely isn’t interested in Wu trying to set him up to dance with any of those girls either.
Wu blinks in surprise, then a wide grin spreads on his face. “You got it, big guy! Oh, say, maybe we can catch a mover, too! There’s this new one that just came out, Sengo: Lady of the Winds, it’s supposed to be a spiritual successor to the NukTuk movers, but I’ve heard it’s good on its own merits and you don’t have to know anything about the NukTuk movers to enjoy it and…”
Mako bites back his reply. Dinner and a mover and smoothies. Mako can handle Wu for a few hours like that. He’ll get a decent meal out of it, and Wu’s usually quiet at the movers, aside from his dramatic, gasping reactions to all the action scenes, romantic confessions, and plot twists.
Mako lets Wu grab him by the arm and lead him out the door.
Dinner is fine. It’s one of those more upscale, ritzy restaurants that Mako can’t actually afford on his own paycheck, but he’s more than happy to let Wu foot the bill. One thing Mako will never do is turn down a free meal—after too many years worrying about where his next meal would come from, he’s never too proud to let someone else feed him. The thing that drives him crazy is that there’s less food for more money—something about the plating and garnishes and presentation being what you pay extra for, and not, you know, the actual food.
But Mako eats carefully and quickly, doing his best to avoid poor table manners. He likes to think he learned very well from Asami when it comes to eating in a fine dining establishment. No matter how much he’d like to be devouring the food, he always takes his time and uses the correct utensils. But he also tries to eat quickly because the faster his food is gone, the less chance there is of someone noticing him eating and making the inevitable etiquette mistake.
The mover is not very good, but it’s entertaining, at least. Mako absently wonders how Bolin might feel knowing this mover is supposedly the spiritual successor to his own work as NukTuk. He wonders how Korra might feel, seeing the airbending protagonist in a skimpy, not-even-close to traditional facsimile of an airbender’s robes and riding on a poorly disguised Sabertooth Moose that’s supposed to be Sengo’s sky bison—did Korra really change the world, bring spirits and humans together, and restore the Air Nation after a century of teetering on the brink of genocidal extinction; only to have airbending exploited by a film studio to make money of a cheaply made mover?
Mako probably shouldn’t worry about those things. He should just be grateful Wu is quietly enjoying the show.
Wu yanks Mako around afterwards, urging him toward a smoothie cafe with outdoor seating. “Oh, this place is great, you’re gonna love it!” Wu insists, leading Mako to a chair and practically slamming the smoothie in front of Mako on the table.
Wu takes his seat and sips on his smoothie. It’s not that easy to see, since the skyscrapers in the downtown part of Republic City obscure his view of the horizon, but Mako can feel that the sun is finally getting low and ready to transition to night time. Hopefully Wu has had his fun for the night and they can wrap up this ‘night on the town’ so Mako can go to bed.
“Say,” Wu says after a sip. “You never told me you went to your mother’s home island.”
Mako blinks at Wu in confusion. “How do you know about it?” Mako says. He doesn’t mean it to sound accusatory, but it comes out that way.
Wu’s face falls, and Mako feels another pang of guilt. Why on earth does he feel guilty when Wu makes that face?
“Your brother mentioned it,” Wu says, his voice small and defensive. “I saw him at City Hall when I was meeting with Zhu Li. He was so excited about it! I guess I thought you’d tell me all the details, but you’re all clammed up!”
“You never asked,” Mako says in frustration. He hates it when people play all these little social games with him. How is he supposed to read someone’s mind and know that they want him to volunteer very specific information about himself?
“Well, no, but…” Wu falters. “I just thought… maybe you’d want to tell me.”
“Well, what did Bolin tell you?” Mako asks. Knowing Bolin, he probably regaled every detail to anyone who would listen.
“Not much,” Wu says sincerely. “It’s not like we had a lot of time to gab. Just that you took time off work and went, and it had something to do with a missing person case. He did tell me you found the missing person! But that’s it, after he mentioned that, Zhu Li needed him. I mean, Mako, seeing your mom’s home is a big deal, right? I wanna hear all about it!”
Mako shifts uncomfortably in his seat. It definitely is a big deal. Learning more about his mother had been monumental. But telling Wu about it feels… frightening.
Why?
Mako thinks back to when he’d divulged the details of his less-than-honorable actions when his confused feelings had pulled him back and forth between Korra and Asami. Telling Wu about it had been nerve-wracking in a way that Mako still doesn’t understand. Wu had always seemed to think of Mako as being some kind of hero-cop, a moralistic do-gooder. And when he’d defensively admitted his failings in his personal relationships, Wu’s attitude toward Mako seemed to shift. Kind of rude there, buddy! That’s harsh, Mako.
Mako’s not sure why he cared… Why he still cares—whatever Wu thinks of him hardly has any bearing on Mako’s life.
Besides, talking about Penquan Island isn’t anything like telling Wu about his break ups. But it still feels like he’s bearing his soul and putting himself on display. It’s an uncomfortable feeling.
“Mako?” Wu blinks, tipping his head in curiosity. “Did I lose you there?”
“It was good, seeing her home. But she left it behind for a reason,” Mako says carefully. “The Sheriff was corrupt and had backwards traditional ideals. My mom… She wasn’t allowed to bend because she was a woman,” Mako says in a voice that’s quieter than he means it to be.
“What?” Wu’s eyebrows shoot up in shock. “That’s incredibly stupid! There have been a lot of powerful firebenders who are women. What an absolute jerk!”
Mako swallows back a lump in his throat. “Yeah. He also conscripted boys into the police force as soon as they started showing signs of bending. Whether they wanted to or not…”
Wu’s face falls. “That’s awful,” he says, leaning forward. “I mean, don’t most people start bending pretty young?”
“Yeah,” Mako says, averting his eyes and focusing on the smoothie cup instead of Wu’s worried frown. “She came to Republic City after her parents died. It wasn’t easy for her—the Sheriff made it difficult to leave. And then… She helped other people leave too… and then…”
Wu leans forward, like he’s enraptured by Mako’s words. “... And then…?” Wu says, almost in a whisper.
“He sent someone to… take care of her…” Mako feels his throat constrict around the lump suddenly threatening his composure. His next words come out quiet and strained. “I always thought it was a mugging, I always thought it was just random or bad luck, but it wasn’t, my mom, and my dad, they were…”
Murdered. He can’t even say the word out loud.
Mako feels the hot anger rising up inside of him. It’s still enough to send him into a rage-fueled frenzy. Helping, all Mom had done was help people. And that sorry excuse for a sheriff had the fucking nerve to have her murdered, and Dad too, and Mako watched it happen, he was helpless and small and terrified and he had to watch while Mom and Dad—
Mako’s thoughts halt when he feels Wu’s palm touch the back of his hand. Wu gently clasps his hand around Mako’s and it’s weird, how comforting it is. The simple touch brings him back to the here and now, though time seems to freeze time for a moment. Mako notices the way Wu’s fingertips are soft against Mako’s own rough skin—his scars from the spirit vine weapon snake up from his forearm to his fingertips, leaving a rough texture; while Wu’s hands are like velvet, neatly manicured and cared for in ways that Mako never has never considered caring for his own hands. Wu’s touch sort of feels electric, but not in the way that Mako generates lightning, more like a tingling buzz that prickles his skin when a thunderstorm moves in.
And then time moves again, and Wu’s comforting touch is overshadowed by his outrage. “Mako, that’s horrible, I’m so sorry, what happened to him? What did you do, did you—”
“The capital city is dealing with him,” Mako answers calmly, his anger having subsided. “I almost got in trouble with Beifong because this was kind of an off the books thing and I didn’t exactly, uh… get permission to go investigate the missing person… But once the central Fire Nation law enforcement officials were notified of what had been happening on the island, they took him in. He’s going to stand trial, I think.”
“I’m really sorry,” Wu says, his voice getting frantic. “I didn’t know all that happened when I asked you to tell me about it, if I’d known I wouldn’t have pestered you so much, and—”
“It’s fine, Wu,” Mako says, and just like that, they both pull their hands away from one another. Mako’s hand still feels tingly where Wu had touched him. “I just… I don’t really want to talk about it any more…”
“Right, of course! Uhm, well..” Wu’s eyes are wide and frazzled as he searches for his words. “Oh! How about the special effects of that mover tonight, huh? Crazy stuff! I wonder if they had any real airbenders doing stunts or anything behind the scenes? Because the actress that plays Sengo isn’t a bender, but there was some believable windy-stuff happening, you know? But I guess it could have just been industrial fans…”
Wu frantically prattles on with his sudden shift to the topic of mover production logistics, and Mako feels weirdly grateful. Wu can be oblivious and dense and he’s never really noticed when Mako was uncomfortable, but he definitely seems to be paying better attention to Mako’s moods these days. He seems genuinely apologetic for coercing Mako into divulging the details about his mother. He actually listened to Mako, and didn’t try to get him to talk more.
Must be all that responsibility; it’s made him more… Careful? Thoughtful? Empathetic? Mako’s not sure, he can’t quite put a finger on what exactly changed, but Wu is different now from when Mako first met him.
It’s not so bad, Mako decides. He definitely doesn’t want to be Wu’s best pal, but it’s not so bad spending time with him. Not any more.