A/N: Written for Makorra Month; I posted it to my newly-created tumblr a few days ago but thought I'd upload it here, too. :)


He didn't like this.

Bolin had run ahead of him, despite Mako's warning—"Don't get too far ahead, Bo," and now Mako was worried sick. A giant hedge maze wasn't the best place for a seven-year-old to be exploring on his own, and the thought of Bolin running into a dead-end made Mako clench his fists. Ahead of him, he could hear rustling and laughter.

The party was some big affair, thrown by some affluent businessman. Mako had caught a glimpse of the host's daughter earlier. She had pretty green eyes and wavy black hair, but she'd run off to play with the other girls wearing fancy dresses.

Mako looked down at his scuffed, worn sneakers and sighed. He pulled his red scarf tighter around his neck. His dad had given it to him on his seventh birthday, and he wore it as a badge of honor.

Come to think of it, where were his parents?

It was too late to wonder now. Mako had already entered the maze. The dark green leaves rose up from all sides, obscuring his view. He inched along the worn dirt path, careful, contemplating, documenting every turn in his mind. He knew that the maze wasn't dangerous and there was a chopper flying ahead to pull out any lost children who didn't make it out by the end of the day, but the thought didn't put his mind at ease. The sound of the blades whirring in the air grated at his nerves.

Find Bolin, was his only thought.

He came to a dilemma when a wall of thick leaves loomed in front of him. A path stretched off to the left. Another stretched to the right.

Mako pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He was nine years old, frustrated, and at a crossroads.

And he didn't know where his troublesome younger brother was.

After a beat, he took the path to the right, not noticing as a tiny loop of thread from the end of his scarf snagged the end of a twig.


This was fun.

Korra bounded along happily, her blue eyes bright with excitement as she stared down the challenge in front of her. The dark leaves were dense, but she was undaunted. She was eight and unbeatable, and a few walls of leaves weren't going to stop her.

She shuffled through the pathways delightedly, taking them at random and hoping that there'd be some sort of surprise. She was disappointed, however, with every turn she took. Then, up ahead, she caught a glimpse of red.

Well, that was new.

Korra hurried forwards, peering at the brambles. It looked like some sort of red string was caught in them.

Her mind jumped ahead in leaps and bounds. Maybe this was a special pathmarker to some sort of hidden treasure! Who knew?

She looked around the bend. Sure enough, the red line continued on, caught up in the leaves. It was faint, but it was there.

She followed it.


There was something behind him.

Mako's ears picked up the sound and he halted. The noise behind him didn't. The sound of light footsteps padded towards him, closer and closer.

He couldn't decide whether he wanted whoever was behind him to catch up or not, so he stayed in his spot. Maybe it was Bolin.

The footsteps had almost made the turn now, and Mako took a breath before spinning around.

He looked into the biggest, bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

The girl stared back at him, blinking, her brown hair tied up in a short ponytail.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice coming out guarded.

The girl grinned widely. "I'm Korra," she said sweetly, before tilting her head. "Who are you?"

"Mako," he answered, before glancing at her hand and—wait, was that— "What's that?" he asked, frantic.

Korra looked down, surprised, before holding it up to the light. "It's some red string. I followed it here, but now it seems to stop and…" she trailed off, her eyes landing on his scarf. "Oh," she said, her pink mouth a tiny 'o' of surprise.

"That's part of my scarf!" hissed Mako, moving forward and snatching the wispy strand from Korra's hand. He pulled at it, and another bit of the fraying end of his scarf unraveled. He paled.

Korra noticed the look on his face. "What's the matter?" she asked, peering up at him with those big blue eyes of hers. "Can't you get a new one?"

Mako glared at her. She looked better off than he was—he could tell from her clean, frilly white socks and her clothes, the fabric well-worn but still new. He didn't expect her to understand. Money was hard to come by for his family, and besides, it wasn't just a matter of replacing something old with something new—this item had a special meaning. "It's a birthday present," he answered. "From my dad. So, no, I can't get a new one. But I can't go on like this, because it'll keep unraveling."

Korra studied him. Her blue eyes were disorienting because they were so wide and so…discerning. Mako stood uncomfortably, pinned by her gaze.

Finally, she spoke. "Give it here," she said, holding out a hand, and before Mako had time to respond, she stepped forward and snatched the string out of his fingers.

"Hey!" Mako protested just as Korra stuck the string into her mouth. He watched with equal parts revulsion and fascination as her hands gripped either side of the thread and she bit down, effectively cutting off the loose thread.

"There," she proclaimed, puffing out her chest the tiniest bit. She put her hands on her hips and looked him up and down before patting his scarf gently. "It's all better. You can't even see where it came loose."

"I…" He ran his fingers over the scarf absentmindedly and stared at her, at a loss for words.

"Well then, let's go!" Korra said cheerfully, grabbing his arm out of nowhere and pulling him along.

Mako tried to dig his heels into the ground, but it was no use. He was helpless against the tide, and in a single, flashing moment, he understood that it was no use to fight this whirlwind of a girl. He grit his teeth and stumbled along after her.

This girl is crazy.