A/N: I am so excited after seeing all the leaks over the weekend! And I finally finished this chapter so enjoy ^_^

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender or Legend of Korra.

Chapter Thirteen: Dark Alley

Six Years Ago

Kenji sat at the small kitchen table, manuscripts stacked near his elbows. In front of him was an old typewriter which he had brought along from his native Fire Nation village. It was so worn that the characters on the key presses had been rubbed away with just a few of them surviving due to infrequent usage. The piece of paper in the carriage was resolutely blank as Kenji stared at the blank white surface, willing himself to write the next line, a word, a single letter even.

Just then, the door to the living room creaked open and his oldest son Mako entered with a thick battered book clutched in his hands. Mako had recently turned eleven but was still growing like a weed, taller than most boys around his age. He edged into the room, clearly uncertain whether he should bother his father or not.

"Mako, you're home early," Kenji said, knowing full well that Mako usually spent most of his days indoors reading books. "Shouldn't you be outside playing with your friends?"

A flicker of annoyance passed Mako's face but Kenji barely noticed. He had spotted the title of the book Mako was reading, Fire Nation History Vol. IV: The Hundred Year War.

"Where'd you find that, kiddo?" asked Kenji, gesturing to the heavy book.

Relieved that his father had finally taken notice, Mako gingerly placed the book on the table, careful not to disturb the carefully stacked manuscripts. Instead of opening the book, he lightly placed a hand on it before taking a deep breath.

"I've been reading this book," Mako began, lightly patting the worn cover of the history book, "and I've been wondering, Dad, what do you think of the Hundred Year War?"

Kenji looked at his son with some surprise. Though he had recounted countless stories of his childhood years in his hometown, none of his children had ever asked something so specific about his native country, especially not his opinion of the Hundred Year War, the war that had ended so many lives and dreams over a century-long period.

Glancing at the dusty tomb lying innocently on the table, Kenji decided to try a different tactic instead of honestly answering.

"Well, Mako, you've read the book so why don't we hear what your opinion first?" suggest Kenji, trying to gauge the reason his son was asking such a sensitive question, though he did have his suspicions.

Mako looked slightly taken aback at his father's request but, after a momentary pause, said carefully, "I thought it was terrible how all the airbenders were killed. All of them except Avatar Aang, I mean."

Kenji nodded. His son had definitely read the book cover to cover. There was no way the tiny one-room schoolhouse in the neighboring town would go into specifics about the Hundred Year War. Not even in the Fire Nation schools did they mention the gruesome airbender massacre to a bunch of children. At least, not in his days.

"I think so, too, Mako," agreed Kenji. "It was a terrible thing. But you know how it ended right? Fire Lord Ozai was defeated by Avatar Aang. Then he and Fire Lord Zuko created the United Republic Nations."

Mako nodded but still seemed uncomfortable about something. Kenji waited for his son to ask the question he himself had asked at a much older age.

"But… See, Dad… Weren't the Fire Nation… evil for doing all those things?" asked Mako, not quite meeting his father's amber eyes which were the exact same color as his own.

Kenji sneaked a glance at his still stubbornly blank piece of paper in the typewriter carriage then looked back at his son who appeared half-afraid of the answer his father would give. Despite trying to be a supportive father – especially when it came to education – Kenji wasn't at all thrilled to discuss the moral implications of the war his people had caused more than sixty years ago, at least not with his eleven-year-old son. Unfortunately for him, Mako happened to be incredibly persistent when it came to books and things he did not understand. It was more than likely Mako would not budge until Kenji gave him a satisfactory answer. Kenji inwardly sighed, trying his best to answer like a kind, understanding father would.

"The thing is Mako, it's true that the Fire Nation was responsible for attacking the Air Nomads and causing the Hundred Year War," he began. "But you have to remember that most of the responsibility falls to the leaders who decided to attack in the first place. While Fire Lord Ozai as well as his father and his grandfather were terrible people, that doesn't make all people from Fire Nation evil." He paused. "After all, the person who helped to end the war and also create the United Republic Nations was none other than Ozai's son, the celebrated Fire Lord Zuko. I promise you that the Fire Nation of today has long since learned its lesson and they're no more threatening than you or me."

Mako didn't say anything and stood silent, staring into his father's eyes. Kenji could not tell what his son was thinking but he now had a question he wanted to ask Mako.

"Why did you want to know about this, Mako? Did you learn this in school?" asked Kenji, glancing at the book. He now remembered that this thick tomb was one of his college course books from his one year at Ba Sing Se University. Though he distinctly remembered stashing it somewhere with a lot of his older works, Mako must have come across it in his never-ending search for more reading material, something that their tiny Earth Kindgom village severely lacked.

Mako averted his gaze and shrugged nonchalantly. "No, it wasn't during class. I just heard some kids talking about it and I got… got curious," he mumbled, absentmindedly drumming his fingers on the cover of Fire Nation History Vol. IV: The Hundred Year War.

"Really?" said Kenji with a slight sinking sensation in his heart. "What did the kids say?"

For a split-second, it appeared Mako was about to burst out with an incredibly detailed account of what the boys had said about the Hundred Year War but then the moment passed and he sighed slowly.

"Nothing," answered Mako, and this time, he looked straight into his father's eyes, staring into the depths of amber as though looking in a mirror. "They just mentioned the war in passing."

Kenji nodded; secretly relieved though in the back of his mind he knew Mako was hiding something. But Kenji had a manuscript to finish and Mako was already picking up the heavy book off the table. Without another backward glance, the eleven-year-old made his way over to the open door leading to the living room, swaying slightly underneath the weight of the dusty tomb, and left the kitchen.

After a moment's pause, Kenji returned to the typewriter, contemplating the empty white blank that seemed to taunt him. Unknown Kenji, Mako was also being taunted though not by the inability to fill empty space. He was taunted by the knowledge of the Hundred Year War and the fact that the stories the children told about his ancestry were not fictional at all.

Present Day

The merchants of Shin Ren Town observed the painfully empty streets, the thin trickle of customers slowly examining each potential purchase at a snail's pace before moving on. As one man yawned behind his hand, the many boxes of apples lying unsold at his feet, he saw a commotion up the street, his fellow merchants' heads all swiveling to see what it was.

It was a strange sight. Two teenagers, one incredibly tall and the other stout, sprinted at breakneck speed through the marketplace followed by a small group of burly looking men, all baring their teeth. The man leading the group was the thickest of the bunch, the veins on his neck bulging as he rampaged past the merchants, his strange haircut drawing more attention than the racket they were all making as they chased the two boys through the market.

After a while, the angry shouting of the burly men died away and the merchants shrugged and went back to their work, trying to sell their products with barely a handful of customers.

It was growing steadily darker as the brothers sprinted down the road. Mako ran, his lungs moments away from bursting, trying not to think about what the men would do if they caught up. Bolin was compensating for his shorter legs by earthbending the ground to propel himself forward but, as the earthbender had been forced to skip dinner, he was much too drained to help his brother as well.

They made it out of the marketplace and dashed along the mostly empty street of Shin Ren Town's residential area, scanning the road up ahead for a place to hide. The houses lining the side of the road seemed deserted as most of the residents were either at the marketplace or the circus, enjoying a fun-filled time that did not include being chased by brutal thugs.

Mako and Bolin cut a corner. Spotting the mouth of a narrow alleyway, Mako grabbed his panting brother by the shoulder and pulled them both into the alley and squatting behind a barrel.

Outside on the streets, the rampaging footsteps halted, the threatening shouts of the thugs utterly bemused. One of them bellowed angrily, "Where'd they go? They were just 'ere!"

Just inside the alley, the Mako had one hand clamped over his brother's mouth to stifle his heavy panting while he strained his ears to hear any signs of the thugs approaching. He sincerely hoped that the much darker alleyway and the alcohol level of the men would render the brothers invisible to their eyes should they choose come this way. However, the worst case scenario always seemed to favor Mako in such desperate times so he wasn't too optimistic.

The men continued talking, the words incoherent from where Mako and Bolin were hiding. To Mako's relief, however, the tone of their collective voices seemed to be that of growing frustration. Either the men could not spot the alleyway or they were still debating which way to go.

"Oi, enough of this!" shouted the unmistakable voice of the leader. Mako gulped as the gruff voice continued, "Those bloody vermin couldn't have got far. You three go that way. Me and Kun here will take the alley."

Swearing inwardly, Mako tried to collect his thoughts. There was no way they could climb up to roof without being seen and dragged down by the feet. He doubted they could make a clean escape out the other end of alleyway before the thugs got any closer either. As the gears in his brain meshed haphazardly, trying to conjure up an escape plan that did not exist, the unmistakable footsteps of the thugs drew nearer and nearer.

Bolin, his brother's hand still clamped firmly over his mouth, considered fighting. Theoretically he and Mako could take one opponent each. With a bit of hypothetical luck, they might just be able to slip away after landing a few punches. But the idea, purely thought up out of sheer desperation, collapsed under the brutal reality that the two brothers had never trained for a fight before. The most earthbending Bolin had ever done usually had something to do with farming, hardly lethal unless he was serious about destroying the entire alley and the houses on either side. Mako, having had absolutely no training for the past two years, was rarely known to use his firebending other than to weld steel and perhaps start a kitchen fire.

When the footsteps seemed just a few paces away, Mako removed his hand from Bolin's mouth and held up three fingers. When Bolin nodded, Mako counted down to three on his fingers before –

"Arggh!"

The man in the lead, an ugly brutish fellow with curls who had been addressed as Kun, doubled over as Mako sent the barrel flying at the thugs' knees. The curly-headed man tripped, banging his head on a wall and yelling in pain. The man with the mullet hair avoided barrel and instead threw a series of sharp knives at the brothers who through themselves sideways to avoid being hit.

"Take that!" shouted Bolin, stomping the ground and, with a steady punch, sent a block of solid rock sailing at the men's heads.

To Bolin's astonishment, the leader performed an easy backflip, avoiding the rock which sailed over his head and out of sight. He then countered by sending another knife flying in Bolin's direction. Bolin created a barrier just in time which blocked the knife from making contact with his face. Mako kicked a stream of fire at Kun who dived sideways.

"I'm outta here!" cried Kun when a solid stone spear narrowly missed his head. Stumbling over his feet, the curly-haired man fled the fight, leaving the other behind. To the mullet man's credit, he seemed quite oblivious to the fact that his companion had just ditched him and kept up his end of the fight as though he had entered the foray on his own.

Secretly glad that they had one less person to deal with, Mako repeatedly punched the air, fireballs shooting from his fists and zooming like bright comets down the alley. With a savage roar, the man dodged the first two fireballs but seemed to hesitate when the second round of punching came rocketing toward him.

SWOOSH!

Just as Mako thought the fight was over, their opponent literally extinguished the fireballs with a series of knife-hand blocks and, with an angry growl, roundhouse-kicked the last fireball into curls of smoke.

"You're a firebender?" asked an amazed Bolin, dropping the block of stone he had been about to hurl. "Then why the heck are you attacking Mako?"

The mullet man wiped his mouth, breathing heavily though not from exhaustion. He looked furious – perhaps even murderous – his black eyes boring into Mako's amber ones as though hoping his poisonous gaze would somehow harm the golden-eyed teenager.

"I ain't fighting you because you're a firebender, son," said the man coldly, "Me and you, we're different, very, very different. For one thing, Old Yongzheng here ain't a yellow-eyed freak like Fire Lord Zuko." He spat at the ground in disgust.

"Fire Lord Zuko?" repeated Mako, quizzically. "But he wasn't a bad person, he was against the war. He helped create the United Republic Nations."

Yongzheng grunted with laughter, clearly amused by Mako's schoolboy recital of Fire Nation history.

"Helped? Helped?" he repeated, a menacingly look on his face. "He did more than help, son, he founded the wretched place, didn't he; The United Republic of Nations and, more importantly, its capital, Republic City."

Both Mako and Bolin's blood seemed to run cold at Yongzheng's words. Barely a week had passed and yet another firebender was expressing hatred about a city where Kenji had disappeared. The brothers had both assumed the thugs to be regular Firebender haters but this assumption was turning out to be false. Was it possible that this man, who seemed so deteremined to hurt them, hated the city for the same reason Iriah did? Did this have something to do with the Equalists?

Yongzheng continued, still addressing Mako, "There's a reason the four nations kept to themselves, son. Benders of different elements were never meant to mix. But that didn't stop the great Fire Lord Zuko and his old pal Avatar Aang from breaking that balance."

The night was really closing in now. Darkness was falling rapidly and in the alleyway, Bolin could barely see the outline of the man, still staring darkly at the Mako who was standing right next to Bolin. A strange, eerie silence seemed to fill the air like mist, trapping them all in its haze.

"Never been to the United Republic, have you lads?" asked Yongzheng, his face leering out of the gloom, but just barely. "Chaos, it is. Utter destruction. And all because of one scumbag Fire Lord and, of course, his idiotic Fire Nation supporters."

Bolin chanced a sideways glance in the dark, a careless move on his part. In the split-second he took his eyes off Yongzheng, the man firebended a whip of flame straight at Bolin who was too slow to block it. With a cry of pain, Bolin stumbled backward, clutching his left shoulder which was badly burned.

"Bolin!" cried Mako, taking a worried step toward his brother though at the same time keeping an eye on Yongzheng who was laughing, a cruel mirthless bark in the dark alleyway.

"Now that the little earthbender is out of the game, I can get what I came for," said Yongzheng in a low, dangerous voice.

Though Mako could barely make out the shadowy outline of his foe, he thought he saw the man grin a terrifyingly smile, a smile a venomous serpent would adopt before swallowing his prey whole. Without warning, Yongzheng shifted his stance and punched once, sending a stream of hot flames where Mako's chest would have been had he not ducked in time, pushing his brother to safety as he did.

Mako jumped back to his feet, leaving Bolin on the ground groaning with pain. The fear in Mako's mind had tripled in the last few seconds. It was obvious that Yongzheng, despite his hatred for the Fire Nation, was an incredibly gifted and powerful firebender, easily surpassing Mako who hadn't properly trained in the last two years.

Trying not to betray the terror constricting his chest, Mako stepped in front of Bolin who was clutching his wounded shoulder and shouted out with more courage than he felt, "What do you want?"

The answer came ready and as cold as ice.

"Agni Kai."

A/N: Oooh, now I've done it. How am I supposed to write an Agni Kai scene? Only one way to find out :D