A/N: Yes! Legend of Korra now has a TV commercial and official site along with a fan club: Korra Nation. If you missed out on all the news, go search it because it's legitimate and awesome! Also, character bios of Mako and Bolin as well as Korra, Chief Bei Fong, and Tenzin were released on Nickelodeon's official site so go check that out as well. And enjoy the chapter!

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

Chapter Nineteen: By the River

The musty police station was cramped and windowless. Behind a single, badly scratched desk sat a broad, mustached officer with rough skin and beady eyes. Old wanted posters depicting crudely drawn criminals were peeling from the grimy walls; there were even several black-and-white photographs, so grainy that it was hard to tell one from the other. Lined up against the wall near the entrance was a row of sagging seats, a few occupied by people waiting to see the mustached officer who was currently dealing with a dark-haired teenager wearing a vest with the collar turned up even though it was summer.

"What do you mean you've dropped the case?" the boy could be overheard exclaiming, his voice rising above the previously conspiratorial whispering.

"I told you, kid," said the officer in a supremely exasperated tone, "we don't have the kind of resources to start a nationwide manhunt. This Yong-choon guy –"

" – it's Yongzheng, his name is written right here in this statement!" interrupted Mako, jabbing at piece of paper lying on the desk between them. "This is unacceptable, officer, it just is. You can't just give up like this when there's a murderer on the loose."

The officer was looking slightly uncomfortable at the sight of the teenager whose face was slowly growing red with rage.

"Look, kid, we've done the best we can do, all right?" said the officer, motioning for Mako to calm down. "But you've gotta understand; no one saw any of this happen."

"What? You've gotta be kidding, there's a dead body buried underground and you're saying there isn't enough proof?"

"No, kid, there ain't any proof," corrected the officer, flipping open the case file on his desk. "None, okay, kid? Says here you were even unconscious when the guy killed her. As for the body, we don't know what happened. There's no proof that a firebender burned her and ran off –"

"My brother and I were hospitalized with burns because of that man!" cried Mako, not caring if he was yelling at an authority figure.

"Keep it down, kid!" hissed the officer angrily; ducking low as though afraid someone might overhear him. He motioned for Mako to lean closer which he grudgingly did. "I get you're upset, kid, someone died and you couldn't help them." There was a short pause where Mako couldn't speak. The officer hurried on, "but you've gotta admit, kiddo, there ain't anyone in the world who can track down a murderer right now, not when he ran off in the dark like that. There were witnesses back in that noodle shop you were eatin' at and all but those other guys this killer was hanging around with are all gone as well. Vanished. Into thin air. So, much as we want to, kid, there ain't finding this guy. I can't help you with this."

And with that, the officer flipped the file shut. Mako sat there for a while longer, utterly stunned.

"That's the last of them, sir, that'll be six silver pieces," said Bolin, wiping sweat from his brow after setting down half a dozen crates of fresh vegetable down on the spacious kitchen floor.

The owner of the sushi restaurant he was currently standing in was a beefy man with thick arms and a wide girth. His face was surprisingly kind for man of his size and he smiled warmly as he counted the correct sum of money from a coin pocket tied around his waist.

"There you go, Bolin, hope to see you next week," said the owner, dropping the coins into Bolin's hand. "It's good to have someone reliable as you handling all my ingredients. Soul of the restaurant, you know!"

"You're welcome, Mr. Yori," replied Bolin, bowing slightly and then retreating out the back door.

Sunlight was beating the paved road outside, nearly blinding Bolin as he mounted a rickety bicycle which he had recently managed to scavenge from a dumpster. After starting a quick delivery system in town, the bicycle had certainly come in handy, especially after he'd managed to fix a makeshift cargo hold and proper binding to secure tall stacks of pretty much anything anyone wanted delivered. Moving faster down the streets now that the cargo hold was temporarily empty, Bolin sped down the road, moving to his next destination.

Today was a surprisingly busy day. Off the top of his head, Bolin remembered that he had at least six more deliveries to make, most of them heavy items which meant he could pick up more tips along the way if he skipped lunch and hustled.

One thing that dampened the prospect of a good day's earnings though was the look on Mako's face that very morning. Over a meager breakfast of egg and green beans, Bolin's older brother had said very little, brooding for longer periods than was strictly necessary during the short time they had been allowed by the debt collectors. As Bolin pedaled on, he pushed the mental image of his brother away, figuring that if he completed today's job early, he would pay a visit to the print shop Mako was working at.

Feeling lighter already, the earthbender cycled onward down the street, the wind whistling past his ear as he went.

It was sharp. Mako held the blade of the letter opener up to the sunlight, admiring the fine edge. He was standing alone at the bank of the river, the place he had once stood after a childhood fight, the very place he had chosen to tell his brother the news that their father was likely dead.

His father…

Vicious anger pulsed through his heart, forcing him to breathe deeper in order to calm himself.

'You left me in this mess,' he thought vehemently, gripping the handle tighter. 'You left me to take care of a broken family. You left me with these amber eyes. You left me to watch a friend die.'

It was a sickening mantra that spun in his mind over and over like a catchy tune. The summer heat was making the collar of his vest stick to his neck but Mako refused to fold them down. He knew that the scars were barely visible anymore yet he could not stand the sight of his exposed neck anymore. Right now, he couldn't even properly look into the river because he hated his reflection; hated the man he was reminded of most when he saw his own face.

"I hate this," he whispered to himself, looking down at the sharp blade.

He had filched it from Mr. Noh's office, knowing the aged man would not notice if one of several other letter openers went missing. The old man trusted Mako as he had trusted Mako's father when he'd been around. At that moment, Mako resented Mr. Noh's trust as it added another similarity between father and son.

Mako gazed at the flowing river, the dark earth visible beneath the clear water. He was careful not to get too close in case his reflection might show but suddenly, as he watched the water's unobstructed progress, he felt tears fill his eyes. As quickly as the raw rage had overtaken him, it evaporated, leaving him deflated like a crushed paper lantern, its inner light extinguished with nothing left but sorrow.

"I hate this," he repeated, all trace of anger gone. The voice that spoke was a dejected one, devoid of hope or light.

He thought back to the past few days. Slowly, like a spotted reel showing black-and-white film, he saw himself hugging little Min goodbye; bumping fists with Mireu as he left with Huaming; his mother crying alone in the kitchen at night, a pile of bank statements in front of her; Bolin fixing up a broken down bicycle to make a bit more money, not even realizing that his hands were bleeding from mishandling the parts; Iriah's grave with the wilted remains of white flowers; and then - skipping several years - his father saying goodbye, his father abandoning them.

Then came that morning's meeting with the officer, the news that the police were dropping the case. Mako had been expecting it deep down, knew it was a waste of manpower to go looking for someone who'd fled fast in the dead of night. But he couldn't keep his temper in check and he absolutely loathed how the murderer had gotten away.

'But Iriah's a murderer, too,' a small voice whispered. 'Maybe this is karma.'

"No," he said to himself, trying to shake the persistent voice at the back of his mind. "She wasn't a murderer. She was trying to save me. If I didn't have amber eyes she'd – I wouldn't –"

Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, his entire body convulsing with silent sobs of despair. A tidal wave of emotions crashed at his inner walls; guilt, regret, and the increasing feeling of abandonment. There was no one in the world to help him now, he thought, now kneeling at the river's bank. No one to guide him, to console him, to tell him it was okay.

'You killed her,' whispered the voice again. 'You're a danger, Mako. You always will be. This wasn't the first time and it won't be your last. Think about your family. What might happen to them because of you?'

Hands shaking so hard he could barely control them, Mako raised the letter opener high, angling the tip towards his chest. The sunlight glinted, reflecting off the sharp blade.

'It's for the best…' the voice whispered. 'Be brave…'

As Mako let out an inhuman roar, the knife plunged downward at a near-vertical angle. From the nearby trees, the birds fled, flying high into the endless sky, singing to the radiant sun.

Gasp! Cliffhanger *dundundun*