As fun as her date with Bolin was, Korra couldn't completely put Mako out of her mind. And it didn't help that despite her best efforts to persuade Bolin otherwise, he insisted they had a great thing between them, maybe even soul mate level. Though Korra hardly thought sharing the same sense of humor and taste in food meant you were made for someone.

Tonight, if Bolin kept up his denial, she'd have to correct him. Man, getting rejected by the brother she was crushing on while letting down the brother that had a crush on her was a disaster waiting to happen. As she climbed the steps up to the pro bending arena, Korra hoped none of this would effect her playing. She knew what winning the championship pot meant for Mako and Bolin, and she didn't want to screw that up.

That's when she spotted Mako sitting on the steps to her left. He stood, scowling, and she froze. Great, drama right before their quarter final match. Just what they needed. Before she could mumble a hello, Mako was snapping at her. "You've got Bolin all in a tizzy and I know you're only using him to get back at me!"

Korra flinched backwards. She took a deep breath, trying to will away the desire to yell. They really didn't need to fight right before going into the ring. "I am not. We're just having fun together. What do you care anyways? You've got Asami."

Something flickered across his face too quickly for Korra to discern. "I'm just looking out for my little brother." He wasn't very convincing, though and something clicked into place in Korra's head.

His tone, his anger out of nowhere. "Wait a minute, you're not worried about him. You're jealous. You do have feelings for me!" She couldn't stop the smirk that came as she watched Mako cycle through offended to nervous to pissed off.

He waved his arms around, fists clenched, eyebrows in a harsh, angry slant. "What? Pfft, jealous? Don't be ridiculous!"

The accompanying eye roll only made Korra more confident. She could hear the lies in his words, could see the cracks in his façade. She knew it! Mako did feel something! Korra placed her hands on her hips, smirking harder. "Admit it. You like me and you think we might be soul mates."

Mako jerked back. "What? There's no proof of that!"

But maybe there was, Korra thought, remembering the way her throat ached last night. She thought it was because she was trying not to cry, but it had lasted all night. "Did your throat hurt last night?" Korra held her breath; his answer could make or break everything.

Mako's eyebrows knitted together, confused by the change in conversation. He still answered angrily, though, a bite to each word. "Um, yeah. Up until I got up this morning. It was from yelling a lot because we won yesterday. What's your point?"

Korra's heart pounded hard against her chest. Oh wow. Mako…Mako really was…He wanted proof? "Well, I wasn't yelling at all last night…but my throat was scratchy, from the end of the match up until this morning. Sound familiar?"

Mako stiffened. His golden eyes bored into her and Korra thought that for a moment he was going to reach out, pull her into his arms, and kiss her. But then something snapped in his eyes and he looked away.

Distress crossed what little of his expression Korra could see. "Look, Asami and I just figured out—"

No. As kind and generous as she seemed, there was no way Asami was Mako's soul mate. Of that, Korra was almost certain, though she wasn't sure why or how she knew that. Korra cut Mako off with, "Yeah, but when you're with her, you know your pain doesn't match. But you feel it with me. I know you do. You know we're soul mates." She leaned forward, confident she was speaking the truth.

Mako clenched his fists and grit his teeth. "Get over yourself."

Was he really going to deny the proof she'd just offered him? "I'm just being honest!" she shouted, causing a few heads to turn.

"You're crazy!" Mako shouted just as loudly.

She couldn't believe him; judging by the way he reacted to the news about her throat, he thought their pain was linked, too. Yet here they were. "You're a liar!" Korra stormed off through a separate door from Mako.

She seethed all the way up to the changing room, ignoring fans, brushing through the throngs of people with more force than necessary. She dressed in a blur, then sat on the bench, ignoring Bolin's pre-game babbling with Pabu. Mako showed up, completely dressed, just minutes before their match and completely ignored Korra, which, if she was being honest, was fine. She wasn't sure she could string together a sentence that didn't involve the words "stupid" or "liar."

Then, they were being announced and Korra jogged out onto the Ferrets' side of the ring, offering a half wave to the already loud gathering around them. Then she took up a position on the opposite side of the ring from Mako. Bolin shot her a questioning look but she didn't know how to convey, "I pissed off your stubborn brother by calling him my soul mate," via a single look.

As the announcer introduced the two teams, Korra tried to channel her meditation techniques. She vowed to tune Mako out, to try and settle into a rhythm, focusing on only the opposition and what was directed at her. It was easy to focus on her opponents; she squared off against dozens of sparring partners before. Ignoring part of her surroundings wasn't hard either, though she could hear her tactics teacher's nagging voice in the back of her head, reminding her that battlefield awareness was equally as important as watching your opponent. But this wasn't a battle; this was a game.

The bell dinged and round one started off sloppy. Korra lobbed water rather than focusing on a single player. Somewhere beside her, Bolin flung earth with more precision, knocking one Boar-cupine to the ground and opening another one up for a blow. Korra dashed forward, ready to strike, but instead slammed straight into Mako's chest.

He grunted in pain as he and Korra fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Her irritation washed out the slight aches in her torso, though a small part of her fluttered when she saw Mako run a hand over his own chest, a grimace on his face. He looked at her, then away, muttering what Korra thought sounded like the word, "proof."

Bolin tried to rally them as Korra walked back to her side, but once the game got going again, the Boar-cupines wiped them out. All three of them got knocked down one right after the other, the buzzer blaring in their ears. As she stood, the bell signaling the end of round one, she stretched her back; she'd crashed against the floor pretty hard. Mako, a few feet away, mirrored her, and the fluttery feeling returned.

He wouldn't be able to explain his way out of this after the match. Though if they kept playing like they were, Korra couldn't imagine she'd want to talk about anything after a devastating loss. The bell for round two drew her back the match at hand.

Though the older players did their best to mount an offense, Korra staved off hits pretty well with a wall of water. She was able to them off without getting into trouble or into Mako's space long enough for Bolin to claim the round for them. She sighed with relief and shook out her stance, trying to get pumped for round three.

The third round started off just as poorly. Korra heard a splash of water, turned her head to see where Mako got hit, but as soon as she did so, she flew backwards as circular clay caught her in the sternum. Mako was hunched at the shoulders when Korra finally staggered to her feet and she'd be pretty happy about it if she wasn't so pissed at how she was playing right now. So she put all her energy into defending.

She almost dropped in relief when the time ran out and no one had gained any advantage. And she was grateful that Bolin volunteered to handle the tie-breaker, especially when he won. She and Mako shared a glance before quietly returning to the locker room. They didn't deserve to celebrate after that horrible display, she thought.

She was about to bail all together when Mako nudged her. "Meet me outside at the covered patio when you're done changing?"

Korra nodded mutely and watched as he left. Did he want to talk about the game? Or their possible soul mate status? She was back into her usual clothes and out the door before Bolin could reach her and ask what was up. She jogged down to the patio, out into the brisk night air, but only saw an empty expanse barely lit up by the golden arena lights at her back. She stepped forward to peek around the pillars holding up the patio roof but Mako wasn't there. With a sigh, she leaned against it. The coward probably changed his mind.

"How's your back?" Mako's voice cut in from behind her and made her jump.

So he connected the dots, too. At least to their shared back pain. Korra almost blurted out all the other times during the match where she'd seen him copy her, but settled for, "How's yours? Still think we're not soul mates?"

Mako shuffled up behind her. "Maybe. I dunno. It was hard to tell, with everything going on. There were a couple times where I thought…" He trailed off.

Korra rested more of her weight against the patio pillar. He really wasn't going to admit it, was he? "Save your breath, then." Korra pushed off the pillar and prepared to sidestep the taller boy.

Mako slid in front of her, his hands held up. "Wait. What I'm trying to say is, as much as you drive me crazy," he paused to sigh, and his arms dropped to his sides, "I also think you're pretty amazing, and I feel like we might be something…more."

Korra unfolded her arms and stared at him. His face was softer, the creases of irritation completely gone. Her head buzzed and had she just figured out airbending? Because she felt like she was floating. She wasn't unrequited. "So you do like me?" Korra looked to the ground, trying to hide the heat flooding her face, but smiling all the same.

Mako nodded and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up more than it already was. "Yes! But, I just found out Asami isn't my soul mate, and that sucked because I really like her too. And I don't want to get invested only to find out we're not soul mates. And all the pain in this match has got me really confused—"

Korra surged forward and kissed him hard, pouring every ounce of feeling she could into it. And then Mako's lips moved with hers, eager, soft, hot. Her blush raged, her pulse hastened, and she never wanted this moment to end because Mako, her soul mate, her other half, liked her, was kissing her. But the moment ended too soon. They both pulled back and Korra's eyes fluttered open, locked with Mako's and she saw the wonder, the spark she felt before reflected in amber. His face was lightly flushed, too. She almost leaned up and kissed him again when she caught movement over Mako's shoulder.

Bolin stood, several feet back, a bouquet in hand, tears streaming down his face. He turned around and ran, sobbing. All the good, warm feelings leaked out of her, replaced by an icy chill that even her breath of fire wouldn't be able to chase away. Mako whirled on her, scowling. "Look what you did!"

Oh no, she might've initiated the kiss but Mako didn't push her away. And that look in his eyes was incriminating enough. "Hey, you kissed me back!" she said. "You're just as guilty."

Mako let out an exasperated groan and chased after his younger brother. When Mako left, so did Korra's urge to fight. Her muscles went slack and she hugged herself. How did things get messed up so fast? "Well played, Korra."

Asami tapped her foot impatiently on the floorboard as the satomobile idled outside the family mansion. Her father insisted she wait for him to come along to the quarter final match, that he only had a phone call to make before departing. That had been over forty minutes ago. The match had no doubt started and Asami lamented the fact that she'd miss out on seeing her new, tentative friends get one step closer to the championship title.

They played so well last match, and tonight they were slated to go up against the Boar-cuepines, an older, though well-versed team. Asami had no doubt her friends' youthfulness could edge them out, though. Especially Korra, who, Asami was beginning to realize, was probably the fittest person she'd ever seen.

And now she was missing out on the opportunity to watch Korra and the fabulous bending brothers work their magic. With a huff, Asami threw open the car door and stepped out of the back of the car. She was going to drag her father out of his home office if she had to.

"Miss Sato," the driver called after her, but she ignored him, beginning her march up to the estate.

"Really, dad? I could've just gone on my own. I'm not a kid anymore," she said to no one in particular as she took the steps two at a time, up to the main door.

When the first spike of sensation came, Asami had just reached the door. Her hand, previously reaching out to grip the door handle and yank it open, flew to her chest instead. It was quick, like a full body smack, and after a few seconds, it all but disappeared. Asami took a moment to suck in a deep breath of air, gather herself, then entered the Sato estate.

Now that she knew it wasn't Mako, Asami wondered where her real soul mate was, and what they were doing. And when she was going to meet them. Her father would tell her to be patient, that she was young, but he'd met her mother when he was sixteen and they had so much time to be in young love's embrace. That's all Asami really wanted, too. Well, that and to get to the pro bending match. The sport was far more exciting when you actually knew the players on a personal level.

She was halfway to her father's office, treading heavily to alert him of her impatience and her presence, when a second wave swept up back. It was more surprising than anything, like she'd flopped down on a stiff bed, but it still made her falter. She trailed a hand down her spine as the feeling faded. At least her soul mate wasn't seriously hurt or anything.

The office door down the hall opened and her father, a pile of papers in his hand, stepped out. He didn't notice her, absorbed in whatever was written on the sheets. She coughed and made her way to him. "Dad, what's taking so long? We're going to miss our team's match. They're in the quarter finals."

Hiroshi tore his eyes from his reading and peered at her, eyebrows raised, glasses half slipping down the bridge of his nose. His mouth opened as recognition flitted across his face. He stuffed his hand in his right trouser pocket and fished out his golden, polished pocket watch, flicked it open with his thumb, then looked at her again, frowning. "So late already. I lost track of time."

With a shake of her head, Asami prepared to launch into a plea for him to hurry, but just as she opened her mouth to speak, an invisible force shot across her sternum and she grunted, doubling over as it rocked through her. Her soul mate must be smarting right about now. "Got into another fight, didn't you?" she whispered to herself.

"Asami! Are you all right?" One of her father's large, warm hands rubbed up and down her back.

Asami stood up straight as, for the third time that evening, her soul mate's pain vanished. "Yeah, just soul mate stuff, dad. The usual."

Her father frowned and put a gentle arm around her. He watched her for several seconds before speaking. "I suppose you came marching in here to drag me to the match. I'm sorry. I got caught up with a partner who doesn't take no for an answer." As he spoke, Asami saw his eyes settle back on the phone.

Asami tried not to pout. She loved her father dearly, but he could get so wrapped up in business deals that sometimes her interests were put off to the side. "It's okay. If we hurry, maybe we can catch the end of it."

Something in the office crackled behind them. Her father moved forward quickly, dropping his arm from her to cross his office and turn up the volume on the radio that sat on his desk. Shiro Shinobi's exuberant voice poured out, filling the room with the pro bending match narration. Asami walked into the office, too. Maybe the match was still in full swing.

"Bolin strikes from mid-air, knocking Chang to the edge of the circle. Another strike from Bolin and CHANG IS IN THE DRINK! Ooooo, that was a close one, folks! Youth trumps experience tonight."

In the background, the fans cheering sounded garbled and Asami could abrely make out the ring announcer saying, "The Fire Ferrets win their quarter final match!"

Her father's shoulders slumped and he refused to meet her eyes. "I am terribly sorry, Asami. I know how much going meant to you. If I could've avoided that call, I would have, but it was better not to upset him."

Asami sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I'll tell the driver to bring the car back into the garage." She turned to leave the room.

Her father called out behind her. "Asami—"

Suddenly, she felt tired, weighed down. Her heart ached, ever so slightly. "It's okay, dad." It really wasn't. "But if the same thing happens tomorrow night, I'll drive myself to the arena. I'm going to turn in early. Goodnight."

As she trudged off to her bedroom, she thought she heard her father say, "Goodnight," as well.