( he leans into her space, bumps her shoulder gently with his own. he wants to let things between them settle into an easy, companionable silence. maybe neither of them are okay, but they will be. korra asks after him, and he doesn't have an answer for her immediately.

he's never really talked to her about his past. asami knows, but after he told her it just... didn't become important to tell anyone else. it was like he needed to get it out, and then once he did that was it.

mako fans his hands out across the dirt of the arena, makes a fist. focuses his energy. a chunk of rock rises out of the ground. it doesn't feel natural to him the way fire does, but it's not... difficult the way he thinks it would be with water or air. earth is the element he's most familiar with, after his own. )

You know, when I was a kid I would've actually preferred earthbending.

( he says it casually enough, not really wanting to get into the details of why. he's done his grieving, he's dwelt on the loss, he's surrendered hours to the rage and hate and shame. healing came slow, and what was broken in him knitted together crooked and wrong, but. he survived it. just like he's survived everything else. )

Fire kinda had to... grow on me.

( she's worried he won't feel. like a complete person without his bending any more than she'll feel like one without hers. this is how he reassures her. he's not terribly good at it, but he does give her a little smile. )

I can get used to it. Waterbending might've been pretty impossible, though. Me, a watetrbender. Can you imagine that? I'd be terrible at it!

( a loud, theatrical groan. )