Chapter Text
Mako had never been very good at deciding what he wanted. Bolin had once joked to him that he wouldn’t be able to choose someone to go out with if his life depended on it. Mako, being his usual self, grumbled something along the line of “Well it’s a good thing that’s never going to happen.”
How wrong he had been.
It hadn’t started with a coughing fit in the middle of the night, or a dramatic keeling over. It had barely even been noticeable: Mako and Wu were sitting in Little Ba Sing Se, Mako telling Wu some story about Korra that he’d begged to hear as he slurped his smoothie. Wu was listening with his whole face, eyes sparkling in the sunlight, laughing along to the jokes that weren’t that good and at Mako’s various misfortunes in the pro bending arena. Mako said something stupid, likely something about how Korra laughed at him one time when he fell over. Wu threw his head back in a giggle, almost tipping out his chair, the sun reflecting on his gold jacket. “Oh Mako, that’s hilarious. That Korra seems like a great dame.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You should introduce us one day.”
Something tickled the back of Mako’s throat and his moderately pleasant mood was shattered. He coughed and something slithered up his throat and stuck to his tongue, wafer thin and tasteless. Wu was still giggling to himself and Mako took the opportunity to peel whatever it was off of his tongue. It was a cherry blossom petal, small, inconsequential. Mako must have accidentally swallowed it at some point whilst he and Wu were hanging around Little Ba Sing Se.
As an ex detective he really should have realised not only was it the wrong season for cherry blossom flowers, there were none in Little Ba Sing Se.
Things hadn’t gone really wrong until a few weeks later. Mako had been watching Wu bumble around, trying to talk to various officials. President Raiko had been announcing something and he and Mako had gone to announce Wu’s coronation in the same event as Asami had been unveiling the new rail system she’d implemented. Mako had been proud of her and would have been giddy to see his friend again if he ever got giddy - that was a Wu thing. Speaking of Wu, he had been thrust into the spotlight yet again and was exuding obnoxiousness. Not that he wasn’t obnoxious, arrogant and irritating when he and Mako were alone, but there was something softer and more delicate about him when he wasn’t having to act up as the heir to the throne. Once, he’d seen Mako gazing wistfully at a Future Industries logo and patted him on the back, saying “Cheer up buddy, I’m sure you’ll get to see Asami again soon. Maybe you can set us up?” So the execution was kind of misguided but the thought was there.
Thinking about it, Mako had spluttered up a cherry blossom petal at that too.
Mako snapped out of his daze, suddenly picking up on where Wu was. He was talking to Asami, hair slicked back, crisp gold and green coat pressed to perfection (Mako would know, he’d been roped into doing it himself). Asami did not look at all pleased, uttering something about sending Wu on a train far away.
“That's ... that's funny. I like funny dames. Maybe I should introduce myself. I'm Prince Wu, future king.”
Mako’s throat was suddenly dry at the horrible introduction and he battled the urge to cough. Asami answered and then Wu was back on his bullshit, hand on his hip, eyebrow raised. Mako began to head over. “...Can I show you a low-key night out with a superhuman soon-to-be king?”
“Prince Wu! President Raiko has some, uh-” Mako bent over and coughed and spluttered into his hand, something rising from the depths of his throat and escaping into his palm, whatever it was half wet and soggy, half delicate and dry. Mako enclosed his hand until he could deposit whatever it was in a tissue or the bin. Both Asami and Wu were looking at him with equally raised eyebrows and concern. “-some really important king stuff to talk to you about.”
Wu sighed and expressed his displeasure, swaggering over to Raiko with a wink and a pass of a silk handkerchief to Mako. “For your… phlegm. I don’t need it back.”
Mako blushed and crammed whatever was in his hand into the handkerchief. Asami was watching half in amusement, half in irritation. “He’s a real charmer, huh?” Mako suggested.
“He’s… something. How can you stand being his bodyguard?”
“Well I just remind myself that once he’s back on the throne I go back to being a detective.”
The tickle at the back of Mako’s throat was back.
“And that works?” Asami asked.
“I also go home, and smash my head into the wall for an hour, you know, just to get the stress out.” Asami laughed at that, her green eyes sparkling in the summer sun and suddenly Mako was bent over again, hacking something up into the hanky. As it was leaving his mouth he took a quick look into the fabric. There was a handful of small singular pink petals, soft and pastel coloured. Some of them had been flattened and wet coming out his mouth but others were dry and still had their shape, nestled on top of each other in a pile.
Mako’s mouth went dry. He closed his fist, crushing the petals, and looked up to Asami. Her head was tilted. She put a hand onto the shoulder of Mako’s starchy bodyguard uniform. “Mako, are you okay? You look scared.”
Mako was in the throws of flight or fight. His limbs locked up as dread started to weigh down his shoulders and feet, and he was suddenly hyper aware of Asami’s eyes being drawn to the handkerchief. “It’s lovely to see you Asami! I think Korra’s meant to be coming in soon. Haven't heard from Bolin. Lovely to see you! Bye!” Mako dragged his foot up and sprinted over to Wu, Beifong and Tenzin. Asami stood in the middle of the street, stunned. “Beifong. I need the afternoon off. I don’t… I don’t feel well.”
Beifong looked extremely displeased (or more so than usual) at first, but she took one look at Mako and shook her head. His face could only be described as the embodiment of sheer terror. “I suppose I can watch the Prince until we go to meet Korra this evening at the docks. You can meet us there and then supervise Wu for the rest of the evening. Don’t make a habit out of this, Mako.” And then quietly “look after yourself.”
Mako thought he might have heard himself say thank you and then he rushed off, briefly meeting Wu’s eye contact. The Prince mouthed ‘you okay?’, brow furrowed in concern. Mako grimaced and gave a halfhearted thumbs up before getting on the first taxi he could find to the library.
He’d heard about the condition before, in old wives tales and whispered hushes. It was rare yet infamous, and Mako’s symptoms suggested he had it. It’s not like there were any other rational(ish) explanations for coughing up plants in the middle of a city which had none of said plants but the scared part of Mako told him that he needed to research this, double check, make sure that this was happening to him. To be completely honest he already knew.
Hanahaki, it was called. The coughing up of flowers caused by unrequited love. They would grow in the victim’s lungs and chest and would be coughed up, petal by petal, until they died. Sometimes it would be slow and laborious, a descent into sickness until the victim started to cough up flowers with the correct number of petals, or it would be quick. A matter of weeks to a matter of years. It was either that or somehow discover who you were in love with and get them to fall in love with you too or get a surgery that removed any feelings you had for said person.
Mako was screwed either way.
He definitely had it. There was no donut, no equivocation. He’d checked out five books and they all said the same thing: there’s no similar disease. If you coughed up flowers you were cursed with Hanahaki and that was it.
The issue came from Mako’s indecisiveness. Women had fought over him before and Mako had always struggled to figure out who he really liked, who he loved, what he wanted. This indecisiveness had grown to threaten his life, as the problem that arose was that Mako had no idea who he was in love with.
The person he spent the most time with was Wu, his boss/friend/… whatever. The woman he spent the most time with was Beifong, but that was one hundred percent off the table. She was basically his mother, not that either of them would admit it out loud. The next two people that sprang to mind were Korra and Asami, their messy history as a love triangle maybe not as behind them as Mako had once believed. Which was strange, because Mako was sure that he didn’t feel romantically for either of them anymore, but Wu had been talking about or to them when Mako had had his attacks. Logic dictated that the common denominator was people hitting on his ex girlfriends, and thus they were the people he was supposedly in love with.
Supposedly.
---
Mako’s health had not improved from the day that he’d finally figured out he had Hanahaki, and neither had the political situation of the Earth Kingdom. As Mako began to cough out a greater number of petals Korra had gone missing and Kuvira had stolen the Earth Kingdom throne from Wu. This was both good and bad. Kuvira taking the throne meant that Mako was now fighting with Bolin about morality and leadership and Wu was especially cranky and depressed. On the other hand Mako now couldn’t go to Ba Sing Se with him, which again was both good and bad because whilst he wasn’t stuck in a mostly foreign land and a life of luxury with Wu he could not escape Asami and the potentially life threatening disease he now had.
Wu had begun to notice. Mako had expected the King to be a walking lump of sadness after his throne was taken by Kuvira. Instead he’d thrown himself into being as obnoxious as possible whenever they were out in public and extra clingy when they were alone. Wu had no more public meltdowns after the issue on the throne in Little Ba Sing Se but Mako would notice how when the King thought his bodyguard wasn’t looking tears would roll down his cheek and the sleeve of his coat would be wet with tears. Everytime this would happen Mako would splutter some cherry blossom petals into a handkerchief (he never left home without one now, and for strange sentimental reasons he’d kept the one Wu had given him despite it inadvertently being a death warrant). One afternoon Mako had coughed again and Wu stopped his crying and poked his head round the corner of the suite of the hotel. “You okay, tough guy? You haven’t been sounding so tough lately.”
“Yeah I’m fine.” He snapped a little too quickly, hiding the hanky behind his back.
Wu rolled his eyes. “I know that now is an… unstable period in history and I understand that I’m not the easiest person to be around, so I completely understand if you want to take some time off. I apologise profusely for how much work I’ve been recently. I… I spent my whole life being told by a horrible lady that I was going to be a terrible King but never actually got any training on how to be a good one, so I decided it was best if I just did what others said and leave it to them, but at least I’d be King and people would have to like me and then- well it didn’t happen. I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. What I mean to say is that, if you wanted some time off I’d completely understand.” Wu gave a sweet, understanding smile, his face devoid of any Kingly arrogance. He put a hand on Mako’s shoulder and it felt nicer than it should have done to have Wu show more than material concern for Mako. Mako’s throat began to burn.
A guard thundered on the door of the hotel room. Mako jerked his shoulder away and jumped up to the door, forcing his mouth shut and the cough down. He didn’t open his mouth to greet the guard however rude it seemed. “Sir, word for you from Chief Beifong. Avatar Korra has resurfaced in Zaofu and has fought Kuvira. Word has it she’s on her way to Republic City now.”
Mako nodded. He shut the door. Wu cheered. “Go Korra!”
Mako ran to the sink and spewed up a lump of cherry blossom petals. This time each petal was joined to another one.
The second Mako got off work that day he sprinted to Asami’s mansion. His family was there and he greeted them briefly, answering questions about his job and Bolin as quickly as possible before rushing to Asami’s workshop. “Asami!” He threw open the door. Asami was hunched over the desk, working on a series of blueprints. “Did you hear? Korra?”
“Yes!” She cheered, standing up and throwing her arms around Mako. “She’s due to get in in a few days but I think she’s going to be caught up with Tenzin and political issues for about a day. Do you want to organise a lunch or something, just the three of us?”
“Sure.” Mako smiled. “Kwong’s cuisine? I can actually try to reserve a table now I have kingly sway… even if that King has no power.”
Asami laughed. “Can we make sure Wu doesn’t come? As much as I’d like to see him flirt with Korra I- Mako?!” Mako had doubled over and was passionately coughing flowers into the handkerchief. Asami quickly leant forward and patted Mako on the back until he was done. “Mako, what is up with you? You’ve been coughing non stop recently.”
“I’m fine.” He stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket. “It’s nothing, just a cold.”
Asami’s face was disappointed. “It doesn’t look like a cold. You’d tell me if there was something seriously wrong, right?”
“Oh, yeah.” He grimaced, trying his hardest to avoid looking at her face. Instead his eyes glanced to his pocket, the slip not unnoticed by Asami. “So, uh, how’s work?”
“What’s in the handkerchief? Mako.” Said Asami, glaring. “And don’t give me some rubbish. If you lie to me I’ll know, and I’ll go downstairs and tell dear old Grandma Mako that you’re resigning from being Wu’s bodyguard. She’ll kill you.”
Mako resisted the urge to say ‘well I’m dying anyway’ but instead went with “Asami. You evil genius.”
“I get it from my father. Now what’s in the pocket?”
Mako sheepishly fished the handkerchief out of his pocket and unfurled it. Inside the little pairs of pink petals lay, luminous against the deep forest green of the handkerchief. Asami’s face morphed from surprise to shock to sadness. “Oh.” Mako hung his head. “How long?”
“About a month.”
“Who knows?”
“Me and you.”
Asami shook her head. “Who?”
“Honestly? I have no idea. I was thinking maybe Korra, or-”
“Or me?” Asami sighed. She looked morose. “Don’t take this the wrong way but how don’t you know?”
“I didn’t think I had any romantic feelings for either of you anymore and it doesn’t feel like anything’s changed, but suddenly Wu’s hitting on you two and I’m coughing up flower petals left right and centre. It’s been so long since I’ve really seen you two and let's be honest, I’ve never been the most in touch with my feelings.” He pulled out a chair and slumped down, avoiding Asami’s piercing green eyes. His throat stung a bit and he felt some petals leap into the back of his throat. He swallowed them down.
“If it is me, which I’m hoping it’s not- I feel like I should be honest with you. There’s no chance of me reciprocating feelings. I’m in love with someone else.”
“Oh.” Mako echoed Asami’s earlier reaction. “That’s… good for you. Really.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s probably not you.”
“I’m sorry.” Asami took Mako’s hands. “I’m going to do something, and hopefully it will clear your mind. Don’t freak out.”
“When have you ever known me to freak out?”
Asami looked unimpressed. Then, she grabbed his face, moved in, and kissed him. Mako kissed back almost out of habit but it felt like he was kissing a brick wall. Nothing stirred inside him, none of that fiery passion that had spurned him to make a slew of bad romantic choices back in those early years of being in Team Avatar. Asami pulled back, and if Mako had to make a guess on what her facial expression was it was guilt. “Sorry. I figured it might help you figure thighs out. Or confuse you. Sorry.”
“Honestly? It felt like kissing a cushion.”
“Oh thank spirits.” Asami panted. “So it’s not me, then?”
“It’s not you.”
Asami cheered and threw her arms around Mako before pulling back. “Wait, does that mean?” Her face fell. At the reveal that Asami was not the person Mako was supposedly in love with, he had been possessed by a sheen of light relief. Now Mako had been struck over the head with heavy dread. “Does that mean you’re in love with Korra?” Asami was glaring at the floor.
“I guess so.”