She Can't See

chapter nine

At this rate, the grinding against her own teeth would soon cause a sore jaw. But it's not like it would make much of a difference. It's not like it would stand out compared to anything else. The supposed sore jaw would only be another addition to the lengthy list of afflictions that Korra composed for herself. 

Her eyes narrowed and zeroed in so hard on her dog Naga, who sat innocently and obliviously on the opposite end of the two long beams, tail wagging back and forth. She looked so far away when it was only a couple of feet. Why was the dog so far away? Why did she seem impossibly far away? That same winded feeling came back, causing Korra to shut her eyes tightly and release a wince that was louder than expected. Her arms wobbled.

She quickly snapped them open again when she heard a panicked shuffle from behind her. She didn't need the pity or the worry. It was exhausting and so far, it's done her no good. The last thing that she wanted was for Katara or her mother or father to reach out and grab her. Korra could stabilize herself. The facts were that she was weak - temporarily - but it didn't mean that she was broken. She hadn't completely crumbled, right? Pity and worry was only for the crumbled.

Naga's tail had stopped wagging when Korra looked at her again. Her floppy ears drooped down, and rather than her previous sitting position, she was now standing up right. It was almost as if she was ready to rush to Korra's aid. How utterly humiliating. 

Now this was another kind of pathetic. 

Korra huffed a breath as her hands clenched around the poles. She focused back on her feet; the left was far more ahead than the right, which still was covered with a cast. That angered her. Her teeth grinded together again. A sore jaw would go perfectly with cracked teeth, she figured. Maybe it would be a nice distraction, she figured. If her teeth cracked, everyone would be focused on that, and she would no longer have to be put in an embarrassing amount of spotlight, she figured. 

"Korra," Senna spoke calmly, yet nothing about her tone of voice was 'calm.' "You can come sit back down now. I think you've gotten far enough for today."

That was a lie.

She was lucky that her apartment was a great size, a perfect size. The living room was large and spacious. With some movement of a coffee table and a few chairs and potted plants, it was the perfect size to fit a nice set of beams right in the center. That, other than the wheelchair of course, was the strangest new shift in Korra's life. The beams were large and broad. It was impossible to not look at them when passing by the living room, and it was just as impossible to not think about them, either. 

It's been four months since that unforgettable Friday night.

By now, Korra knew how far she carried herself on the beams. She let herself struggle, shake, and most of the time, even collapse. This was a now old routine of hers - a session of these balance beams every four days. When Katara and her father arrived and had the piece of equipment set up and told her exactly how they would be helping, Korra had said that the schedule was ... unnecessary. Every four days? She was so messed up to the point where she had to reduce herself to proper 'movement' every four days? The idea was ludicrous and made no sense. She wasn't broken. She didn't need patience or time, she needed to be healed and get back on the court. Or the track, or the fake grass. 

"I can do a little more." She grumbled under her breath, then carefully scooted her hands up a bit further, only hoping that her right leg would follow suit. Another bead of sweat threatened to prick at one of her temples. "Just ... hold on. I got this."

And nothing.

"Your mother is right." Katara spoke up; her voice feeble, but carrying so much faith and wisdom. Still, it wasn't enough for Korra. Katara walked next to where Korra was on the beams, which wasn't very far up. Only one pair of blue eyes tried to make contact and failed. She sighed, then turned to Senna and Tonraq, who both stood with pinched brows near the archway of the living room. "Do you mind if I have a word with Korra? Privately?"