Handsome was not a word Asami threw around often, but it definitely applied to Mako. As the waiter led him to the secluded corner table she'd booked for the evening, several heads turned. The pro bender cleaned up nicely, slicked back hair and all, though Asami missed his usually tousled hair. He grinned when he spotted her and his gait quickened. The smile that stretched across Asami's face as he slid into the plush, red booth to sit beside her felt like the easiest thing in the world.

Around them, amid the clinks of wine glasses and cutlery, diners talked in hushed tones, some of them side-eyeing Asami or peeking at her over the tops of their wine lists they held too close to their faces to be legitimately reading. Asami ignored the eyes on her, though and struck up conversation with Mako, who was blind to the quiet ogling around them.

Though he'd never been to a restaurant this fancy—it showed in the way he ran a hand over the crimson velvet seat and gingerly picked up the ornate cup in front of him, barely taking a sip before placing it back down on the table, slowly, like it might shatter at a moment's notice—Mako seemed at ease. He spoke calmly, complemented her frequently, and he oozed a cool but charming confidence that didn't match his bending element in the slightest. Not that Asami minded. She was thoroughly won over.

The night was going perfectly and dinner hadn't even arrived yet, though the first course would be due any moment. Food would be a sizable distraction, as would be the winding down time afterwards, Asami imagined, so if she wanted to test her soul mate theory, she had to act now. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about the possibilities of Mako and her being meant for each other since she'd run into him yesterday, so she was eager, to say the least, to put Mako to the test.

It had to be done without him knowing what was happening, lest the result be skewed; not that Mako would fake being her soul mate if he caught her, but it wouldn't be the first time somebody tried that with her. Asami slipped her salad fork off the table when Mako was too busy regaling her with the Fire Ferrets' last pro bending match to notice what she was doing. It would be better if she didn't have to explain herself, because what she was about to do was silly, something one of her schoolmates would do, but she had to know.

Harming herself for someone, even if it was her soul mate, would be wrong, so she went for a safer, although not exactly pain-free route. While she maneuvered the tines of the fork to rest against the meat of her left palm, she reached out her right hand and set it atop Mako's left hand resting on the table. He noticed enough to stutter in his story and Asami enjoyed the way the tips of his ears burned.

Under the table, out of sight from anyone close enough to be watching, Asami's hand clenched around the fork, and she barely winced as the metal poked her flesh, hard enough to mildly hurt but not enough to draw blood. Mako's corresponding hand, trapped beneath her free one, didn't so much as twitch. In fact, Mako kept going on with his story without any sign of a burden.

Asami frowned, squeezing the fork intermittently, but Mako didn't react any differently. She'd heard stories of people hardly feeling pain until they first laid eyes on their soul mate, or people who had higher tolerances of pain barely felt little things like forks being jabbed into their partner's palm. Maybe Mako just wasn't as sensitive or attuned to her yet.

Another harder stab to a softer part of Asami's palm garnered nothing. Even repeatedly pressing her thumb to the points of the eating implement proved to be fruitless. Either Mako was too tough to react or he wasn't feeling anything at all. Based on the way he never once paused in their conversation, Asami feared it was the latter. Hadn't she felt it when her scooter collided with him yesterday? They had to be soul mates. What were the odds of someone else getting hurt at the exact same time she and Mako had quite literally and painfully run into each other?

With a sigh, Asami slipped the fork back into formation on the table just before the waiter arrived to serve them. She laughed a little at the way Mako's eyes bulged at the sight of the eloquent dishes she'd ordered for them, how he smiled after taking the first bite.

After the resounding failure that was her fork experiment, Asami found herself saying, between small bites of food, "So I've seen and heard plenty about you getting beat up in the ring. What about your mysterious soul mate pains? That must be awful, what with your own bruises."

Mako hastily dabbed at his mouth with his napkin before speaking. "Actually, I haven't felt much, which is lucky, I guess. Whoever my soul mate is probably pretty safe most of the time."

His golden eyes lingered on her face for a moment before he ate another spoonful of broth. Asami tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and tried not blush. She lived a pampered lifestyle and was safer than most for sure, and had experienced only minor injuries from fixing and building machines with her father (a finger pinched between gears here, a minor cut or welding burn there). The only devastating, all encompassing feeling of pain came with her mother's death, but that had happened when she was so young. If Mako was her soul mate, he probably wouldn't even remember.

Then again, he'd lost his parents, too. Perhaps her portion of crippling grief he was meant to feel was swallowed up by his own loss, though she didn't know whether or not he lost his parents within the same time period as her mother's passing. And she didn't have the heart to ask; wounds like that shouldn't be reopened so carelessly, she knew.

Mako coughed a little and looked at her again. "What about you?"

Asami shook her head, realizing she never properly responded before. "My connection with my soul mate is fairly strong. I've experienced a lot of their pain over the years, especially recently."

"You don't say." The grin on Mako's face made Asami's heart beat stutter; could he be thinking of their meeting yesterday?

She nodded. "Ever since I was a kid basically." She sipped her water and peered at the boy beside her, regarding his face.

Mako nodded, frowning a little, his eyebrows knitting together, but when his eyes found Asami's, his face smoothed out and he gave her a small smile. He opened his mouth to say something when the waiter approached, bowing slightly, before asking, "Pardon me, Miss Sato. Are you ready for the next course?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Mako's empty bowl. "Yes, please."

The waiter bowed again and retreated back to the kitchen. Beside her, Mako's body shifted so he was facing her. "Miss Sato? You wouldn't happen to be related to Hiroshi Sato, creator of the Satomobile?"

"Yeah." Asami shrugged. "He's my dad."

"Get out of town!" Mako reacted like so many before him had: shock, followed by eyes glazed in wonderment, leaning forward in interest, excitement dripping from every word that left his lips.

"I'm serious. You want to meet him?" She asked carefully before taking a sip of her drink to hide the tightness in her face.

His reaction to her offer was just as animated, though he at least had the grace to lean back into the plush booth and regain his cool guy façade with crossed arms and a cocked eyebrow.

He took her up on the offer, like many men and women did when they learned whom she was, but the way Mako's eyes softened when he said it made it sound like he was accepting to go on another date, which warmed Asami.

Tonight's mission to determine if Mako was her soul mate was not the resounding success she had imagined. Asami even began to doubt whether they were fated to be together. But whether he was her soul mate or not, Asami couldn't help but like Mako. By evening's end, she made plans to pick him up for a tour of her father's factory.

Mako was kind, handsome, and interested in her, and she him, even though she wasn't as sure they were soul mates. Though confusing and unclear at the moment, perhaps fate would straighten everything out given time, she thought as she left the restaurant that night, brushing her fingers over the spot on her cheek where Mako had pressed a chaste kiss, feeling happier than she'd been in a while.

Korra massaged the heel of her left hand against the table. Tarrlok's offer to join his task force still buzzed in her head and, coupled with the weird, itchy sensation in her palm, and the concerned looks Tenzin kept shooting her across the table, she was just about out of patience.

If Tarrlok asked her about the task force a week ago, she would've joined instantly. But with her most recent nightmare of chi blockers attacking and Amon stripping her of her bending still fresh in her mind, she wasn't exactly eager to get back out there in harm's way.

At least her soul mate would appreciate the break from getting beat up along the chi paths, or getting knocked out entirely. Or maybe not, seeing as they were intent on annoying Korra by doing who knows what to their hand. She massaged her left palm again before wrapping it around the warm bowl of rice in front of her. At least the heat seeping through the porcelain made the sensation almost unnoticeable.

Maybe it was Mako working on a new firebending move. Or maybe he was at the plant, working a long shift again, and his hand was growing tired of conducting lightning strikes.

Even now, among the fear and pressure to do something as the Avatar, Korra could still relish in the spark she felt between her and the tall firebender. They bonded over their search for, and subsequent rescue of Bolin. She still remembered what it felt like to have her head cushioned by his shoulder as they woke together, cuddled against Naga, tense and awkward as it was. Or later, the mixed look of appreciation, excitement, and maybe something more—an undercurrent that made her shiver and him look away sheepishly—after they escaped from Amon's rally with a scared but unharmed Bolin. And wasn't that something to look into? Soul mates felt sparks, currents, magnetic pulls like this, right? Maybe?

Dinner came to a close and Tenzin suggested she attempt to meditate, but all she thought about, as she assumed the lotus position in the clear, quiet meditation gazebo that looked out over the black waters of the bay and the brilliantly lit city, was how she could approach Mako and ask if he felt the spark, too.

Hope you liked this chapter! Comments/questions/constructive criticism are always appreciated. ^_^