Author's Note- I'm currently working on a story expanding on this. This is a one-shot taking place before the fanfic. Others will follow more than likely in preparation of the story. This is my first LOK fanfic so go easy on me. I own no rights to anything.


The sun was high in the sky; heat bearing down on Republic City. It was so warm and enlightening. The type of weather in which it was impossible to be sad, but yet, for Mako, the weather was deceitful. For all he cared it could be cold and raining. He felt as though he could feel no joy. No man in his position would. He stood in front of a casket. The service had ended hours ago, but Mako didn't care. He needed to be here. He owed it to her. His wife, his love. His better half.

He placed his hand on the casket. The cold marble felt odd against his warm hand. It took every ounce of his mentality not to lose it. Oh how he wanted to yell, destroy something and get mad over losing the woman he loved. He had nearly set the hospital on fire when the doctors told him that she was gone. Bolin had stopped him.

"I should have protected you."

It had been his job to take care of her, and he failed. Although his brother and friends told him not to feel guilty about this, the truth was that Mako blamed himself. He hadn't been there to stop the attack on their apartment. He hadn't been there to prevent the attack on his wife. If he had protected her then she would be alive. His heart was heavy with guilt and sorrow.

"I am so sorry."

He moved closer to the casket. The closer he got, the more he felt the urge to cry. He had cried after returning from the hospital that day. It had been the first time in a while since he had cried.

"I will always love you."

With that he kissed the marble casket briefly before stepping back.

"Goodbye."

He turned away, and made his way home. All the way there he thought of her, and the good times they had together. It was late by the time he arrived to his apartment. Walking inside, he was welcomed by the smell of food. Although it smelled good, Mako couldn't bring himself to eat. He hadn't been able to in the past few days.

"Mako, is that you?"
"Yeah grandma, it's me."
Taking off his coat he hung it on the coat rack before walking to the kitchen. There he found his grandmother cooking food. Mako had brought her, as well as some cousins, in from the Earth Kingdom to Republic City a week ago. She was old, and fragile, but his grandmother was by far his greatest emotional support. She didn't pester him with questions or try to motivate him to move on. She allowed him to grieve the way he wanted to, which was what he needed.

"How was she today? Give you any trouble?"

"Not at all. Mostly slept the entire time. Reminds me of your father when he was a baby. He never gave me any problems." The Earth Kingdom woman looked at her grandson. "How are you feeling?"

Mako gave her a weak smile.

"About as good as I can feel." There was a moment of silence. "I'm going to go check on her."

Walking out of the kitchen, he walked down the hall to a room. Despite the room being dark he could make out the silhouettes of all the toys and furniture. Turning on the lamp he looked at the white crib in the corner of the room. He walked over to the crib and looked down inside. Lying in the crib, sleeping soundly, was an infant. Their child.

Mako stood there, watching his child sleep so peacefully. There had been one good thing to come out of all this. His daughter had survived. Barely, but she still survived. Her birth had been bittersweet. His wife had only enough energy to give birth before being rushed away so the doctors could try to revive her. Their child would never be held by her mother. Although Mako knew that he should be grateful for the miracle of his daughter surviving, there was too much sorrow. In time he would be able to cherish this moment and go on knowing a piece of her still survived on this Earth.

Standing there Mako watched his daughter stir in her sleep. She was beautiful. There was very little of him in her. Aside from being light skinned like him, she looked like her mother with her dark hair and porcelain face. He had named her Miyako. She would have loved the name. Miyako stirred a bit before opening her eyes. Mako looked into her big colored orbs. Her eyes.

Mako smiled as he reached down, and carefully picked her up. Cradling her, he sat down in the rocking chair.

"Did you enjoy your nap Miya?"

Taking care of a baby was new to him. Although he had raised Bolin, he never had to worry about changing diapers, doctor visits or waking up in the middle of the night. This was all new to him, and he would be doing it on his own. Although his grandmother was helping him out for now, he knew she wouldn't be staying for much longer, not with the tension in the Earth Kingdom growing.

Looking at Miya, he watched her yawn a bit. She was so young, and fragile. He had failed in protecting his wife, but he would do his best to make sure his daughter was always safe.

"I will always be here to protect you."

He kissed her forehead softly as she drifted back to sleep. Looking at her, Mako sighed. Her birth had been followed by tragedy. Someday he would appreciate his daughter being alive and healthy, but for now there was too much grief clouding these moments. Someday they wouldn't be bittersweet.


Enjoy what you saw? Wonder who Miya's mother is? It could be Korra, could be Asami or it could be someone else. I'm not telling. Keep an eye out for my fic to find out ;)