"Well, tonight's match is looking up to be a promising one!" claimed the excited sportscaster. "It's the Fire Ferrets against the Boar-q-pines in what's sure to be one of the matches of the season. These teams have had a rivalry in recent years unlike anything we've ever seen before."

"Yeah, it's pretty intense," said another voice. "Pro-benders these days are really fired up. Get it? Fired up? Fire Ferrets?"

"No folks, you are not mistaken. That is, in fact, the voice of the man joining me in the booth on this special night. He is the former pro-bending and mover icon of the world: Bolin!"

"It's a pleasure to be here tonight, Mr. Shinobi. I can't wait for things to get started."

The radio was the only source of audio in the desolate office aside from a flickering bulb in a dying lamp. Sounds of cheering burst through the speaker, echoing in the empty space. There were but two lone souls remaining in the police station at such a late hour. Their only decent source of entertainment came from the little brown box, and given their taxing work, entertainment was desperately required.

Chen sat in front of the radio with crossed legs, listening intently and smiling as if he was not in a dark, looming office. Mako was hunched over his desk, staring at the files that poured over his desk and consumed him. Last night, he had witnessed a suicide most surely by coincidence, and he could not fully wrap his head around the details. Bow—the young driver who was participating in the street race that led to the act of manslaughter—was taken in for questioning earlier that day, although he was shortly released. It was Lin who insisted on interrogating the poor soul, who was sniffling and crying for his parents for the duration of the process. Mako was skeptical from the beginning; he knew the poor kid wasn't a murderer. It was an unfortunate accident, one that would probably haunt Bow for the rest of his life. Worst of all, it wasn't his fault at all.

The blame truly laid with Feng, Kuzo's young son. According to Mako's files, Feng was a miserable wretch who had been living in poverty for several years. He was a petty thief, a poor investor, a disrespectful son, and a shameful mark on his entire family. Now, he was dead, his body lying in pieces in the morgue.

"You know, people really seem to like your brother," Chen said suddenly.

"Yeah, he's an icon alright," Mako agreed half-heartedly.

"I remember when I first saw a Nuktuk mover," Chen reflected. "It was so cool, unlike anything I've ever seen before. It had action, and drama, and then there was that scene where Nuktuk picked up the boulder and—"

"Could you keep quiet a little? I'm trying to work over here."

"You should try to be a little more like your brother, Mako," Chen suggested. "He's such a nice guy, and he seems like a good listener and—"

"Okay Chen, I get it," Mako groaned. He looked closer at his files, but finding nothing, slammed his fist into the desk. "Man, I just don't get it."

"Get what?"

"These deaths," explained Mako. "It feels like they're related somehow, but nothing is lining up."

"How is nothing lining up? I think it's pretty obvious: father gets guilt, son feels depressed about it, ends his own life to be with his dad. Done, case closed."

"Except that Kuzo and Feng haven't spoken to each other in years. That's the weird part. The two of them seemed to have drifted pretty far apart. The last time they were near each other, Feng nearly robbed his father blind. They were barely connected. When Feng was informed about his father dying, the report says that he showed almost no emotion about it whatsoever. I'm not sure a suicide could be so easily caused by the death of someone that is barely considered family at all."

"Hey, family runs deep," was all Chen could say. "It's possible that Feng wanted to reunite, and then a tragedy happened. Maybe he felt so guilty that he took his own life to compensate all of the evil. Heck, maybe he actually was the killer, and since he felt so horrible about the act afterwards, he couldn't live with himself." Chen stopped to admire his own train of thought. "Yeah… that's why he acted indifferent when he was told that Kuzo died, because he already knew he was dead! It's why 'greedy' was written on the wall: because Feng was a thief! Ha! If that's the case, then we don't even have to hunt down a murderer anymore; he's already taken care of. It's a win-win… except, well, I guess not that pretty of one if you think about it."

Mako sighed. It was a possibility; in fact, it was a very likely possibility. Grief was one of the most devastating weapons of all. It could pull a person down into the depths of the earth; rip apart their emotions, shut off their cognitive thinking entirely. Guilt was just as bad, if not even worse. Grief, guilt, rage, anguish: all were common emotions that could push one over the edge. Was that the answer? Was a family torn apart by a horrific murder—a murder possible committed by one of its own—and then in order to get back stability, and love, and cherishment, someone took their own life in a bloody spectacle?

There were only two problems Mako saw to this theory. One was the murder of Kuzo, and its methodology. Kuzo wasn't simply killed briefly without thought. He was maimed, tortured for hours, if not days before his end came. The act didn't fit Feng's psychological profile. The son was a thief, not a killer. He was a weak, cowardly man, one nearly incapable of torturing his father for such a lengthy period of time. He most likely didn't even have the medical knowledge to perform the acts. And if he felt such guilt afterwards, wouldn't he have experienced guilt while he was still torturing a man? Wouldn't he have realized his mistake sooner? How did he break into Kuzo's apartment, and how did no one find any evidence of him the next day when the police talked to him?

There was only one other problem Mako had with that theory. He was there when Feng stepped into the street at nine o'clock at night. Feng did not look remorseful, or burdened, or pained, or frustrated, or tired, or depressed, or unhappy. He looked afraid.

The phone on Mako's desk began to ring, startling him out of his thoughts. He suspected it might have been Sy. If it wasn't, it didn't change the fact that he needed to talk to her. After last night, she had barely uttered a single word to him. He could only imagine what she must have been going through. He could handle the sight of gore rather decently, but she was too innocent, too pure hearted to know how to deal with such graphic imagery. Nervously, Mako picked up the phone.

"This is Detective Mako," he said officially. "What do you need?"

"Hey, Mako. It's me."

The detective quickly recognized the voice. "Korra? What's going on?"

"Nothing really. That's sort of the problem. You said that you'd be working overtime, so I called you up."

"Yeah, but why?" he asked.

"Because there's nothing else to do," the Avatar groaned. "Tenzin's making me watch over things while he's out of the city. I just need someone to talk to."

"Hi Korra!" Chen shouted loudly.

"Hi Chen!" Korra returned his greeting with such cheer that Mako had to shove the blaring speaker away from his face. "So, are you listening to Bolin right now? He's actually doing pretty well on the commentary."

"You know," Mako said dejectedly. "I'm kind of working on something right now. It probably isn't the best time to talk."

"Is it that murder case?" Korra asked, concerned. "I meant to ask about that. It's horrible; such a nice guy having a horrible thing happen to him. Do you know how his family is holding up?"

"I have no idea how his daughter is. His son… his son died yesterday."

Korra was silent.

"Are you still there?"

"Yeah… I'm here," she sighed. "That's just awful. Was he—"

"No. Suicide. Saw it happen right in front of my eyes."

"Oh jeez… how did it happen? Are you holding up okay?"

"I'm feeling alright," said Mako firmly. "I just need to focus on solving this case."

"I'm telling you: Feng was the killer!" Chen said, throwing his arms up in disbelief. "He was acting out of guilt! The evidence is right in front of your face, and you still won't believe me! I know I'm onto something!"

Mako snapped. "Chen, not now. Anyway, it's been a pretty rough week."

"I really wish I could help you out in some way," Korra said honestly. "I want you to know that if there's anything I can do to help, all you need to do is ask, and then I'll be right on it."

"That's good to hear, but you shouldn't get too wrapped up in this. I think I can handle it. If you really want to help, you could convince Sy to stop making weird innuendos. Last night, she told me that she'd kidnap me and tie me in her basement, or something. Seriously, I can deal with murder, but that girl is starting to drive me nuts."

"Wait… you two are still dating?" Korra asked, her mood shifting from burdened to mildly amused within seconds. "I thought you broke up with that maniac months ago."

"No, we're still together," Mako said, taking pain in his own words. "You just didn't like her at all."

"Man, you have terrible choices in women," Korra joked. "I know that includes me, but you need to get that through your head."

Korra liked that particular joke. It was an easy joke to make, and it was easy to slip it into any practical conversation. She didn't know what made it so funny—the insult towards herself, the insult at Mako, or the fact that it was all true—but she was fond of it. Even now, when she was in a conversation focused primarily on murder, she still found a reason to use it. It was what she needed in such grim circumstances: levity.

She heard a clicking noise coming from her receiver. "Hold on," she informed Mako. "I've got someone on the other line. Give me a second."

It took Korra some fumbling to switch lines. In her dimly-lit room, she was sprawled across her bed, wearing nothing but undergarments; her legs were crossed over each other, and her hair was splayed out in a brown heap. She scratched her toned stomach with one hand as her other fingers tapped across the base of the phone. If someone was to walk in on her, they would probably find her revolting. Korra didn't care; her appearance really meant nothing, because no matter what she looked like, she was still herself.

"Hello?" she asked tiredly.

"Korra? It's Asami. We need to talk."

Immediately, Korra snapped to attention. She repositioned herself so that she was lying in a somewhat less exposing position. She patted down her hair back into place, straightened her shoulders, and draped a blanket over her legs.

"Oh, Asami," Korra said both happily and nervously. "What's going on? It's, uh, pretty late for a phone call."

"I meant to call you sooner, but I got sidetracked," Asami admitted. "Listen, there's something I want to tell you."

"Well, I'm actually on the phone with Mako right now," Korra said shamefully. The last impression she wanted to give was that she was blowing off her girlfriend to have a meaningful conversation with Mako. But then, inspiration struck. "Wait, I'll just connect you guys so we can all talk together!"

"Wait Korra," Asami said worriedly. "I kind of wanted us to talk in priva—"

Before Asami could finish, the transition was done. As it was, she found herself caught in the middle of a conversation that she really had no reason being a part of.

"Mako, I've got Asami on the line," Korra said with a hint of pride.

"Why did you do that?" Mako asked in confusion. He backtracked, "Not that I don't want to speak with her, which I do, but she really doesn't have anything to do with what we were talking about."

"Mako's right," said Asami. "I don't even know what you guys are doing, unless talking about Bolin. He sounds really good out there."

"I know, right?" Korra agreed. "Actually, I was ripping on Mako's girlfriend."

"The one I haven't met yet?"

"Yeah, and be glad you haven't."

"Korra, that's pretty harsh," Asami scolded. "But enough of that. Mako, can you please get off of the line? I have some… girl problems I need to talk to Korra about."

"You two can have all the space you need," Mako said sternly. "I have an investigation to work on. I don't know how I got distracted from that for so long, but it needs to end now."

"Aw," complained Chen suddenly. "But your friends are so fun to hang out with. By the way, congratulations on the engagement."

Mako raised an eyebrow. "Engagement? I'm not engaged."

"Not you," Chen explained. "Haven't you been paying any attention to the radio?"

"No, I haven't. I've been talking. Why?"

"Well, it's pretty obvious," Chen stated. "Your brother just announced his engagement twenty seconds ago. So, congratulations: you've just become a brother-in-law."

Note: Sorry if this chapter is a bit shorter than usual. We've been kind of busy the past week. Hopefully we can make these longer as we continue. As always, leave feedback if you can (seriously, that would be really cool of you), and we'll see you next time.