You never realized how draining Lightning-bending was until you did it off-and-on for eight hours straight. Mako thought about quitting twenty-or-so times every day. He'd well-resigned himself by now to the fact that there was no way he would make 30,000 yuans in time for the tournament... but, then, the possibility of the prize money now gone meant that he needed some way to support himself and his brother, and he wasn't going to find better pay anywhere else in the city. Oh, well, at least his shift was at last over for today.

As he changed out of his uniform, the Firebender's only thought was how badly he wanted a hot shower when he got home... a wish that became unbearably more distant as he saw his trolley about to leave across the street. He ran for it. Bolin would never have let him hear the end of it if he could have seen him, after all the times his older brother had grabbed his arm and held him back when they were kids before lecturing him on the dangers of jaywalking, but it didn't matter – given the choice between risking breaking your neck or having to wait an extra fifteen minutes at the end of a long work day, no city dweller ever hesitated to choose the former.

The roar of an engine, a flash of black and silver, a powerful blow that sent him rolling across the pavement. Now he knew how the batteries he charged at the plant felt.

It took the world a second or two to stop spinning. When it did, Mako noticed that the sound of the engine was gone and replaced by footsteps hurrying toward him. He managed to struggle to his knees and check that his head was still attached to his shoulders by the time the biker reached him, panic in her voice: "Oh, no! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you!"

"How could you not see me? I mean, I was right in front of you!" He looked up as the girl removed her helmet, revealing a long, thick mane of shiny black hair and sparkling green eyes nonetheless full of concern. Fortunately for her, he was still too stunned from the impact to give her a real piece of his mind. He turned his neck and rubbed his head as he began inventorying what would feel sore tomorrow.

"Wow, that was..." he began to mumble to himself when he felt hands grab his arm and looked up to find her by his side. She penitently pulled him to his feet amidst rapid-fire questions. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Ugh, I'm such an idiot!"

She seemed more concerned about him than he was. He recovered enough by now to realize there was nothing to worry about. His deeply-rooted senses of pride and justice also wouldn't allow him to forget it was half his fault. He shouldn't let her beat herself up over it very long. He grinned and tried to sound nonchalant as he said, "Don't worry, I'm fine. My brother hits me harder than that every day in practice."

That seemed to calm her a little, although she continued to stand there quietly staring at him as he dusted himself off. Maybe she didn't believe him and intended to examine him for herself. Her next words, however, revealed an entirely different train of thought. "Wait, I-I recognize you... You're Mako, right? You play for the Fire Ferrets!"

This was a surprise; two orphaned street kids weren't exactly as accustomed to being recognized as the professionals from prestigious schools were. Even he wasn't recognized half as much as his charmer of a brother. Mako could picture Bolin in his situation, regaling the girl with the highlights of their season, telling his life story and getting hers almost in the same breath. He didn't have the patience for that, so he just ended her suspense by simply confirming, "Yeah, that's me."

She looked flustered again as she said, "Ugh, I am so embarrassed" and extended her hand to him. He took it to show there were no hard feelings. "My name's Asami," she continued. "Let me make this up to you somehow." She didn't give him any time to tell her that wasn't necessary before the "somehow" occurred to her. "Uh... how about I treat you to dinner? Tomorrow night, eight o'clock, Kuang's Cuisine."

She started walking away before he could explain why that was a ridiculous suggestion. He said matter-of-factly to her back, "Sorry – I don't have any clothes nice enough for a place that classy."

He turned to go now, too, thinking that was the end of it, but Asami replied, without missing a beat, "I'll take care of that." He turned back around with his eyebrow raised. She had put her helmet back on and adjusted her goggles as she explained, "All you need to do is show up. So... it's a date?"

Her smile seemed completely sincere; her tone was just as eager and friendly as it had been before his explanation. Why was she so determined just to "make this up to" him? She made it sound more like she'd be receiving a favor than giving one. He should still turn her down, of course; was a great meal worth subjecting himself to the pains of civility for an hour with a complete stranger, even one with such a welcoming smile?

But something about the respect Asami had shown him (respect he didn't get from many people) made him unwilling to disrespect her by walking away without another word. Her determination convinced him he couldn't walk away with any objection she wouldn't shoot down. So he might as well accept and have an interesting evening, if nothing else. He answered, without much enthusiasm but with much curiosity, "Yeah, I guess so. I'll see you tomorrow night."

He watched her with his arms folded and his brow furrowed in contemplation as Asami remounted her bike and rode away, trying to decipher the strange emotion that now overcame him. His long walk home was halfway over before he realized he was looking forward to her company.