MAKO

CORPORAL TORIHADA MAKO WAS NERVOUS, AND, HE HAD TO ADMIT, AT LEAST ON THE CUSP OF BEING TERRIFIED. He stood in what he felt was an unnecessarily claustrophobic room, back ramrod straight, almost quivering at attention. He was doing his best to look calm, cool, collected, the perfect soldier. He was twenty-years-old that winter, two years into his National Service, and he prided himself on looking the part. He was tall, well-built, and always very conscious of his appearance and his conduct. He had seen action, performed very well, and had never had to be reprimanded by superior officers.

Despite all that, though, in his current situation, he couldn't help but think of the bad things. He couldn't stop thinking about the hilt his wakizashi, the short sword worn by non-officers, and how he had been meaning to re-braid it, and really should have. Or what about his boots? His boots were caked in dirt, and the bottoms of his duty uniform trousers were desperately in need of a scrubbing. And my topknot is looking a little skewed today, too.

The silence didn't help. It was dead quiet in the room, far more quiet than a military office in the middle of a major army base should be. The only sounds were the occasional flipping of pieces of paper as one of the men he stood before read something, and the crinkle of the cigarette the other man was smoking.

Why won't they fucking say something? Irritation flashed through Mako's brain, and he bit down on it. Don't show you're annoyed; it's not a soldier's place to be annoyed. No, he wouldn't be annoyed. No matter that he had duties to attend to, things to do. No, he would stand here, and wait, while Colonel Matsuura read his papers, and that other man…

That other man…

Why is he staring at me like that?!

Mako knew Colonel Matsuura, of course; everyone knew him. Sure, the man wasn't of the best birth (though, Mako had to admit, son of a royal bastard was still higher on the totem pole than son of an peasant-born war veteran), but still, getting jumped from Captain to Colonel at twenty-three (now twenty-four, Mako reminded himself) tended to be something that caused a few ripples. That other man, though…

Who is he, and where have I seen him before, and why won't he stop fucking staring at me?!

So wrapped up was he in trying to figure out what was going on that, for a moment, Mako didn't realize that the staring man had begun to speak. As soon as he realized this, and as soon as he fully processed the sound of the man's voice, Mako wished that he hadn't.

Because, see, the man's voice was a lot like the man's eyes: Barely recognizable as human.

"You're Torihada Mako, right? Corporal, Fifty-Seventh Infantry Regiment?"

Mako blinked, trying to control the shivers that voice and those eyes sent up and down his spine. Keep cool, keep calm. If he's with Colonel Matsuura… "Yes, sir."

The man nodded, as calm and relaxed and cold as everything else he did. "Where are you from, Corporal?"

Mako had to struggle not to frown in confusion. Where am I from? Surely that's in my file… "A place called Yu Dao, sir."

"Ah. So, you're from the colonies, then?"

Mako bowed his head. "Yes, sir. Born and raised. Never even been to the Homeland."

"And yet, you wear our uniform, and serve very bravely in our military. Why?"

For a moment, Mako didn't quite know what to say to that. Where is this going? What is the purpose of all of this? His mind reeled, lurching from one possibility to the other, each more terrifying than the last. Mako considered himself a patriot, a true son of the Fire Nation, whether he had ever been there or not, but even as pure-hearted of a believer as he was knew enough about the state of his nation to be wary of questions.

Two, he remembered. That's how many officers disappeared last week: Two. And no one seems to know why, just that one day they were there, and the next, they…weren't. Or, at least, Mako and his friends pretended not to know what had happened.

"Um…sir? I'm not sure I understand the question…"

The man nodded, while Colonel Matsuura seemed to be completely oblivious of the proceedings. "It's a simple enough question, Corporal. Perhaps if I tried it in Hangugeo?" Without missing a beat, the man changed gears, and repeated his question in flawless Hangugeo.

Mako's heart stopped. I never told anyone… Hangugeo was the local dialect of the northwestern chunk of the former Earth Kingdom, the part that was conquered by Sozin early in the War. It was also, for a long time, technically illegal.

Which never stopped my mother…

"Sir?" Act dumb, try to escape.

The man wasn't having any of it. Still in the same language, he said, "Don't play games with me, Corporal. I know your mother taught it to you."

That was all there was to it, really. They know everything. Fear gripped Mako's heart. I'm done for. They know about my mother, about my brother, about my background, everything. This time tomorrow, I'll be gone, and my friends will have to pretend I never existed. Steeling himself, he said, in the required language, which he spoke like a native, "As you wish, sir. And as for the Fire Nation…I believe it is the future, sir. It's the most advanced, most civilized nation in the world, and I believe it is an honor to march beneath her banner."

"Ah," the man said, stubbing out his cigarette and lighting another with a match struck off his boot, a ghost of a smile on his face, or as close to a smile as Mako suspected he was capable of being, "but your younger brother would disagree, I believe."

Mako almost fainted right there. Damn you, Bolin. I always knew you'd get me killed. "My brother is…confused, sir. He always did take after our mother's side of the family."

"With a father like yours, I can't blame him."

Mako felt a jolt of fury at that, but kept it under control. How dare he…calm, Mako, calm. There still might be a chance… "Sir, if you don't mind my asking, what is the meaning of all this?"

The man regarded him for what felt like far too long, before nodding, that disturbing little smile on his lips. "That's a good question. At ease, Corporal." Mako obeyed, and waited. "Do you know who we are?"

Mako nodded at the Colonel. "He's Colonel Matsuura, sir, but…I don't know who you are."

The man chuckled. Hearing it felt like ice cold fingers were scraping out Mako's very soul. "You wouldn't; that's the point of me. You can call me Kojima."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir!" the man called Kojima mocked. "How proper! A real soldier, you are, Corporal."

"Um…thank you, sir."

"Don't mention it. Now, do you know why Colonel Matsuura and I are here?"

Mako pondered how much gossip to admit being privy to, and quickly decided that trying to play dumb wasn't going to get him far. "You're forming some kind of special unit, for some kind of special assignment. Rumor says…um…that you're hunting the Avatar."

Colonel Matsuura spoke then, in Nihongo, his first contribution to what Mako couldn't help but feel was some kind of test. "We really need to shore up security, Kojima."

Kojima shrugged. "Soldiers gossip," he replied, also in Nihongo, "nothing you can do about it. We'll just keep enough competing rumors in the air to drown out the truth. Now, Corporal," he swung his attention back to Mako with unsettling speed, switching back to Hangugeo, "it just so happens that you're right on the money. We are forming a special unit, and we are hunting the Avatar. Would you like to be a part of that?"

It was a long time before Mako could speak. "Um…sir?"

Kojima rolled his eyes, and the Colonel chuckled. "I said, would you like to be part of our special mission?"

Would I? That was all Mako could really think. This was it, what he'd been hoping for, praying for. His big break, his chance to shine, to excel, to rise above all the jokes about stupid colonials and mangy half-breeds, to no longer have to worry about…about… "What about my brother, sir?"

Kojima shrugged. "What about him? You're not the only colonial soldier from a divided family. There's a war on; these things happen. Now, the question still stands: You are a more-or-less local soldier, who speaks a language not many outside of the area understand. You're familiar with the people and the cultures, and you look Fire Nation, but you also look just Earth Kingdom enough to blend in. So, I'm going to ask again: Do you want to be a part of the hunt for the Avatar? Do you want to be a part of a mission set down by His Majesty Himself?"

Mako didn't have to think about it for another second. He snapped to attention, bowed, and said, "Absolutely, sir."

Kojima smiled, and Mako had to look away. "Excellent. Pack your bags, and don't worry about the paperwork; your transfer has already been filed and approved. We leave for Omashu in the morning."

And thus it was that Corporal, soon to be Sergeant, Torihada Mako's life turned upside down, even though he didn't know it yet.


Oh, Mako...even in the show, you had a tendency to not think things through. *shakes head*

I always planned to have Mako in this, by the way. The idea of mixed families that any long war would produce is fascinating to explore, especially when the war lasts long enough for those families to have to deal with divided loyalties. Just to give you an idea of the scale of such things, it's estimated that the Germans, after four years of occupation, left upwards of a hundred-thousand babies in France, and even the most anti-German stats say that at least nine-in-ten were completely consensual. These things happen. Throw lonely young soldiers and impressionable young girls together, things get complicated.

For those playing the home game, Torihada is the "name" of a Japanese comedian, who is basically (from what I understand) the Japanese version of Steven Colbert, in that he mocks the Japanese right wing by playing up a crazed stereotype. Japanese people seem united in that it's hysterical. Torihada seems to mean goosebumps. I liked it.

That's all for today! Don't want to overload you guys.

In the next chapter, Korra and Toph hang out, and take in a marvelous view. Stay tuned!