Mako didn't see anyone until much later, after he had had a chance to shower and change. He'd gone up to the attic for a while, but when he'd gotten there he'd been at a loss for something to do, and in the end he'd just gone down to the gym to wear himself out by pummeling a punching bag for an hour or two.
As a part of a pro-bending arena, it was important for the gym to be useable for water, earth, and firebenders alike. There were piles of heavy clay disks and nets to shoot them at for the earthbenders and specially designed weights filled with water for the waterbenders. Firebenders were a little simpler, because they didn't need their element provided. They just needed a nice fireproof area with good ventilation, and enough space to keep any innocent passer-byers out of the reach of the flames. Mako didn't know what the punching bags were made out of that gave him a punch-able amount of give but didn't burn to a crisp when it came into contact with fire, but he figured someone could probably make a fortune selling it as fire-proof clothing.
He lost track of the time he was there, his mind focused on the bag intensely. So intensely that he couldn't be positive how long she'd been standing there, watching him, before he noticed. Mako set his jaw, and his punches became a little more forceful with a little more fire bursting from his knuckles with each strike. He didn't feel like talking to her right now. He just felt like working until he was too tired to think, until he was too tired to make it further than his bed, and definitely until he was too tired to make it to the window that had the perfect view of Air Temple Island.
But the universe had never been very considerate of his feelings in the past.
Even after he noticed her, she stood there for what seemed like forever, staring at him until he felt her gaze on him acutely and sharply and his strikes slowly calmed down to a snail's pace. He didn't even realize at first when he stopped altogether, just standing there, staring at the un-charred bag. He didn`t want to see her, but she wasn't going to go away if he just stood there with his back to her.
When he looked, some unimportant part of his mind noted that the line that was supposed to mark the edge of the firebending area stood in between them, a bold line of black that somehow made him feel like there was a world separating them.
"Hey," he finally said when he decided that the silence had worn on for far too long. Abruptly her expression seemed to crack like melting ice, and a slight glare he hadn't even noticed disappeared. Suddenly she wasn't rigid or serious, but the Korra he knew, relaxed and casual with a slight self-righteous smile hovering around her lips.
"Hey to you to," she responded taking a step over the black line. Suddenly Mako felt like she was too close, even though the distance she crossed couldn't have been more than a foot or two. Her eyes flickered to the punching bag over his shoulder and back to him, "How long have you been in here?"
He shrugged, "I don't know, an hour or so? What time is it?" He hadn't been meticulously keeping track of the clock like he usually did when he trained. She raised her eyebrows as if surprised.
"Almost midnight." She said with an almost-laugh in her voice. Mako couldn't help but blink in surprise. Midnight? But he'd come down at eight, surely he couldn't have been there for four hours without realizing it—
Could he?
"You know," Korra said lightly as she walked up to the punching bag set up next to the one he'd been using, "Wearing yourself out like this isn't good right after a match. You're going to get hurt, and that just won't be good for anyone." She prodded the fabric lightly with her fingertips, looking doubtful. With one more glance at Mako's bag, she flicked her wrist and let a small stream of flame reach out and lick the grey material. When no mark was left, she pulled her arm back and punched it forward hard, letting out a violent jet of flame, engulfing the entire bag. When she let the fire go out, the bag still hung there innocently, the only sign that anything had gone near it at all a slight swing. "Cool." She muttered, circling the object curiously, "Where does Toza get this stuff? I would have killed for some gloves made of this six months ago."
"Korra," Mako finally snapped, taking her attention from the bag, "What are you doing here?"
She threw up her hands defensively, palms forward.
"Hey, don't get your panties in a knot. Tenzin will already have my head for staying here so late, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to stay a little longer. And Bolin told me you'd probably be here," she paused, nibbling on her bottom lip, before continuing, "I need to talk to you." He snorted a half-laugh, which seemed to irritate Korra, making her stand a little straighter and send him a withering glare, "About the match today."
"I thought we already talked about it. I'll stop protecting you in the arena." He scoffed, looking away from her face. She sighed.
"It's not that," he raised an eyebrow, and she quickly amended, "Okay, so maybe that's a big part of it, but teammates do block attacks for each other from time to time. My problem is that you're doing it so much that it's starting to affect your game."
Mako stared at her for a moment.
"…my game?"
"Yes!" said Korra, throwing up her hands in exasperation, "When I first saw you in the arena, you were 'Cool under fire' and 'Mr. Hat trick'. You know what I heard one girl call you after today's match? Mama Bear. Mama Bear, Mako. You're wasting all you're energy on protecting me, and you're starting to be less of a help in the actual matches! And the Fire Ferrets can't afford that if you want to win this thing!"
He stared at her a moment and she stared back, her eyes wide and insistent, almost begging him to listen to her. The stood like this for a long time, the silence thick in the air. Finally she broke it with a sigh.
"Look, Mako," she started seriously, "I know a lot of your strategy lies in letting the other team wear themselves out before you strike. And I can't watch you wear yourself out and endanger the match because you think I need your help. You're our team captain, and if we can't count on you to be your best, we're going to lose. And you're not going to get the winnings. And I understand that you need the winnings, you and Bolin both. So please," she turned and began to walk away from him, "Stop it." She paused and sent a slight glare over her shoulder, "And stop being a pushover. It sort of freaks me out when you don't disagree with me." And with that she snapped her head forward, ponytail flicking, and walked away purposefully.
He almost called out to her, told her to come back, but then she stepped over the black line, and he felt like she was already a world away, much too far to reach.