Used To Lies
A/N: Some Mako feels for ya'll. Because I have so much fucking feels for this character you have no idea.
I am eight years old again.
My brother and I are walking home after an errand. I see him grin widely, catching a whiff of the lunch our mother promised for us when we get home. I open the door, expecting to see our dining table set with mouthwatering food, our parents expectant for us. But no. That's not what we see.
The delicious smell of our mother's cooking turns bad, and I realize that it's starting to burn out of neglect. The room is trashed and some pieces are burnt. I turn off the stove with my shaking hands. My brother couldn't hide the fear in his eyes, and neither could I. Panic boils up in me, and Bolin could see every bit of it.
"M-mom?" I call out. "Dad?"
The silence is eerie. We reach the living room, and I see them there, our parents, bodies weirdly contorted. I am naïve, I run up to them and kneel, shaking their shoulders, calling their names.
"Mako," Bolin calls out, his voice gentle, ready to break. "Don't wake them up, they're napping."
Or maybe, he is more naïve than I am, because after a few calls, I know. I know the truth. They're gone. Tears stream steadily down my face. My body goes numb with grief. My mind tries to reject the sight of them covered in burn marks and stab wounds.
"No," I yell shakily.
"Mako, why are you crying? They're just sleeping," Bolin says, as though he was only trying to convince himself. But I can't control my sobs, and shake my head. And I think he gets it, and starts crying harder than I am. And we just stay there, crying until it feels that we're drying up, until the authorities come in to get us, silently hoping it was all a silent dream.
…
How desperate a bunch of bandits could get to try to rob a bunch of orphaned kids is beyond me. Maybe because we were the easiest targets, I am not sure.
Their sharp knives shimmer menacingly in the moonlight, glinting as if itching to mutilate some flesh. Their eyes are like wolves, ready to feed off fear. Bolin hides behind me, hugging the bag of bread, which we also stole, close to his chest. I stand there, ready to defend him.
I am terrified.
But for the past year, I managed to learn how to control the shaking of my body, the stutter of my voice. I manage to conjure up a glare, and raise my arms to the side to defend Bolin. And the food.
"Mako," I hear Bolin say.
"Don't worry about I," I say, though, Worry about I - I may not be able to defend you!, runs through my mind. "I got this."
I don't remember when I've started to become such a great liar. I don't remember when it began being easy to just swallow up the fear and forget about its weight on my chest. It's been getting easier and easier. I knew I had to hide, Bolin trusts me. If I'm scared, so is he. The streets are cruel to people who show weakness.
So when I feel the sudden bout fear of what I have to do next, I shed it in an instance. I have never bent fire since the last time my mother thought me. I was too terrified after seeing our charred home, our wounded and lifeless parents.
But it is my only choice. I'm terrified, I'm terrified, I think. "I'm not afraid of you!" I scream. I might cause a terrible accident if I bend fire. I can't bend fire. I ignore my thoughts, and let my body run the show. With a strong movement from my hand, fire erupts and sends the bandits backing away.
"Shit – he's a bender!" I hear them say. I turned around and took Bolin's hand, and we scramble away until we lose sight of them.
"Wow, Mako! That was kind of brave," Bolin said sheepishly. Lately he has been losing this idolizing look in his eye. It's been morphing to this jealousy. He was trying to learn earthbending himself, maybe so he doesn't have to rely on my anymore. But he manages to fish out this complement.
I plop down the dirty corner. My heart is pounding. Brave?
I look away, so he doesn't have to see the truth in my eyes.
…
I grow used to it. Hiding my emotions – it's become as automatic and as reflexive as blinking, as breathing. It's engraved and hardwired in my system.
When I see Korra, beautiful under the moonlight, it clicks again. The longing, the feelings are suddenly stored away where I can't feel their weight. I am alone with her all of a sudden, and my heart threatens to thrash wildly in my chest. I am suddenly glad for the stiffness of my suit, I am glad of how uncomfortable it is to move around in it. It's a sanctuary where I can hide.
There are so many things left unsaid between us. So many things I have to let her know. I love you. I still love you after all these years. I want to be with you. I'll follow you to the ends of the earth, I'll do anything for you.
But I know the truth. She's not going to return that. My heart lurches at the thought. But I convince myself to accept it, it's the only way. I see the answers in her eyes. We will never return to the way we were. She doesn't need me the way I need her. She never needed me those long three years she was gone.. but Asami.. Asami was different.
So instead I say the partial truth. "I want you to know, I'll follow you into battle no matter how crazy things get. I've got your back," I go for a warm smile. There. Those words, they weigh so much. It's the truth. But this little promise doesn't have to be romantic. It's a promise a great friend would make.
Friend.
When she walks away, I finally understand that's all we'll ever be.
…
I am a master of lies now.
The face I put on every day is one of the biggest lies of all. When my arm got better, with the nasty scar and all, I finally get my job as a detective back. And things are a little different since I first became a cop. My co-workers respect me deeply now. People respect me deeply. I guess, whenever they see the scar, they are reminded of what I did.
Sure, it would've all been enough to truly make me happy. So when Bolin asks, "Are you okay?" I easily reply with an "I'm fine." Because it's true.
But not completely.
The truth is, when Korra went away, I feel as if a piece of me was taken along with her. But I don't tell him that. He was there when I found out about Korra and Asami, and he saw me smile and say how happy I am for them. And he believes me. The truth is I'm anxious. I'm anxious because the last time, those months she should've been away turned in to years.
Now, it's only been two weeks. But who knows how long until she gets back?
"Hey there," I hear a voice that makes my spine tingle from top to bottom. I turn around, and I see her. Korra. "What's up?"
I see her smile like she's never smiled before. Her eyes are brighter, too. And I know that she's happy. I remember that I'm supposed to be happy for her, too. So I smile, hoping it would be convincing enough. "Nothing much. You left the city pretty peaceful after the reconstructions, so I'm kind of upset about how you practically left me with nothing to do," I joke. But I'm upset you didn't say as much as a goodbye to me. I'm upset because I feel as if our friendship suddenly doesn't mean anything to you.
"So you're actually asking for trouble, huh?" she raises an eyebrows and smirks, the gesture, along with her hand on her hip, was teasing me. Then she shifts gears, looking serious. "But hey, listen. I'm sorry I took off all of a sudden."
I stiffen. "It's fine, you deserve a break more than anyone." A goodbye would've been nice. Any acknowledgement would've been nice.
"But I guess there are still things I have to talk to you about. Maybe I.. Maybe I chickened out a little bit-"
"It's fine," I say, which sounded a little impatient. "I know about you and Asami."
She blushes. "Oh."
"I'm happy for you, Korra," I say. Because the last thing I need is for her to feel sorry for me. I want her to be happy. And here she is, happy. But it still hurts Korra. It does.
We make small talk, joke around and eventually grow back to getting on each other's nerves. This is what it would be like, I realize, for the rest of my life, this friendship. Maybe I'll get over it and move on. Maybe I'll find someone else who's out there for me.
But right now, it just feel pain and longing. I long to have you back, Korra. I miss you. I love you. I always will. I wanna be with you. And so goes the stream of thought I try to lock away.
But she doesn't have to know. She probably never will. We're better off that way.
And as for me, I'll probably get used to the lies.
THE END.
Thanks for reading!
