A/N: I'm not the only one psyched to find out about Mako's past, am I? Anyway, I came up with this to shed some fanon light on Mako's background. This will (hopefully) become a small series of connected oneshots, (hopefully) chronological, and (hopefully) enjoyable. Do tell me what you think! :D
Disclaimer: I don't own Legend of Korra, nor do I own Mako (sadly). Gasp.
Also, I apologize for any typos. also doesn't like interrobangs. -_-
Bending Isn't Always a Blessing: Part One
"Dad! Dad! Dad dad dad dad!" The excited little cries of the young, hyper child rang through the small house. Bright, golden eyes were alight with excitement, and the beaming, gap-toothed smile said more than words could. Seven year old Mako bounded into the small room—just a bit larger than a cupboard, really—and tackled his dad.
His dad let out a small cry of surprise and quickly caught Mako to make sure that he didn't hurt himself—or his precious documents. Glasses askew, the young man who had gray hair amongst his predominantly black and wrinkles beyond his years smiled down at his son, raising an eyebrow in question.
"Well, you're in high spirits today! What's up?" Achin asked with a small smile, ruffling his son's dark hair which so resembled his own, making it messier than it all ready was.
"Guess what!" Mako exclaimed excitedly.
"What?"
"You have to guess, daddy!" Mako insisted.
Achin chuckled slightly, shaking his head at his son's antics. He raised his hands in an "I surrender!" gesture.
"All right, all right! Did…did you win against Bolin in a game?"
A shake of the head was given on his guess, anticipation evident on the boy's face.
"No? Hmm…did you read a new book?"
Another shake of the head.
"Did your favorite team win the pro-wrestling championship? The Fantastic Lionturtles, was it?"
"No!" he said impatiently. "And it's the Fierce Lionturtles, not the Fantastic Lionturtles, dad," he explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and then made a face. "Besides, Fantastic Lionturtles sounds so lame."
Achin scratched his head, wondering what else could get his young boy so excited.
"Well, I give up. What is it?"
Mako, who was now too impatient to play the guessing game with his father, couldn't hold the news in any longer.
"I'm a firebender, daddy!" he blurted out loudly, the same gap-toothed smile on his face, gleaming with joy.
Achin, on the other hand, seemed frozen in shock, a look of horror on his face. One hand gripped the edge of the stool he was sitting on and his eyes were wide with dread.
It wasn't that he was disappointed or sad or revolted; no, he was afraid. Terrified, actually, about the fact that his son was in danger.
His son was in danger, and it was all because of him. Because of a silly, idiotic mistake he had made a couple of years ago, his son was in danger.
Oh, Spirits, what was he to do?
"Daddy…?" Mako called, concern creeping its way into his voice. Why was his father acting so odd? Wasn't this a good thing…?
Still, Achin was in the same position. Possibilities of what could happen if someone found out, if they found out, were running through his head.
This was the first time that he had completely, utterly, truly regretted joining the Equalists on a whim.
[flashback]
"So, you got mah money, Achin? Ya know I'm an impatient man. I might accidentally burn down your little shop if mah temper gets outta control," the man leered, a nasty smirk on his face as he threatened Achin. Achin gritted his teeth in anger and glared back.
He was thankful for the fact that this wasn't happening near his shop, where his kids could see their father in this embarrassing, mortifying position, but he was also apprehensive about the fact that he was somewhere where he had never been before. A brick wall stared at him a few meters to his left, and the emptiness and silence of the night made it so that he could hear both his own and the breathing of the man in front of him. There wasn't a soul around besides the two of them, which meant no witnesses to whatever heinous deed Yung Ho had in store for him.
"I don't have any damn money, Yung Ho! You took all of it last time!" he shouted back, his temper getting the better of him. "Why can't you just leave me the hell alone?"
"Well, ya obviously got some money, dontcha?You got clothes on yo' back, food on the table, and two little kiddies as well, huh?" he asked, the smirk never fading, and then he suddenly adopted a fake sympathetic expression. "Y'know, something could happen to those poor, defenseless little kiddies. Such a cruel, cruel world we live in. 'M sure y'know that."
Achin felt the terror bubble up in him, but more than that, there was a fiery, hot, swirling rage. How dare this bastard threaten his only family? How dare he!
Dammit, he wanted to scratch his stupid, idiotic face off.
Yung Ho, seeing Achin's anger plain on his face, smirked again. All he had to do was to wait for Achin to attack and he could finish him off.
Self-defense laws were such a wonderful thing.
"DON'T YOU DARE HURT THEM!" Achin roared, flinging himself at Yung Ho, sick and tired of being pushed around, fed up with him.
In his fit of rage, he didn't see the small smirk on Yung Ho's face, nor the smug gleam in his eyes. He did see the small spark of flame, though, and belatedly, he realized what he had done.
He was going to die. Right here, right now, his life would end—all because he couldn't keep a check on his temper. It wasn't that he was afraid of dying—it's not like he had much worth living for—but he was terrified about what would happen to his boys after his death.
How could a young boy of five and his younger brother of three handle living on the streets? How could they survive without him? Dammit, if he was going down, he was taking the bastard in front of him down with him. A feral cry sprung out of his lungs, and he decided that he wouldn't die unless Yung Ho was dead.
He saw the spark of fire spring into a living, breathing, jumping flame, and, as if in slow motion, he saw it come toward him. He had just gotten a taste of the fire on his bare right arm—oh, Spirits, it was agony—when thud.
There was a blow to his right side and he felt the air rush out of him in a single breath. His left side hit the brick wall that was erect near him, and a small groan escaped his lips.
There was a bright flash of blue—was that electricity?—and he heard Yung Ho scream in agony, followed by another small thud.
And then, there was silence. Nothing but his own rasping breath could be heard.
He blinked a few times to help him focus his hazy sight and slowly lifted his head. What…what had just happened?
Swiveling his head to his right, taking extra care to not enflame his still-hurting right arm, he suddenly saw Yung Ho. He saw Yung Ho as he had never seen him before.
Yung Ho's dark blue eyes, usually glinting with malice, were open wide in shock and terror. His mouth was slightly agape and an expression of fear encompassed his face, which was tilted slightly to the left. His body was stock still, his palms lying face down on the ground, and his arms were resting by his side. His chest wasn't moving and he was quickly losing color.
In the flash of an eye, there was a man in front of him clothed in a dark jumpsuit-type of clothes. There were some odd goggles hiding his eyes and a dark ski mask covering half his face, a weird, pointy-and-limp, black mustache on his face, reminding Achin of noodles. In his hands, he had two long, congruent sticks with an odd blue coloring at the front.
"Who…who are you…?"
"I am the Lieutenant." His voice was crisp, clipped, and to-the-point, deep and commanding. It was obvious that he was a no-nonsense man, and his whole body was held attentive and rigid.
"Why did you save me?" Achin was sitting up now, cradling his injured arm against his chest. The Lieutenant, huh? He'd have to find out a bit more.
"What was happening was unjust. I do not like benders lording their power over non-benders."
"Well, thank you," Achin said sincerely, and then looked up at him once more. "If you don't mind me asking, though, why are you called 'the Lieutenant'?"
He looked Achin over once, giving him what Achin guessed was a critical once-over, and then opened his mouth.
"I am called the Lieutenant because that is who I am. I am second-in-command for a new emerging movement—it is called 'Equalism'. We stand for equal treatment of both non-benders and benders, calling for the punishment of all these horrible, idiotic fools that are only above us because they were given a so-called 'gift'…we are treated unfairly. We Equalists stand against the unfairness. We have but one goal in mind—the equal treatment of everyone. Would you like to join us, Achin?"
Achin stared at the Lieutenant in wonder.
"Wh-what?"
"Did you perhaps not understand me? I am offering you a place with the Equalists. To finally try to equalize the world."
"I…" Achin licked his lips. "Why would you want me to join?"
"We are a fairly new movement, as you know. So, we need new members. Members that can recruit new members, and so forth. Right now, we are willing to take anyone with a thirst for justice."
"And you think that I…?"
"That you have that thirst?" he finished for Achin. "Yes."
Achin wondered about the opportunity being offered. Should he take this opportunity? How many times had he wanted to strike back, to obtain fairness, to serve justice?
But Achin hesitated. He had children. After his wife's death during Bolin's birth, he was the only family they had left.
"I would love to…but I have children. I have children that need me and they come before a movement. I'm…I'm sorry."
Achin felt terrible about refusing this kind man's offer. After he had saved his life, too! But this had to be done.
"Exactly. You have children. Are they benders?" Achin shook his head. "Which means that they will be treated just as poorly as you are by these thugs. Are you willing to subject your children to the same brutality? Are you going to completely abandon your children?"
"I—no, that's not true!"
"It is. And you know it."
Achin glared at the man, angry at the fact that he was blaming him for abandoning his children. He would never do anything like that! But then he remembered how he had almost died because he had let his anger get the better of him, and he decided the think about what he was saying. Was he willing to abandon his children? To subject to the same lifestyle as his?
No, he would do anything, anything, for his children. Even if it meant joining this "Equalist" movement.
"How do I know whether you're serious? That this is not a joke?" he asked.
For the first time, the semblance of a small smile graced the man's features.
"Have a little faith, Mr. Achin. I assure you, you won't be disappointed."
[end flashback]
Achin had decided that he would have a little faith and had joined the group. At first, it felt amazing. The feeling of fighting, of rebelling, was ecstatic. He felt as if he was doing something good, something worthwhile.
And then, the ecstasy wore off. He saw the truth. These men weren't after equity—they were extremists. They would hurt, torture, kill benders, even if they weren't a threat, with the reason that they would become a threat anyway given. It would be better to kill them before they could realize their "true nature"—before they could start suppressing the non-benders.
It was revolting.
Worst of all, though, was the single-most important rule: to join, you could have no bender family—either you were killed, or they were. They couldn't let you go once you had joined because the government was after them and once you left, you were a threat. A threat that was better off eliminated.
Of course, all of this inside information was not told to those that were being recruited. Only once you were in was all the information revealed. They also had methods of making sure that no one inside the movement could get the information out—no one but the ones chosen for the job of recruiting, of course.
And now, his son was a bender.
"Daddy…?" Mako asked once more, a small quiver to his voice. "Aren't you proud of me? Is it a bad thing? Daddy?"
The small voice snapped Achin out of his daze and he forced himself to keep the terror at bay. He hugged his son tightly, kissing him on top of his head, and then smiled down at him, controlling his emotions.
"Of course not!" he cried. "I'm so proud of you! A firebender, huh? That's great! Just promise me one thing."
Mako, who was overjoyed at the prospect that his dad was proud of him, dismissed his dad's odd behavior moments earlier. Who cared if he had been acting weird? He was back to normal now, and he was proud!
"What?" Mako asked.
"Don't show anyone, all right?" Achin knew that, if anyone else found out his son was a bender, they would find out. And if they found out, they would take his precious son away from him. He would not—no, he could not allow that.
"Why?"
"Well, at least not until you're good at it! Who knows what people might do? What if you accidentally burn someone? Then no one would want to play with you since they would be afraid of you."
"Really?" Mako asked incredulously.
"Really," Achin repeated solemnly.
Mako nodded in understanding, as serious as a seven-year-old could get. Not only would they not want to play with him, people might also get jealous. Mako was sure that their fathers weren't proud of them because they were benders like his was.
"Can I tell Bolin?" Mako asked after his dad had ruffled his hair and a few moments of silence had passed.
Achin pondered the question for a few seconds.
"I…don't think so," he said slowly, and at his son's dismayed look, he added quickly, "not until he's your age, at least."
"So I can tell Bo in—" he screwed up his face as he calculated "—two years?"
"Yes," Achin replied hesitantly, afraid his son would refuse. "But only for a while. He might tell someone, you see. He's not as mature and responsible as you are."
Mako nodded slowly. It was true—he was the more mature and responsible sibling; he was older, after all.
"All…right," he said slowly, "but I'm telling him as soon as I can!"
Achin smiled softly. "Of course you can, kiddo." He gazed at Mako lovingly and suddenly hugged him tightly.
"I'm not letting anyone take you," he whispered.
Mako blinked, utterly confused. He pulled away, looking up at his father questioningly.
"Daddy…am I going somewhere? Is someone taking me?" he asked, childish innocence gleaming in his curious eyes.
"No, son. No one's going anywhere," Achin answered resolutely.
No one was taking his son. No one.
