Lighting the Pyre

"How could you do this to me?" he roared. Fire blazed from his parched lips and steam blanketed the couple under heady fumes. His eyes glinted something dangerous in the stark, white lighting of the room. He didn't care. The curtains he touched a mere moment ago lied tattered and singed. Let everything burn, he spit. For once, he did not reign in his temper. Let everyone see, let everyone see the crazed beast that I am.

She only watched him in silence. As always, she was the epitome of elegance. As frail and as pale as she was, she would always be beautiful to him. Tucked under white sheets that only served to make her look like a ghost, she sat up regally, owning the tacky bed as her throne. In defiance, she raised her chin proudly, a subtle gesture, yet he loved her evermore so for it.

"Asami, how could you do this to us?" There was nothing left in his bones. The fight was punched out of him by the sheer magnitude of the doctor's statement. Asami knew she was going to die. She had known of her impending death for a while now. The internal bleeding… he refused to believe it, threatening and scaring the doctor so badly, the hospital would have kicked his raging sailor's mouth out of the building if he and Asami didn't pay a shit load for only the best of professional staff. She deserved only the best.

He crumpled to his knees, hands buried into his matted hair. Silent sobs wracked his entire frame. How could she do this? he screamed internally. How could she do this to me?

Skin as soft as a baby's dream caressed his tears away.

"I love you, never forget that," Asami whispered to her lover. He breathed in her expensive orchid perfume and she breathed in his musky scent. She held him so sweetly. He clung to her, a lost child in a world of nightmares: she was his only salvation. She clung to him: her savior, her champion, her light. Resolutely, she acknowledged that nothing could save her now.

"Baby, you're my forever-boy," she whispered, attempting to make him smile. It only shattered his heart further. Little shards of him lay strewn across the labyrinth of life. He would never be able to traverse the maze without her by his side. He whimpered as he pulled her impossibly closer. They were supposed to be forever.

"I never wanted her if it meant losing you," he selfishly admitted, shamefully, brokenly. He didn't give a damn if he was being selfish; he didn't care that he basically wished their daughter dead in his moment of weakness. Burying himself into her warmth, her essence, he only needed Asami, his beautiful, loving wife. No one else. Only his Asami.

"Don't say that," she chided. Her resolve was breaking. "Didn't you want ten babies running around? You said…" She was starting to breathe heavily. "You said you wanted one in every corner of the mansion." She was coughing and wheezing, the words wrenched out of her with the conviction of a dying felon. "You said the house needed a liveliness that only little Makos and baby Asamis could bring. We both wanted that didn't we? Don't do this to me." She pleaded, "Don't do this to us." Her resolve was breaking, Mako felt the shivers escalating, rocking her body evermore violently.

"Asami?" he cried frantically. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I promise." His hysteria escalated as he spoke, "As many as you want. I'm sorry. Just stop. Please."

"One last gift," she whispered, "for the both of us." Her shivers intensified into bone cracking spasms. "I love you, champ." Her beautiful emerald eyes were barely visible from the white invading the spaces.

"No, no, no, no!" he shouted brokenly. "Asami? Asami!"

One last gift.

A high-pitched wail broke him out of his stupor. The pale moon still shone high above in the sky. It couldn't have been past three in the morning. Swallowing his pain, he robotically got out of bed and walked into the pinky, frilly, laced, room Asami had designed and Mako had painted. He cast out the painful memories. Instead, his tired gaze fixated on the fragile, wriggling form screeching her lungs out. Mako reached down into the crib and retrieved his frail offspring. Wearily, with delicate authority, he cradled her head to his collarbone. The screeching ended, and she cooed and palmed at his frayed wife beater. Mako's mouth quirked ever so slightly. Amber eyes collided with forest greens, a shade darker than her mother's.

I love you so much, Mako thought to his baby girl. He replayed that fateful day within his nightmare, he realized he forgot to say he loved her back.

'I love you champ.'

"I—I love you too baby."

He collapsed by the crib, his precious angel secure on his lap. The ache was unbearable. Everything about the tiny bundle he cherished in his hands brought him so much joy and so much pain. He crushed the baby to his heart and she cried alongside him, dismayed by her father's aura. He inhaled her light orchid scent. You're my forever, he promised.

My little Asami.


Thousands of miles away, in the Fire Nation capital

A guttural moan puffed out into the heated abyss.

"You like that, don't you?" a feminine voice whispered seductively. Her tongue languidly trailed down and littered kisses along his toned physique.

"—Ladies and gentlemen, we have brought to you today shocking news regarding and star champion Mako of the Fire Ferrets—"

"Ugh, turn that thing off," She whined, then teased, "I'm trying to have a little fun with my play toy."

"So does that guarantee that I get my turn to play afterwards?" her lover whispered suggestively.

She shivered in anticipation. "Later," she hissed.

"—Heiress Sato was pronounced dead, leaving her pro-bending husband to raise poor baby Asami the second as a single parent! She was pronounced dead at approximately—"

The trail towards her lover's treasure chest ceased. Deaf noise filtered through her ears as the announcer's gossip panel rambled on.

Asami was… dead?

"What?"

No, no. It wasn't this supposed to be like this. Her vision narrowed and blurred, a single droplet landing onto her calloused palm. Was she crying?

"I think the radio said this rich chick died," her lover remarked insensitively.

"Shut up for a second, Kenshin!"

"What?" Kenshin held up his hands defensively.

She swallowed, numbed. How did this happen? They were supposed to be happy, perfect, forever.

They deserved it.

"How—what happened?" She was so lost. So hurt. It wasn't supposed to be this fucked up! They were supposed to get married with this rich, extravagant wedding. They were supposed to settle down, they were supposed to make tons of love and pop out a ton of slobbery babies while still being ridiculously beautiful and successful. They loved each other so much.

"Babe—I'm really sorry your friend died or whatever. That really sucks! But… if you could just finish—"

"I've got to go."

"What?" he screeched, outraged and horny.

"Uh, sorry, babe. Avatar stuff."

"But—Korra!"

The door slammed and she was off sprinting. Putting on her robe haphazardly, she whistled for Naga.

Mako, she thought. Worry and angst etched across her face just thinking about how much he loved Asami, unconditionally and with such passion. He must be in so much pain.

Naga yipped and Korra expertly flipped onto her back like a bad ass, which she was.

It was time to pay a visit to Republic City.


Put on your proverbial boxing gloves, beat me up and critique. Please and thank you!

This is all for you. Just saying.

This chapter has been edited by my beta