Author's note- So I'm not really sure if I like how this turned out, but it begged to be written, so here it is! Oh, and in this story, Amon's not a bender, he's just a fraud. Thanks to everybody for all the kind reviews on part one; you're all so amazing, and I hope you like the finished piece. As always, reviews are highly appreciated. Enjoy!

Disclaimer- I own nothing but the plot.

Part 2

A 32-year-old Mako walks swiftly down a busy street on Ember Island, dodging expertly through the crowd of people who have gathered to watch a street performer display some bewildering acrobatics. He had been reluctant to come at first, reluctant to train Korra's reincarnation, but in the end, he had decided to do it because it was what she would have wanted.

The Revolution had fallen shortly after the death of the Avatar. As Amon had said, she had become a martyr, a reason for benders to fight for what was right and what was fair. The unfortunate truth was, the conflict would have never been resolved if not for her demise. For months after, shrines could be found everywhere: on street corners, in restaurants, even in people's homes, all dedicated to the city's savior, Avatar Korra. Her death brought new life to a once dead city; it brought equality for all, benders and nonbenders alike.

After the Revolution's fall, Amon was readily captured and sent to The Boiling Rock to serve life in prison. Once unmasked, support for him had fallen rapidly. His sob story was all an act; his face was unscarred, and his intentions were, to this day, still unknown. Most believed he was insane; a man with a mask and little concern for anybody's well-being but his own. His right hand man, Lieutenant, hadn't been as lucky as his leader. He had been killed in battle at the hands of a revenge driven Mako. He wasn't proud to say he was a murderer; he still woke up sometimes, even 14 years later, haunted by the ghost's of his actions, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it. A life for a life is only fair, and if he recalled correctly, the equalists were all for fairness.

It seems silly to say, but Mako still loves Korra, even after living without her for over a decade. He still thinks about her every single day, her smile, her eyes, the sense of humor she held onto until the very last second, the way she was so passionate about what she believed in; everything about her was amazing and unique and so perfect. He glances nonchalantly down at his wrist, where a small K had been tattooed, some years ago, in shining blue ink; it was slightly faded, but it reminded him to always remember her and what she had sacrificed for the city, for him. It goes without saying, he hadn't dated much since her passing; occasionally, Bolin would set him up with an enthusiastic fangirl, but it had never developed into anything serious.

It had taken years to restore Republic City to its former glory. The damage from war was immense, sprawling miles in all directions. Buildings were destroyed; trees were uprooted; everywhere you turned, lay debris and rubbish. Everybody in the city had to pitch in and help. Firebenders would burn down the remains of building to make room for new ones; afterward, earthbenders raised structures and walls while the waterbenders and nonbenders worked to clear the garbage from Yue Bay. Every citizen came together to fix a broken city; they were united.

The council had begun to meet once again, with the addition of a nonbending representative, to reform city laws, and slowly, Republic City became whole once again. It now prospered as a place of true peace and equality.

After the city was strong again, Mako had immersed himself in bending, opening up a school to train young firebenders how to properly yield their gift. Bending was the one way he could feel close to her; they had both carried a deep passion for it. He had continued probending on the side, still enjoying the rush of adrenaline it gave him, but it just hadn't been the same without Korra there to beat the crap out of him when he got too controlling. He had left the team in the hands of a newly engaged Bolin, a few years back, opting to focus more on his business. Bolin was now happily married; him and his wife, Ming, a beautiful, Earth Kingdom descendent, were expecting their first child any day. Mako had felt bad missing the birth of his first niece or nephew, but Bo had understood and assured him that there would be plenty of time to be an Uncle after the Avatar had mastered firebending.

The White Lotus had contacted him a few weeks ago to ask if he would be interested in training the next Avatar; his gut reaction was no, and that this had to have been a cruel joke. They had wanted him to come face-to-face with the boy who had taken the spirit of the woman he loved; it just didn't seem fair to him. It didn't seem right. This child gets to live in a time of peace; a time that was set forth by Korra. Mako knows he isn't being fair, and he shouldn't feel so bitter about it, but he can't help himself; if Korra had survived that night, there would be no new Avatar to train. He likes to believe that if she were still here, they would be happily married by now with a house full of pale skinned, blue-eyed children, a waterbender for her and a firebender for him; I probably would have been wrapped around their little fingers, he thinks, chuckling quietly to himself.

He finds the apartment complex where the boy is staying without a problem and knocks lightly on the door, smiling apprehensively at the gruff looking man who answers. He's pulled into the room roughly, and before Mako has time to object, he is being frisked by the grisly guard.

"The Avatar is on the top floor, first door on your left," the man says while releasing the bewildered firebender; Mako nods dumbly, vaguely noting that the man's deep voice matches his appearance perfectly, before turning to the staircase and beginning his slow ascent.

He's nervous, nervous of how he's going to react once he sees this child. Will he be able to hold himself together, or will it all be too much for him? Suddenly, he understands how Katara must have felt when she was asked to train Korra, how hard it really must have been for her. He wonders if he will ever truly be able to look at the boy as his own person or if he'll always see Korra lurking just beneath the surface, looming just out of his reach.

He arrives at the top floor quicker than expected, hesitating in front of the apartment door as he gathers up all his thoughts and takes a few deep breathes to settle his rapidly increasing heart rate before knocking timidly. Mako knows very little about the teenager, only that he was fourteen years old, and he had recently discovered his abilities. He didn't know what he was expecting to see when the door swung open, but it certainly wasn't familiar cerulean eyes looking back at him from the other room. He couldn't help but stare, to drown in their depths as memories flashed through his mind, memories of Korra laughing, yelling, crying, dying in his arms. Every moment he had every spent with her was reflected off their glassy surface and back at him.

"Hi," the boy says, his voice shocking Mako out of his stupor; he felt like he was looking at her, but this voice, it wasn't hers. "I'm Liang." He bows low to Mako, a sign of respect.

"Hello Liang," Mako says still a little dazed, bowing back, "My name is…"

"Mako, I know," the boy finishes as the older man blinks in surprise, "Korra told me," the teenager adds simply, as if talking to his past-life wasn't anything extraordinary.

"Did she?" Mako stutters, his heart beating a thousand miles an hour.

"Yeah, she talks about you a lot," Liang says, pulling the older man into the room and shutting the door behind him, "She really likes to call you an idiot for some reason…"

Mako bursts out laughing, his chest shaking with mirth, and for the first time since he has arrived, he looks at the boy and doesn't see Korra staring back at him. He sees a teenager, 5'8, with pale skin and curly brown hair. He sees Liang, and he knows he made the right decision to come here.

"I was pretty hot in my past life," the boy ventures, chuckling to himself before adding in a more serious tone, "She really loved you, you know."

A smile creeps over Mako's face; he knows.

For the next nine months Liang trains hard, often practicing ten hours a day, six days a week, mastering forms precisely, creating dangerously beautiful flames; he's a natural. On the day of his final firebending assesment, Mako can practically see the fiery determination burning deep below his irises. He passes with flying colors, and Korra would be proud.

When it comes time to part, Mako pulls the teenager in for a "manly" hug.

"You've done well Pupil," he says his cheeks crinkling in the beginnings of a smile, "Always remember your basics, and you will go far."

"Thank you, Sifu," Liang steps out of his embrace and bows low, respectfully, and Mako does the same; they are equal now.

Mako puts his hand on the younger man's shoulders, taking one last look at those eyes, those achingly familiar yet drastically different eyes, and as Liang walks away, the firebender can't help but whisper, "Good luck, Korra," into the wind with a slight smile on his face.