Mike had been left to rot in his cell for several hours now. He had no real sense of how long he'd been in there, and the guard, who had mentioned his name to be Duncan, was of no real help. "What time is it?" he asked weakly.

"Time for you to stop asking, you asked me ten minutes ago," Duncan the guard replied with an irritated sigh.

"Oh…sorry," he apologized.

"Did all that screaming you did earlier knock you out or something? You're being real quiet."

"…would you prefer if I was crying and yelling and pulling my hair out?" Mike said bluntly.

"No, that was annoying. But usually if prisoners are quiet, they're plotting something."

"I'm in no position to plot; I hardly understand why I'm in here in the first place." Mike focused on his hand cuffs that were cold to the touch. "At least I'm safe from the Avatar for a little while…she didn't know how to deal with me." Not many people did; he himself wasn't even on that hypothetical list.

"Aw, did the Avatar beat you up? I've seen her in the pro bending ring and she can really knock a guy out, if you catch my drift," Duncan recounted with a wink.

Mike was silent for a moment, as if listening to something that the guard couldn't hear. "Um, it was the opposite, I think…" he said with uncertainty. "So I'm told." The warbly noises in his head sometimes sounded more like actual voices from time to time. He knew who they belonged to, vaguely, as they were all very distinctive. At times there was one or multiple at the same time.

"Chief wants the special prisoner in her office pronto," an officer appeared abruptly in front of the cell, speaking to Duncan.

"Of course, sir," he replied with a salute and a nod.

"Why her office?" Mike had to ask.

"That's not your concern," the officer bit back. "Now stand up, you'll be escorted by the two of us."

Mike didn't like where this was going. He had every reason to think this wouldn't end well for him, but couldn't imagine where it'd lead.

"I'm not going to pretend forever that none of what has occurred in the past two days happened. That's what you appear to believe, however, and for the sake of this case it's best we leave it that way for now," Beifong spoke stoically as she sat at her desk and narrowed her eyes in Mike's direction. "What's more interesting is your semi-latent capabilities as a bender of multiple elements, and the fact that you are a teenager living alone in the city without an address on record despite your continued citizenship requiring it."

Mike's shoulders were tense and his hands twitched inside their cuffs. "My last real address was a prison cell; I didn't have anywhere to go once I got out until Dwayne and his family offered me a job," he said with a touch of anger in his voice. "And that was always going to be temporary."

His hadn't been a case that had reached her since it had been minor compared to other things going on at the time, and therefore Beifong hadn't really recognized him at all. "You have family outside the capital that we've made contact with; they're quote on quote 'willing to forgive you' if you promise not to-" She immediately felt the air in the room grow warmer. "Stir up more trouble." She sighed. She'd seen this too many times, a young person running from something and having to make hard decisions.

'Mike' was silently shaking at the mention of his family.

"You're trying to melt the cuffs. It won't work, those were made special for our firebender friends here in Republic City," Beifong said calmly.

"Always gotta be one step ahead, ey, Chief," 'Mike' grumbled.

"I don't get paid to do any less." She shuffled the papers on her desk. "If you don't decide to go with your family, the process gets more complicated. It makes the most sense, I'm giving you an opportunity to walk away from this without worry-"

He stood up, the cuffs around his feet hindering this effort for a moment. "Ya think they're ain't a reason we livin' on our own here in the first place?" Steam was escaping out of his nostrils. His pupils had narrowed, his features somehow sharpened. "You're not sendin' us back there."

Beifong was going to ignore his use of plurals for now. Different problem. "What would you have me do with you? Put you back in jail just so you'd escape again?" He couldn't be put in their normal prison.

"It's worked before!" he figured.

She had a thought, recalling an earlier conversation, and picked up a pen. "Before you burst into flames, I'd be remiss not to get your name for my records," she requested.

He hesitated. "It's Mike, obviously-"

"Don't play dumb with me, kid," Beifong interrupted. "Your name."

He stared at her, then huffed, a small flame curling out of his mouth before extinguishing. "Yizo, or Vito, I don't really care," he said half heartedly. Was it a good idea to tell her? Probably not, but she backed him into a corner.

"Hm. Reminds me of someone I knew from the Fire Nation…that checks out," Beifong noted, writing it quickly. "Short names appear to be in these days."

Vito raised an eyebrow at her.

"Are there any other names I should be aware of?"

He didn't respond. He had sat back down, looking off to the side in a glazed manner.

"Vito?" she asked.

"Huh? How do you know that name?" Mike asked fearfully, blinking rapidly and leaning forward in the chair. "I never said that."

She held up the paper with the name written on it. "Mako was right; either you're an incredible actor, or you've got a few roommates upstairs you're not telling us about."