Mako's Sacrifice
An alternate ending of the Legend of Korra in which Mako does not survive the spirit vine ordeal.
In that moment, it just clicked. He knew.
"Look, the only thing I know about these vines is that if you mess with them too much, they explode!" Bolin said with undeniable urgency. Mako looked at the spirit vines hissing with frantic energy, remembering the reaction they had when his fire swerved. That was fire only strong enough to knock down a person. What more if he generated lightning? He would be able to destroy the whole machine, but with a grave cost. With his heart sinking, he looked back again at the vines. Of course part of him wanted to back out, to take the selfish path and live. But as the seconds ticked he slowly sank into acceptance.
"Get those engineers out of here, I have an idea," with those words spoken in steely determination, he sealed his fate.
"Wanna fill me in?" his brother asked.
"I'm gonna zap these vines with some electricity," he said with as much resolve as he could muster, looking straight into his brother's shocked eyes.
"Let's back it up, okay," Bolin said defiantly, half-angry that he would even suggest such a thing, "I said that would make the vines explode!" He emphasized the words, letting his emotions seep through.
"Exactly!" replied Mako. "This is the only way of shutting this thing down." He tried to swallow down the strain on his resolve; he tried not the listen to his survival instincts taunting him. But his acceptance of the situation was stronger than his fear, like his heartbeat was louder than the little bits of anxiety spread throughout his being.
"I can handle it," he said, and with a slight sense of finality, he turned his back on his brother. Just as soon as he did though, he felt a hand on his shoulder stopping him, beckoning him to look back again. Mako faced Bolin's petrified eyes. "You can't!" Bolin yelled with an almost equaling resolve.
"This isn't the time to show people how awesome you are," Bolin said, no, more like pleaded, "I already know how awesome you are! You're awesome!"
"I don't have time to argue! I'm doing this!" Mako yelled, his determination no longer faltering. "So get out of here!"
His order makes Bolin's eyes sink. "Okay," he replies, his tone still not approving, "but for the recorded I do not approve. Just –" he paused, getting ready to make what could be his final plea to his brother, "just, get out as soon as you can."
They locked eyes, their expressions raw. "Promise?" Bolin asked, despite knowing the possibilities, despite knowing that it could easily be an empty promise. That would be out of Mako's hands. It would be in fate's hands. Mako knew this too, and his heart stung with sadness. But he still looked over at his brother, took his hand, and said, "Promise."
They hugged. "I love you," Bolin said, knowing it might well be the very last time he ever gets to say it, the very last time he ever gets to hold his brother in his arms.
"I love you, too. Now go!" Mako demanded, to which Bolin complied. I accept my fate, he repeats to himself in his head, strengthening his will. Bolin began to carry the guards out, and took what could be his last look at his brother. He was already generating lightning, his face set into concentration. To generate lightning, one must empty themselves with emotion, he remembered.
There was no more time to wallow in the certainty of death. Lightning crackled at Mako's command. He aimed it at the spirit vines, which, as he'd hoped, reacted violently again. He kept the lightning coming, though it was taking the vines longer to fully disintegrate.
The destruction of the vines didn't come in one big explosion as he had thought – the vines were seemingly collecting power for that grand finale. And that power was beginning to overcome him. He was losing his steady control over the lightning, feeling the vines' reaction slowly pulse through him, gradually building up.
The vines and his lightning combat for dominance, making the crackling wilder than ever. Mako was starting to badly feel the pain were the two energies passed through his body. Yet, while still fighting, while still on his feet, he awaited death, feeling its bitter pang slowly gripping him, and welcoming it. He groaned in pain as the combating powers scorched the sleeve of his shirt, and eventually the skin on his arm. He hardly had time to register the pain.
But, in the next moment, the force of his lightning was steady again. He thought that maybe he can overpower the vines for a while and keep his promise to his brother. He slowly walked over to the exit, trying to maintain the lightning. But this made him lose concentration, and just when he was inches from the door, he falters. The vines snap back at him with a force that knocks his body out.
He was in incredible pain, a pain worse than a burn. It was as if the energies of the vines and his own bending were lashing out against him, electrocuting him not all at once, but bit by bit. It felt as if every fiber of him were being fried. But the vines, he could feel, were reaching the peak of the power that they could contain. It would explode soon. And he was going down with this machine.
In that moment, on the cold metal floor, he realized what they say was true. In your moment of death, you could feel your whole life flash before you. Even the memories he had forgotten about resurfaced, making the sting in his heart more prominent. The memories of simpler times, when he was still with his family, his mother and father still and well and alive. Even times he was so mad at his little brother made him feel this indescribably happiness, and his father was right when he said, "you'll laugh about this one day."
Then he saw his parent's death, his life on the streets, his association with criminals. His life changed when he managed to earn an honest living when he became a pro-bender. But the real significant change in his life? It happened when Korra had arrived.
If you asked him the first moment he saw her, he wouldn't have thought that he would've fallen for this feisty and tough girl. But she stuck around and grew on him, grew on him in a way that would later on make his heart swell with this simple joy and happiness that was love. He became a cop, then a detective, and went through all these crazy adventures with her. Maybe their relationship never worked out – and never will, given how it was then, but he was still so glad he met this girl. He was so glad that she became a part of her life, because ever since, she was his light of hope, his inspiration.
When she came to his life he went on these journeys he would've never believed he'd be on, he fought battles he never thought he could overcome, making him braver, making him selfless. It's true, after all these years, he still had immense feelings for this girl. This moment was a manifestation of how she'd inspired him to be selfless. And he was glad that he would be able to do this for her. To this for safety of the city, the safety of many. The safety of everyone he loved.
His friends.. everyone. He saw their faces flash before him, one by one, all with perfect smiles. He saw his boss, Chief Bei Fong, who somehow became a mother figure to him, Wu, who may have annoyed him here and there, but still, their time together was inerasable. He saw Asami, beautiful and brave, who he loves as a great friend during their journey. He saw his brother, the one who has been with him all his life, the only family he has left. He smiled at the thought of how much of a great man he has become. He smiled at the thought of how proud he is of Bolin. He smiled at the thought of accepting Bolin as his responsibility at such a young age, and after all these years, not failing to keep him safe.
They would all be safe. And this would be all worth it.. he thought as he saw everyone's smiles, Bolin's smile, then Korra's..
Then everything turned into light.
…
The victory against Kuvira was short lived. At least for everyone who loves Mako, one of the bravest and selfless soldiers in the concluded war.
When a grieving Bolin, tears a steady stream down his cheeks, delivered the news to Korra, she could hardly believe it. It made sense; in fact, it was the only possible explanation as to why the meha tank was brought down. And there was no possible escape for Mako in that situation – after he directed the lightning to the vines, he had to keep at it until they explode. There would be no time to escape. There was no escape at all.
But it all still felt like a terrible dream. She didn't want to quite believe it until she saw it for her own eyes, no matter how blurred her tears made them. And see she did – his body charred and unrecognizable under various debris, an insult to his former beauty.
Even up until the funeral, everything was hard to believe. And Korra guessed it would take much longer time to heal from the loss of someone she cared so deeply about as she did Mako. Or no time at all – sometimes she feels she might never heal from this.
There were moments when she would just imagine him walking up to her, specially in her darkest moments, uplifting her and making her feel better the way only he knew how, the way he always has. But the crushing truth would crumble down on her, with the weight of boulders, and she realizes the reason she was so depressed was because of him – because he was gone.
And it was because of her.
Even during his wake, which was probably one of the most painful experiences of her life, she expected him to come to her and wrap his arms around her and just chase all her fears away. And she had to wonder how long she'd be dealing with this. And she knew she wasn't the only one grieving.
Mako has had a rough childhood, it was the kind that made him gain a lot of enemies. But she was glad he also gained a lot of friends. Friends he made sad, albeit. His entire family was here. So was Asami, who not only lost Mako, but her father, too. The entire Air Nation was here, as well as the Police Force. And of course, a weeping Prince Wu. It was also the first time Korra saw the tough as nails Chief of Police shed tears, which, given other reasons, Korra would've found amusing. Just not this.
The breeze was extra-specially cold, making her thankful for the ratty and worn out scarf around her neck, the one she didn't feel the she deserved. Days ago, she could hardly believe Bolin would even suggest it – he was the brother, Mako's only family for years. If there were a waiting list for the coveted red scarf, while Korra wouldn't exactly be last in line, she didn't think she'd actually be the first.
It wasn't like Mako had left a signed will and testament, making it official that the scarf was hers. Bolin just gave it to her because he thought it felt right. Korra could remember his shaking hands as he enclosed her own around the warm cloth. "Please, Korra," Bolin said gently, his gaze warm, twinkling with encouragement. "I'm pretty sure he would've wanted you to have it."
Korra could feel the tears welling up. "No, you're his brother! And what about your grandma?" Korra protested, to which Bolin just replied, "I know. Which means I get the rest of his cool stuff. And grandma and I both agreed to it." He gave Korra the biggest smile he can muster. "You know, he never really told us out loud, but we know that he loves you."
Bolin's words had a metal grip, almost knocking Korra out. She noticed how he used the present tense, not minding to correct him anyways. "He did tell us that you continue to inspire him to be loyal and selfless."
"Korra, you changed his life when you walked into it," Bolin tightened his grip around Korra's hands, "you change all of ours. If it weren't for you – who knows where we would be right now? We'd probably still be the struggling orphans. The least I can do," he paused, "is give you this."
With that, Korra engulfed Bolin into a fierce hug. She swore she felt his tears drip down her shoulders.
And Korra had it around her neck ever since, serving as her comfort object. She'd lift a section up to her mouth the way she saw Mako do, whenever he had this dark look in his eyes. She finally understood why he was so attached to the scarf, as she herself was attached, albeit in a different way. The scent of the soap he used to wash all his clothes still lingered on the ratty cloth, it was the smell she immediately loved the first time she had her face pressed close to him for a hug. It was the smell she had always looked forward to whenever he'd open up his arms, beckoning her to come forth. And now he never would, she thought bitterly.
…
Life still goes on, Korra thought wearily, some people do, not knowing that the current peace they wade through was because someone had died for them. Someone very important to Korra. But it would be an insult to his memory not to live life, not to carry on make a better Republic City, for the people who sacrificed for.
She laughed and smiled in some places during Zhu Li and Varrick's wedding, maybe even sneaked in a dance or two. It happened so long after the entire battle, but the wounds where still fresh. There were empty spaces where none of the victories could ever fill in.
Feeling lonely despite the barrage of cheery music, she walked to the dock, the sound of the ocean's calm wave seemingly beckoning her. She leaned against a post, rubbing a hand down the exposed portions of her other arm. Around her neck was the red scarf, a sharp contrast against her all-blue ensemble and blue eyes – but she didn't care. It gave her the necessary warmth.
She then heard the careful clicking of heals coming her way, and Asami dressed in red, looking beautiful, with a warm, melancholy look clouding over her green eyes.
"Want to sit with me for a minute?" Korra invited Asami as she inched closer. "I'm not ready to get back to the party just yet." They sat at the steps of the dock, facing the bay, Korra understanding Asami's feelings.
"Asami, I'm so sorry about what happened," Korra began, after a while of silence, "about your father I mean."
But instead of hurt, Asami's eyes brightened, even for just a fraction of a degree. "It's been hard, I have to admit. Just when I forgave him," she drifted off for a few moments, then looked back at Korra, a brow raised. "What about you?" she gently flicked the loose ends of the red scarf.
"Not good," Korra replied with a slight shake of her head. But Mako was both their losses – at some point, they both had strong feelings for him, and even longer than that, a great friendship. It was hard on them both. Maybe it was even harder for Asami, losing two people after he war.
"I know," Asami sighed, closing her eyes. "Sometimes I still expect him to show up and complain about Wu's demands," she almost chuckled. But Korra sank her head deeper in the sea of red, woven thread. Asami put an arm on Korra's shoulder, and pulled her in for a hug.
"This sucks," Korra mutters into Asami's shoulder, to which Asami nods in response, and says, "I know."
"After all these months, I think I just need time get my mind off things," Asami admitted.
"So, what now? Back to the dance floor?" Korra suggested, though somehow defeated.
"I'm kind of all danced out," Asami sighed, "honestly, after everything that's happened the past few months, I could use a vacation."
"Let's do it!" Korra blurted, eyes widening, "Let's go on a vacation, just the two of us. Anywhere you want."
" Really?" Asami disbelievingly replied, but challenged Korra. "Okay. I've always wanted to see what the Spirit World is like."
"Sounds perfect."
Korra's tone was still broken, but hopeful. Months had gone by since the battle, which left each person with their own kind of emptiness that could never be filled. But what else was there to do? The best tribute to make the fallen hero was to make the best out of her life, and the lives of the people he gave his life for. She was the Avatar, and as long as the world thrived, there will always be rifts she needed to bridged. But more importantly, she was Korra,
And she was just as strong as the people around her, the people she could count on, the people who would never abandon her and always faithfully supported her. Though there was one less person there to physically be there for her, he would always be there in spirit, reminding her of how loves she is. Reminding her that even at her lowest, even when she thinks she's lost the parts of her that ever really mattered, there were still people willing to bet their lives on her.
Bolin had said that she inspired loyalty and self-sacrifice to Mako.
But the truth was – he inspires her. And will continue to. Even in her next life.
The End.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed – well, as much as you can enjoy a fic about character death. I've actually had this planned shortly after the finale, but I revised the second half, the one after Mako's actual death scene. I was always having a hard time trying to finish it, until today. But finishing it involved revising the whole thing altogether. But here it is now, anyways.
