Bolin got all the care and attention because he was the baby. When Bolin wanted another snack, Mako would have to share the rest of his with his younger brother. When Bolin would cry because he was afraid of the dark, their mother would come in and sing him to sleep. When Bolin wanted to play, Mako was subjected to being the target of weak flying rocks his brother would bend at his face.
The only thing Mako got for all his suffering was his father's great red scarf—a slightly frayed at the edges and worn old thing—but even that came with an ultimatum: "Play nice with your brother and be a big boy," his father told him as he wrapped the fabric around Mako's neck, "and you get to keep the scarf for good, okay?"
Even if there wasn't much a seven-year-old could possibly do with a scarf that swallowed half of his face and dragged on the floor behind him when he walked, Mako thought the scarf was the greatest testament of love his father could have given him, greater even than all the attention his parents paid to Bolin whenever the younger boy would cry. The scarf meant his father trusted him to be mature. The scarf meant his father trusted him to be a man.
Once they're on their own, though, Mako will admit he does not know the first thing about being a man. He doesn't know where to look for food when they run out. He doesn't know how to keep a constant flame so they are never in the dark. He doesn't know how to comfort his ever sniffling brother, who tries to be strong like the element he bends but gradually loses his composure and crumbles with the passing of time.
It's late into the night, later than their parents ever let them stay up. Mako and Bolin are pressed together on the sofa in the living room of their home, Mako's back to the younger boy. Mako has so far managed to maintain the house without anyone noticing that his parents are—
But food is running low again and the days are growing shorter. Snow is starting to fall and stick to Republic City. Mako cannot possibly keep it from freezing him to the core.
"Mako." Bolin tugs on Mako's sleeve, his fat fist pulling Mako's shirt well off his shoulder. The older boy yanks his shirt back up, scowling as Bolin peers over Mako's arm. The single waning flame in the fireplace lights up one side of Bolin's face and shadows the other. For a second, Bolin appears like a monster out of Mako's own nightmares of the night that had changed everything. Mako shies away from Bolin, and the younger boy's face falls.
He seems reluctant to speak, but, having been taught by their parents that they will never get what they want unless they speak up, Bolin says, "Mako, I'm hungry."
What Mako does next is cruel. He knows it as the thought occurs to him, understands it as he goes through with it anyway, and regrets it afterward. He says, "Why don't you ask Mom and Dad to get food for you, Bolin? Just like always. You could never take care of yourself and now I have to. But I'm tired, so you can look for food yourself!"
And then he turns his back on his brother, pulling the scarf over his head and shutting himself in the darkness. He knows he shouldn't. With his parents gone, they are all they have left for each other. But with his parents gone, Mako is feeling more and more miserable about the attention he wasn't able to get, the care that was denied him because of Bolin. And for the umpteenth time since his parents have gone, Mako cries himself to sleep.
It's morning when he wakes up. The fire had died sometime in the night. He is tangled in his father's scarf and half expects to hear the sizzle of meat on the stove, but then sees the marks on the walls where he has ticked off how many days it's been since he has had that comfort.
Mako sits up, groggy, readjusting the scarf so that it swallows only his face instead of his entire body. Realizing he is alone on the sofa, he gets up to look for Bolin, but the young earthbender is nowhere to be found. He isn't in their shared room, isn't in their parents' room, isn't hiding under beds or in closets or any of the other places he hides when he is afraid or sad.
And Mako has a sudden fear: What if, during the night, the fire had consumed Bolin, too?
Then he would truly have lost everything.
Mako throws the front door open, looking frantically around the barren front yard, shouting, "Bolin! Bo! Where are you? Bolin!"
There is, of course, no response. Mako goes back inside before one of his neighbors thinks that there is actually something wrong, comes and finds him alone in the house, his parents gone, and then takes him to one of the many, rotten orphanages in Republic City where he will be alone in a sea of children. He slumps against the wall of their foyer, burying his head in his father's scarf. And he cries, never feeling weaker, never wishing harder for his father, not just his father's musk, for the warmth of his mother, not just the image of her smile. And for his brother.
He should have never said those horrible things to Bolin last night. He should have never been so harsh because what does he have now except this raging regret?
Over the sound of his racking sobs, Mako hears a click and feet padding softly over the hardwood floor. He is about to dismiss it as his imagination, a product of how much his heart yearns for his parents, but then a soft voice calls, "Mako? What's the matter?"
Mako freezes, then gathers his wits about him and looks up. Bolin is before him, the front door open a crack and letting a sliver of light shine through and backlighting his brother in a heavenly glow. Through Bolin's silhouette, Mako can see Bolin is hugging a tightly wrapped package to his chest and wearing a red ferret around his neck. Mako is too overwhelmed by his brother's appearance to care that his brother has brought home an animal with him as he jumps to his feet and gathers Bolin into the biggest bear hug, reminiscent of the way their father would scoop them up after coming home from work.
Bolin chokes, struggles in Mako's grip, and says, "Mako, wait, you're squishing the food!"
At this, Mako lets Bolin go. The younger boy goes reeling backward, but Mako catches his shirt and pulls him steady. Bolin flashes Mako a smile in appreciation and offers him the package, saying, "I found this behind one of the bakeries on Main Street! It must have been leftover from last night, so they threw it away, but I think it's still good, so I brought it home. And I found this fire ferret in the alley!" Bolin adds quickly when it stretches out its body to sniff the parcel he holds. "He looked pretty beat up, so I brought him home with me. Look," Bolin says, excited, handing Mako the food. He smoothes the fire ferret down over his shoulders; much to Mako's surprise, it lets Bolin manipulate it without protest. "Look," Bolin says again, pointing to the ferret. "When I have him around my neck, I almost look like you with Daddy's red scarf!"
Bolin puffs out his chest, his hands on his hips as he proudly showcases his ferret scarf. The little creature wiggles its nose, snuggles against Bolin's jaw, tickling the younger boy and making him laugh. It's an odd sound, the first time either one of them have laughed since their parents died. And Bolin must recognize that too because he pauses and lowers his eyes for a second, mourning.
"I'm sorry, Bo," Mako says, sitting back down on the floor. Bolin sits beside him, their shoulders pressed together, and reaches over Mako for the parcel of food. "I shouldn't have yelled at you yesterday."
"'s okay," Bolin says, elbowing his brother. He begins to unravel the parcel, revealing a whole sandwich, perfect in every way except the wilted lettuce leaf between the buns. The bread is a little stale, and the deli meat is too warm, but it is the best meal they have had in a long time.
They stare at it a moment, unable to believe they had gotten so lucky. And then, pressing a hand to his stomach, Bolin says, "I miss them, Mako."
Mako tugs on his scarf as the fire ferret scurries down Bolin's arm and circles the sandwich, sniffing at it. "Me too, Bo," Mako says, putting an arm around his brother. "But we're gonna be okay."
They split the sandwich. Mako gives Bolin the bigger half, but Bolin breaks off a piece of it to feed his new pet, and then their pieces are essentially the same size. When they finish eating, Mako tells Bolin to stay put in the house while he goes out to do more scavenging.
Bolin may have gotten everything when they were younger, but to Mako, now Bolin is everything.
He vows to never lose his brother again.