[ This is oddly frustrating. Mako likes deciding to do something and then just doing it, not struggling the find the words for what Wu is asking for.

It's not that he feels nothing about it. He feels awful about it. He keeps waking up and being surprised that he did, keeps expecting the other shoe to drop, or for some mistake to be made. Runs through it over and over in his own head, trying to pinpoint what he did wrong, what he can do better to make sure it doesn't happen again. It's hard to run through the mistakes that got you killed.

But he doesn't know how to say any of that, still doesn't fully know the point of saying any of that. Mako's looking at the ceiling instead of at Wu, because he can't handle the questions on his face.

He has to start somewhere. Maybe he'll just tell Wu some of that, and it will be fine, and he'll stop asking. ]

I just.

I can't stop thinking about it.

[ The words are halting, pulled off his tongue like shards of glass. He bites hard around them, scowling, his arms crossed and his shoulders hunched like he's warding something off. ] I messed up, Wu. And I died because of it. Right before he killed me his voice got so soft, and I was so messed-up about Korra that I didn't even notice the sparks. I could've gotten away.