Mako

It hadn't been long since the second election in the Earth Kingdom. Years had passed since this city had faced the likes of the Earth Empire, yet the streets of Republic City were in a state of disrepair. Even as the sun was setting, and most of the city was preparing for an evening of rest, the rumble of reconstruction filled the air. It seemed spirit vines had a way of growing in places they weren't supposed to.

Mako's amber eyes flitted across the streets, taking in each and every detail of his post. Detectives weren't often asked to run patrol, but this was an exception. Every available head had been asked to stand guard outside the annual gathering for the Elemental Nations Summit.

City Hall stood aglow. Satomobiles drove past the steps, occasionally letting out a passenger surrounded by individual security details. Flags of each nation were displayed from the back of the diplomatic cars, literally flagging them for where they'd traveled from.

Aside from the rumble of cars and the chattering of high diplomats over at the front, the scene was quiet enough. Of course, that was expected. They had light traffic at the side doors with only a few people trying to make their way in. Otherwise, not much was going on. Nice and easy. Almost normal.

Almost, except for Mako's newest partner.

"So, what'd you think of Republic City's newest officers?" Bolin pulled out the lapel of his jacket with pride. "Bright lights, matching uniforms. It's just like back when we were the Fire Ferrets!"

Pabu stood tall on Bolin's shoulder, wearing a hat that bore the matching officer's crest and looking rather confused about the whole thing. Mako's expression didn't budge, nor did his line of sight. He looked out into the street, still watching for something to go wrong. "Bolin. It's just a uniform. Nothing crazy."

"I didn't say crazy," Bolin corrected back, his enthusiasm unaffected. "Protecting peace and justice isn't crazy. It's the United Republic way!" Bolin raised his hand up to Pabu's head, adjusting the brim of the fire ferret's hat. "Plus, Pabs can even still be the mascot. Isn't that right, Pabu?"

The grinning and conversation stopped when a woman approached the door.

Mako's posture shifted. It was their job to be security, and he knew what he was doing. But before he could say a word, Bolin stepped ahead, blocking the woman with an outstretched palm.

"Stop, right there!" Bolin shouted. Sure enough, the middle aged woman paused. Bolin lowered his hand and tugged at his lapel—a gesture meant to make him look professional. "This area is under guard tonight. We'll need to see a picture card before you can come inside."

Bolin turned to Mako, raising his eyebrow with a look that implied 'see, I can do police stuff just as well as you!'

The middle-aged woman, however, stopped to stare up with confusion. "A…"

"A picture card!" Bolin repeated, as if the enthusiasm on his part would make the idea clearer. "You know, the ones with your face on it, the ones that say you can be places? We can't let you in without one."

Mako cleared his throat, stepping out in front of his brother and lightly pushing him back. There was no hate in his action, nor any real annoyance. Just his dour, rule-abiding police persona.

"Ma'am," Mako corrected, "he means an ID. You are not permitted to enter without the proper identification and an invitation."

Bolin, not taking any offense to this if he'd noticed at all, seemed to bob his head as he repeated along. "This is a restricted area, miss. We're just trying to keep you safe, because we're police officers and that's what we do."

The woman kept staring, seemingly speechless as she gaped at Bolin. After a few seconds, she finally found the words. "Oh my Agni… you're Nuktuk, aren't you?"

"That's right," Bolin agreed with Mako, as if nothing worth questioning had happened at all. "But I don't really do the Nuktuk thing anymore. I do this, so. If you could show me your ID," he put a little too much emphasis on the word 'ID', as if to prove he definitely knew it all along, "We can get you inside."

The older woman reached into her bag. "Oh,. Yes, yes, of course. Just one second." Her hands were starting to shake. "Oh, dear. Oh, dear, dear, dear, where is that letter?"

The closer she dug into her bag, the more Bolin looked down, checking where she was looking, too. "It's probably in… an envelope?"

The woman lifted the hand that wasn't digging through her bag to pat him on the cheek. "Oh sweetie, thank you. That's a good idea."

Mako sighed, taking his step back to the side of Bolin. It seemed best to let the possibility important woman fangirl in peace.

And that's when he saw something unexpected. In all of that commotion, in spite of the attention he'd been trying to pay, someone else was standing next to him.

Mako couldn't tell where she'd come from. He should have seen, or heard, anyone coming, yet here someone else was, silent. Weird.

"Can I help you?" Mako asked, examining her subtly.

When Mako's eyes fell on her, she met them head-on. "Thank you." Although the gaze was wide, a bit of distress shone through her stare. "Is this the North door? I keep finding the wrong one."

He nodded. "Yes. This is North." Mako gestured to the side, directing the young woman to step up in front of him. "ID and invitation, please, Ma'am."

The woman's hand ran over one of her pigtails, pulling the mass of dark brown curls so far over her shoulder that they brushed against her cheek. In spite of the downward turn of her head, the lights of the city still bounced across the silver of her eyes.

Mako had no reason to make a move, but he still followed her actions closely. The fact that she'd come up without him hearing, it was unnerving.

The woman kept her head at a slight bow even as she pulled her ID from her pocket. "Here, sir."

Mako took the page from her in silence. He turned it over, reading through, and frowned.

The letter she extended wasn't an invitation. Most of the people invited had some form of a seal. Instead, the credentials she offered were a staff pass, issued to a Hotaru Takahashi, as part of the catering staff. The pass seemed genuine, but the ID wasn't state-issued. He couldn't check quickly if it was doctored.

Mako glanced over to Bolin, checking to see if he could be of any help. Unfortunately for both of them, what Mako saw was that the middle-aged woman had spilled at least a third of her purse onto the ground. Bolin and the woman had reached out at the same time, and she squeezed her hand over the top of his with enough intensity that it made Bolin's smile twist with discomfort.

There wouldn't be any help, there, clearly. Mako had to make the call for himself.

"Alright. Do you know where you're going inside?"

The entire time Mako had been staring, the young woman's gaze hadn't broken from Mako. She answered just as attentively. "Yes. The lower level kitchens."

Mako nodded. He turned to pull the large door, but stood 'conveniently' in front of the entrance, blocking her path. "Can I escort you there? I'm sure Officer Bolin can hold post on his own for a few minutes?" It wasn't a question, he was sure Bolin could tell. It was a direction. Mako had to make sure something worse wasn't up here.

The supposed Hotaru didn't move to step through the open door, not yet. Instead, she'd folded her hands together in front of herself and met Mako with a demure smile. "If you can spare the time, I wouldn't mind the company. Though, please don't feel like you have to. I wouldn't want to impose on you, or Officer Bolin."

"Officer Bolin is fine!" Bolin had shouted back, waving a hand.

"I agree, very fine!" The other woman added.

The second that came out of her mouth, Bolin had to stop looking at Mako, because he'd gone from plain agreement to obvious discomfort. "Ma'am, you can really go inside, now—"

Mako opened the door the rest of the way. He set his foot at the base to prop it open. The warm, golden light of city call flooded out onto the darkening patio and made the outside feel cold. Mako gestured inside to the woman with a gentleman's 'after you' motion.

As the young woman was walking in, Mako spared one last glance back to Bolin. He waited for the curly haired girl to pass in front of him completely before calling back to the other guest. "Ma'am, he isn't interested in finding a partner, romantically or sexually. Move along, and please let him do his job."

Before Mako could hear the result of this, he turned on his heel and took a couple jogging steps to catch back up with Hotaru. The odd pigtails were easily spotted enough that he hadn't lost her in the crowd.

"I apologize for the delay, ma'am," he said.

Her hand crept towards the side of her face, twisting through one of the curls. "Well, then, I apologize, for making you feel like you have to apologize when you're doing me a favor. Then, we're even, right?"

Mako tried not to look at her too closely, without drawing attention to the fact he was avoiding her, either. "…Let's get you to the kitchen."

Mako decided it would be best to beside or slightly in front of the girl. He did his best to set a walking pace that wouldn't allow her to fall behind, but wouldn't have her taking the lead, either. He guided her around several small clusters of diplomats who were lingering in the halls, sharing small talk before any real debates began. Each time they'd rounded a corner, her stare had moved to watch them with what seemed to be a passive sense of awe.

The girl's footsteps synchronized with his own, forming one pair of sounds down the hallway. Mako continued this way, guiding her through, until they got to the wall at the far side and were faced with the elevators to the lower and upper levels.

It was out of sheer courtesy that he leaned over and pressed the button that indicated down rather than opting to take the stairs. He figured, if she truly was a staff member, it would be rude of him to have her take the stairs all because his imagination was going crazy. All because the idea of being in a locked room with someone his instincts was warning him could be dangerous might be a problem.

He'd pressed the button already, so, changing his mind wasn't an option. But, there was still an option, so he decided to break the silence with a question.

"You're not afraid of elevators, are you? My brother—" this wasn't true, but using Bolin as an excuse would be fine since this stranger didn't know him, "- is terrified that they're going to fall. He takes the stairs every time. If you'd prefer that, we can just walk down."

Mako didn't want to look at her too obviously. But, this wasn't the moment where it felt out of place. He allowed himself to focus more, to look for signs that this wasn't just paranoia making him uneasy with her.

The question from Mako was what made the young woman's eyes turn back to him. They widened briefly before settling back down, her hand tucking under her chin in consideration.

"I'd suggest you not tell your brother what a metal bender could do to such things. An iron box to the wrong person, it was a bit like gift wrapping yourself for the uniter, was it not?" She twisted a strand of her hair around her finger as she spoke, her voice lowering with doubt. "But I don't want to waste your time. The elevator should be much quicker. Even more so if we fell, I suppose…"

He gave a brief huff of a laugh, less from amusement than discomfort at how true it was. "Yeah I definitely wouldn't bring that up."

The start of a laugh, even an uncomfortable one, drew an instinctive smile from the girl. "Perhaps we should leave the bringing up to the elevator."

Mako almost snorted. He forced himself to hide it as much as he could, letting out a light, stifled huff instead.

A strange sort of stillness fell between them in the aftermath. It was up to Mako to break it.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather take the stairs, then?" He asked, his composure returning. "My time, ma'am, is the least of your concerns. You're a guest. This is my job."

The young woman's hand stopped twisting the ringlet of her curls, but it didn't quite drop it, either. It seemed that the longer he was speaking to her, the more she was transfixed by him.

"…You are quite kind." The silver of her own stare becoming eclipsed by the black of her pupils as she spoke. In spite of her efforts not to give way, there was a sense of wonder in her tone. "Mildly incorrect, I think. But kind. Thank you. I'll appreciate the stairs."

"Just doing my job." Mako raised his hand just enough to gesture beside the elevator, towards the door to the stairwell.

The door to the elevator opened, the doors sliding to reveal the light, and give a sizable ding in the process. The young woman tilted her head a bit as she looked back to Mako, her demeanor considerably softer than before. "Should I allow you to prioritize all my concerns, officer?"

In spite of himself, in spite of that nagging suspicion that something about this—about her—felt wrong, somehow, Mako grinned back. "So long as you're a guest and I'm on shift, yes-"

The doors to the elevators slid shut, casting the shadows back across the corridor. Mako thought nothing of it as he'd stepped away towards the stairwell. He'd barely spared a glance towards the arrow above the elevator, marking the floor it was on, until the lights went out.

An immediate darkness stretched through the building—not just their corner of the hall, but the conference rooms and entryways. Any faces of the diplomats, staff and secretaries that had lined the hall became the faintest outlines of blips.

"The generator!" someone yelled. "Someone get the generator!"

Another voice overlapped "Hold on! I'm a fire-bender!"

In the sudden darkness, Mako gasped out. He'd reached a hand for the girl he'd been guiding, only for him to feel the same against his own. It was the softest possible touch, hesitant, but there.

"Stay close," Mako whispered down to the girl. "This could just be a problem with the generator."

He could only hope it was that simple.

Soon enough, one of the rooms began to show a light at the end of it. The electricity was out, but at least a few people could hold a flame in their palms or set a candle. Mako raised his opposite wrist and flicked it to do the same, sparking a small flame over his palm. A small radius of golden light shone around the pair, giving them some visibility into the other faces nearby.

"Everyone, stay calm," Mako called out, the words an instinctive script from training. "I'm an officer of—"

An officer of the Republic City Police Department. That was how the sentence was supposed to go. Then, there was a flash. And any other plan or script he had was done.

The darkness twisted into a flash of light too intense to be natural. The only choices as it flooded through the space were to block your eyes, or look into solid whiteness until they went blank.

Mako dropped the flame. He raised his arm to shield his eyes, blocking what he could from the blast.

The building shook with violent recoil. They didn't have to see it to hear the glass of a chandelier clank against itself, or feel the floor vibrate beneath their shoes before it began to crack. A coat of debris began to fall across their faces, as light as snow, yet as uncomfortable and oddly bitter as ash.

There was no time to settle, or even to see, before a piercing scream shot down the hall. It was from the same direction as the diplomats had been in.

Mako's grip tightened on the hand beside him. He couldn't clearly see the details of where they were over the spots in his eyes. His arm hadn't raised fast enough to block out the flash entirely. Still, that didn't stop him from knowing where they were, and what they had to do. "We've gotta go!"

The girl didn't answer him with words. All she did was firm her grip, her fingers weaving through his.

Mako took off in a sprint, pulling the girl with him. He'd been prepared to feel the weight of carrying a frightened civilian in his wake. Instead, there hadn't been much resistance at all. She kept pace with his steps as they rushed through the debris, racing against the cracking walls.

Shards of glass from the overly ornate light fixtures dropped like knives, slicing at anyone unlucky enough to be in range. One hit Mako's shoulder, cutting through his uniform jacket and through his skin. It was the adrenaline and the darkness that kept him from feeling it as more than a sting. Even if he did, there was no time for it to matter.

They weaved through the hall until making it back towards the main entranceway.

"Those doors-" Mako panted, pointing forward to the entrances-turned-exits. "Go! Please! I gotta help others-"

When they'd finally stopped running, that was when Mako could finally hear the difference between him alone, and him with the stranger. The girl's hair was clinging to her face in odd spots, her breathing unsteady. She broke her hand from his grip.

"Wait, please—"

Before Mako could argue, before anything else could fall, the young woman took one step closer to Mako. She untied a cream colored ribbon from her forehead and wrapped it around Mako's shoulder, tying off the wound. The blood from the open injury began to seep through the ribbon almost instantly. It wouldn't hold well. Still, it was something.

"Ah. Thanks."

Her hand drifted slightly further up, her fingertips brushing the collar of his jacket before settling at the tip of his chin. It was the kind of gesture that, another time, Mako might have thought would draw him in for a kiss.

"Stay safe," she'd whispered, the words nearly swallowed by the rumbling of the falling structure. "If you're a lucky man, we'll never meet again."

Without the ribbon to hide the mark, it was the most she could do to duck and run. It may not have looked suspicious, considering that she'd sprinted off in the direction of the exits. But, for some reason, Mako had spared that extra second to watch the girl leave.

She'd bowed her head, but not enough to hide what that ribbon had concealed before. That girl… she had a tattoo of an eye on her forehead.

Mako turned around, back into the wreckage. He had a job to do.

He reached down to his belt, for the staff issued radio. "Officer Bolin! Report!"