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The lights of Republic City's skyline twinkle like stars, proudly announcing their presence. Spirits drift and fly out of the portal and dance across the vines that encapsulate the surrounding buildings. Mako chuckles as he watches them fly carelessly around the streets below him. They wander without a care in the world, exploring a realm outside of their own. Mako adjusts his sling, wincing as the pain in his arm shouts at him. It’s been several weeks since Kuvira’s attack and subsequent defeat, and his arm still hurts like new.
He sighs as he leans away from the window and turns around to face the inside of his apartment. All the lights are off, apart from a single lit candle sitting on the coffee table, bathing the room in a dull orange glow. He walks into the kitchen, grabbing a small glass and popping the top off a bottle. He pours the amber colored liquid into the glass, ignoring that he probably is pouring more than is necessary. When the liquid takes up a sufficient portion of the cup, he sighs and lifts it up to his lips, drinking half in a single go.
A chorus of coughs escape his lungs as his throat burns and a shiver sprints down his body. He leans onto the counter for support as his chest aches with each wheeze and guttural cough. After some time passes, he looks up and surveys his surroundings with tears in his eyes. His vision lands on a photo nailed above the fireplace mantle. The faces of his friends smile back at him. Korra, Asami, Opal, Bolin, all of them wide-eyed and happy. And then there was him, standing at the far end of the frame, arms crossed, a small half smile adorning his face.
Mako grabs his glass and walks closer to the photo. He analyzes each of their faces, smiling at their joy. His smile fades as his stomach drops when he looks at himself, surrounded by them all. He sees Korra and Asami’s arms linked, Bolin hugging Opal from behind. And there he was. Alone. Mako releases a shaky sigh as he finishes the rest of his drink, ignoring the burning pressure behind his eyes. He walks back to the kitchen to refill his glass.
His mind wanders back all those years, when Bolin and he were orphan pro-benders sharing a shitty small apartment together. And then Korra came along and everything changed, and then Asami joined the picture and things became more confusing. He felt things he never did before, a genuine connection with both of them, and he ruined it. He managed to ruin two relationships with the most important women in his life. It honestly surprised him he can still call them friends. He sure wouldn’t be friends with himself after it all. They were too good for him. It only makes sense they got together. They always seemed to have a more complex connection than Mako had with any of them. And now his two ex-girlfriends are dating and went on a vacation to the spirit world together.
A dull pain echoes through his chest, the burning behind his eyes growing more painful. He shakes his head and thinks of his brother. Bolin found something special with Opal. They seemed to have hit it off instantly. He remembers how Bolin would talk endlessly about her before they went to bed, constantly stumbling over his words and talking about how cute her laugh was. Mako was happy that things turned out well for them, with Kuvira and Bolin being caught up thinking he was doing the right thing. It was messy for a while. But now they have an apartment together. Mako chuckles at that.
They are all so busy now. They were busy before, but this time it’s different. Bolin and Opal have been busy with the rebuilding effort and Asami and Korra went on a journey to the spirit world. Leaving him with his detective work. It’s all fine, he understands that certain things must come first, and it’s difficult to make time when stuff is busy. Opal and Bolin have made an effort, inviting him over for dinner whenever they are free. The effort wasn’t lost on Mako, that isn’t the case. He just felt out of place during the entire ordeal. So out of place, in fact, that he has been dodging their latest attempts. It’s too dumb of an excuse to explain that he felt like he was intruding and that he shouldn’t have been there.
They would argue with him, say that he wasn’t intruding and that he deserved to be there. But they don’t get it. It would be too difficult to explain the constant gnawing sound that plays loudly in his head when he is alone. The sharp pain that stabs his chest whenever he sees them being happy together and the guilt that washes over him for even having that pain. They are happy. Why does it hurt him so much? He is happy that they have found love. What is wrong with him for feeling like an alien whenever he is with them? What is wrong with him? He can’t find the answer.
Mako slams his fist onto the counter and shakes his head as the tears finally break and flow down his eyes. He grits his teeth as he bites back a sob, the loud gnawing sound screams inside his head. It shouts at him, telling him he is wrong for feeling jealous that his friends are in love and he is alone. It scratches at his skull as it chides him for wishing he could have what everyone around him has, someone to hold and to love. Why should he deserve such a thing? He squandered all his chances years ago, breaking Asami and Korra’s hearts for his own stupid reasons. Why should he be deserving?
Mako grabs the bottle off the counter and walks to the living room, collapsing onto the couch. The pain in his arms throbs and he chuckles at it, his valiant war injury, a mark of a hero. A mark of his brave choice to sacrifice himself to stop Kuvira. He wanted to die a hero and be remembered as someone to look up to, not for his failures. But he didn’t die, he failed at that too. Bolin carried him out and saved his life, leaving him with a visual scar of his failure. He lets out a dry laugh as he takes a sip from the bottle, closing his eyes as the tears continue to fall.
It’s all just a little funny.