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Republic City glittered along the horizon, the sun just barely rising, bathing the skyline in a brilliant swath of orange and gold. The wind was cool, though it was nearly warm compared to the South Pole, the deck of the boat rumbling slowly as they approached the port. Korra had dreamed of Republic City for years, hoping to make her hometown proud, golden medals glittering behind her eyelids.
Korra had wanted nothing more than to make the national wheelchair rugby team in Republic City since she’d first realized it was a thing. Murderball . It was perfect, everything that she’d loved before the accident embodied in a sport. Her eighteenth birthday couldn’t come quickly enough, she had barely even cared about all the other perks that came with being 18. For Korra, 18 meant she could finally prove what she’d been saying for years. To prove everyone wrong.
She’d made the team, which hadn’t been nearly as nerve-wracking as she’d thought. The pool for wheelchair rugby players was smaller compared to their basketball counterparts, and very few had spent their entire teenage years practicing to make the team. She didn’t think there was any other girl her age on the team, but spirits, she was ready.
She was finally in Republic City.
***
“Korra, glad you’re here!” Kya welcomed from the gym entrance. Kya was a familiar face, the daughter of Katara, the woman who’d saved Korra’s life. Kya had saved her the second time, was the one who’d introduced her to rugby in the first place, and was also the only other Water Tribe person on the team.
“Lin and the team are inside, they’re super excited to have you,” Kya was saying, wheeling forward and giving her a hefty pat on the back.
“Coach Lin?”
Kya waved her hand, a wicked grin on her face. “Lin’s a real softy, trust me. Coach is barely a title we use.”
Somehow, Korra doubted that. Coach Lin was no-nonsense and stern, and was as determined as Korra was to get a gold medal in the Paralympics. Of the few interactions she’d seen between Coach Lin and Kya, she had a sneaking feeling they were dating, even if neither of them had admitted it.
The facility was larger than any of the ones back in the South Pole, the glittering logo of Sato Industries next to the Republic City Paralympic logo. She’d already been impressed when the automatic doors not only worked, but worked with a simple wave of her hand, the ramps to the entrance the easiest of Korra’s life. This place was stunning, and the gym it seemed was huge, way outsized for wheelchair rugby and their fan base.
The team was milling around on the court, laughing with each other, all in similar jerseys, that of the national team, her team. Oh spirits it was real. The faces were familiar, Korra had spent weeks memorizing the roster and had watched every single game she could catch. Tryouts had been a haze, muscle memory taking over when faced with her biggest dream, but now that it was reality, it was setting in. Mako and Bolin, a powerhouse team of brothers were to her left. Tenzin was the captain, the oldest on the team, and had been playing since Coach Lin was a on the court herself.
Yet, in the back, there was an unfamiliar face, and Korra was startled to see someone of her own age. She hadn’t realized there would be another new member. And spirits she was gorgeous, black hair tied into a ponytail, green eyes, and arms buff in the way manual chairs make you; it nearly sent her into orbit.
She was staring and had to practically kick herself back in to understand what Coach Lin was saying, catching nothing truly but jumbled words that she hoped was an introduction.
“-Asami Sato,” the woman said, extending a hand. Korra took it, still awestruck, not even sure when she got so close to her. She’d always known she was bi, but holy shit, she was bi .
“Korra Waters,” she breathed out, flushing red when she realized how embarrassing she was being.
Coach Lin clapped her hands together, “All right, get yourselves set up. We start in ten.”
They wheeled to the sidelines, Asami coming up to her side. Korra needed to get a handle on her heart before she fucked up her entire first practice lusting after a pretty teammate.
“So what’s your thing?” Asami asked bluntly, grinning wickedly. Korra blinked, not quite processing that she was speaking to her in the first place.
“Yeah Waters, what’s your thing? CP? We have t-shirts and everything,” Mako said as Bolin slid gloves onto his hands.
Asami rolled her eyes, “Ignore them, they just want another person to join their club.” She leaned down, rolling up her pant legs, revealing two prosthetic limbs, sliding them off in quick succession.
“CP as in…cerebral palsy?” Korra asked, trying not to watch Asami’s every move, lest she think she is staring. Well, she was, but not because of her legs, Asami was just unfairly pretty.
“Uh yeah?” Asami blinked at her, pulling on gloves that went up over her elbows.
“Right,” Korra shook her head, “Not CP, sorry Mako.” A loud groan went up from behind her. “Paraplegic. Complete paralysis at the L1 vertebrate.”
Asami grinned, “Ooh fancy.” She waved her hand towards her stumps, “Obviously, I have no legs.”
“Did you…lose them?”
“Don’t you think that’s a little personal Waters?” Asami asked, face blank, one perfect eyebrow raised.
Korra flushed a brilliant red, backpedaling in embarrassment. “Oh I-”
Asami barked out a laugh, “You’re too easy!” She cried, wheeling closer as if she was studying Korra. “We’re a team, we all know this shit about each other.”
“It’s not like, weird?”
“Why would it be?”
Well, that was a damn good question.
“It’s not like when abled people ask, they’re just being voyeurs into disability to feel better about themselves. Here,” she waved around the court, “We’re all one community, one team. There’s kinship in disability even beyond the flag we share on the court.”
She turned, grabbing a water bottle, and taking a quick sip. “And to answer your question, never had legs to begin with.” With that she sped off, a wink leaving Korra flushed from the head down.
Korra was fucked .
**
Korra groaned, arms aching as she rolled into the locker room. Practice had been brutal, and she lamented about the strength she’d used to have before everything. She’d been getting better, going to therapy and talking about the negative thoughts that so often followed her, but it was a hard balance. No one seemed to understand the frustrations that came with being disabled without thinking she hated disability. Yet, it felt wrong to express such frustrations that never seemed to have a place in a world that saw any little feature of living with a disability as a revelation.
Inspiration porn. Yuck.
She yanked at her gloves again, unwrapping her hands, red and raw from practice. Her standard chair was off to the side, right where she left it. Arms trembling with exhaustion, she rolled up next to it, unstrapping her chest strap to transfer.
“You good?” Asami was standing before her, the glinting shine of her prosthetics whirring in front of her. She had the fancy ones that must have cost a fortune, as made for aesthetics as they were for movement.
“Fine,” Korra bit out, sizing up the transfer and the state of her arms. In one motion she slid from her practice chair into her standard one, managing to not make a fool of herself as her shaking arms nearly gave out, one foot dragging across the floor.
Asami just gave her a nod, turning to her locker to rifle through it. It was silent in the locker room except for Korra’s heavy breathing, which she was struggling to mask. Her core was burning, muscles she’d been forced to build up after her accident whimpering from their workout today.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Asami asked, glancing back from her locker. She was so tall like this.
“I said I was fine,” Korra near hissed, turning away from the look of pity she knew would be across Asami’s face.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Asami said matter-of-factly, “You just,” she waved her hand over the whole of Korra’s figure, “look like you’ve seen better days.”
Korra risked glancing up to meet her eyes, surprised to see nothing but genuine concern on her face, like she would if any of her teammates were grunting as she’d been. It was… strangely normalizing in a way.
It was silent for a moment, before Korra sighed, turning to face Asami fully. “Some days I lament not having the mobility I used too. Like today.”
Asami blinked, slowly sliding down to sit on the bench, hand using the lockers as support. “What was that like?” she asked, leaning forward, brows furrowed. “I’ve always wondered, but that’s not the kind of thing people want to speak about in casual conversation.”
“I-” she shook her head, “Right, you wouldn’t know.” Asami cracked her a grin, waving down at her legs. Something lifted off her shoulders at that, this was something between friends. “Well, obviously it was easier. I never had to think about access to anywhere before. I could just, get up and go anywhere.” She let out a chuckle, “You don’t see how inaccessible the world is until you suddenly need that accessibility.”
“Was it weird? To suddenly have such a change?” Asami asked, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she seemingly could stop them. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you get asked that a lot.”
Korra chuckled, “Somehow, it’s not as infuriating coming from you.” She leaned back in her chair, thinking. “I think the hardest part was the acceptance. The change, going from one way of living to another. But it’s hard to describe that to non-disabled people. They always think I’m saying I hate disability, but that’s not it.”
“I get that,” Asami said, “Not the change part, but the describing it. You can be frustrated with the ways in which your disability is disabling and the systems that exacerbate that inaccessibility, without actually hating yourself or being miserable all the time.”
She stared, the response time lapsing between them long enough Asami started to fidget, glancing down at her lap. She opened her mouth to say something, obviously embarrassed, but Korra stopped her before she could say anything.
“No one has ever said it like that,” she said, Asami’s eyes fluttering up to meet her own. “I don’t hate myself, not anymore at least. But the change, that’s been the hardest part, to express frustration but also fulfillment in life.”
“Mourning what was lost, and accepting what is,” Asami murmured, a soft smile on her lips. Korra wanted to kiss her.
“How are you so good at this!” Korra exclaimed, “I’ve had like four different therapists and you just said all the things.” She waved her arms for emphasis, a grin cracking across Asami’s face. “But for real ‘Sami, thank you. No one’s ever said it like that before.”
Asami blushed a pretty red color that Korra wanted to see more of. “Anytime Korra,” she said sweetly, grabbing her bag and sweeping out of the room with a wave.
***
They were lounging in Asami’s ridiculously soft bed, a hairbreadth of space between them, silence stretching comfortably like the shining sunrays that dappled across the bedsheets. Korra loved Asami’s home, she had the best snacks, and shit like a movie theater because she was filthy rich. But more so than that, Asami’s house was a breath of fresh air. Even years after the accident, Korra was still realizing just how inaccessible the world was. Literally yesterday she’d been attempting to get coffee that said on Google it had an accessible entrance, yet by the time she’d rolled what felt like a mile, she realized it had been a lie, steps mocking her at the entrance.
But Asami’s house wasn’t like that, it was built with disability in mind. Every bathroom had rails and so much space for her chair Korra felt like she was living in luxury. She could actually reach the microwave to make popcorn. There wasn’t a ledge in sight, every doorway wide enough to get through without smacking her fingers. And even Asami’s bed was at a perfect height to get into.
It was freeing.
Asami had quickly become everything to Korra. They were fast friends, the only other girl her age on the team, but it was more than that. Asami was fearless in the way Korra wanted to be. She didn’t give a shit about what people thought of her, and had provided the crucial link to the disabled community Korra had spent so many years cutting herself off from, for fear of what it would mean.
Yet somehow Asami had broken down through that wall of internalized hatred that had nearly consumed her those first couple weeks in the hospital. Disability was as natural to Asami as breathing, and slowly, Korra began to understand it herself. There was no tiptoeing with Asami or the team, it was real, raw, the highs and lows. It was truth in the way that Korra had craved, there was no fear of hiding reality here from her. Finally, Korra had someone to talk to, a family that understood all the big and little things.
She loved the nights with Asami, talking about anything and everything. She’d learned Asami’s secret love for a sweet treat after dinner, sneaking bits of chocolate from the pantry that was always well stocked. She knew that Asami was an only child, and had lost her mother in a freak accident when she was younger. She’d learned that Asami wanted to become an engineer like her father, and was brilliant, a true genius though she always flushed when Korra called her one. She’d made her own prosthesis, well, had been a huge part in their design, and was determined to make accessibility tools more affordable to the general public when she eventually took over Sato Industries from her father. After all, mobility devices were a means of transportation just as cars were, Asami always said.
Korra never wanted these nights to end.
Her heart was a traitorous one though, longing for the delicate touch Asami seemed to give with ease, a far cry from her strength on the court. One of the things Korra didn’t realize she’d missed since becoming disabled was the way in which people touched her. Friends from before were always so…gentle. As if she would break with a too-hard hug. Strangers seemed to think she was a pet, patting her shoulder or head with poison-filled sweetness, lamenting on her “strength” and how it was “such a shame” this was her life now. Others viewed her chair as nothing more than a roadblock in their way, grabbing the handles and moving her despite her protests, invisible in their eyes as a person.
Asami, and by extension her entire team, were nothing like that, family woven together. No one seemed to think she’d break by hugging her, pats on the back that left her wheezing, slamming chairs into each other on the court. Everyone just, understood, that her chair was an extension of her body, no violating touches, just casual, normal acceptance.
Asami’s fingers ran through her hair, tangled on the bed like this, speaking about her newest invention. Korra could lay here forever, this touch soft and sweet, sending shivers down her spine. She could die happy, listening to Asami speak about things she barely understood, but listened all the same because it was Asami . Asami who meant everything to her, that she wanted to feel at every moment, who would spend all the rest of her days wrapped up in this silent devotion.
“You okay?” Asami asked softly, voice twisting away from the excited retelling of her engineering work.
Korra sighed, snuggling up closer toward Asami, wanting to be swallowed by her touch whole. “Peachy love.”
Asami tensed underneath her, hand pausing where she was scratching Korra’s head. For a second, Korra bemoaned the loss of touch, before realization shot through her like a bullet.
As quickly as she could, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, out of the warmth from Asami that sent a cold shock down to her hips. Her heart was racing, thudding in her chest like she’d just done sprints on the court.
“I-” Korra gasped unable to look towards her best friend. Asami scooted away just slightly, eyes burning into the side of Korra’s head, and Korra hated that she’d made Asami move away with her affection.
“Did you mean it?” Asami asked slowly, one hand coming to grab at Korra’s, desperation clinging to her, squeezing Korra’s fingers with a near-painful tightness. “Did you mean to call me love?”
She let out a shuddering breath, squeezing her eyes shut, nodding once, then twice. Asami’s fingers came up to her chin, brushing across her cheek, and Korra risked opening her eyes, Asami’s green ones staring back at her, wide and nervous, flushed with hope.
“You really meant it?” Asami breathed out, and Korra couldn’t stop the way her eyes flickered to her lips, red and oh, so soft.
“I always mean it,” she said, testing the waters, leveraging herself less than gracefully up against the headboard so she could see Asami more fully, hands finding her hips. “I think I’ve been in love with you the moment I first saw you.”
Asami blinked once, twice, before suddenly she was leaning in, slow and delicate, and pressing the sweetest kiss to Korra’s lips before she could barely process what was happening. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Korra realized she tasted like the cherry chapstick she always wore.
It was over far too quickly, Asami pulling back, eyes studying her face, hands cupping Korra’s head between them. One long second passed between them, soft breaths taking up the silence, skin flushed.
”I think I’ve been in love with you since that day too,” Asami said softly, one hand coming up to brush hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear.
Oh.
Oh.
This was more than Korra could have ever dreamed, her bisexual heart thudding with excitement and an understanding that the girl of her dreams was in love with her . The nervousness of their first kiss seemed to be cast aside as Korra tugged at Asami’s waist, pulling her into each other against the headboard, giggles and laughter tumbling between their lips as she pressed more kisses against Asami’s face. Spirits, this was the best day of her life.
***
This was the most stressful day of Korra’s life.
The atmosphere was buzzing, the court a throw of bodies and speed, chairs clashing and toppling. She could hardly believe she was even here, at the Paralympics, no less in the gold medal match. Asami was breathing hard next to her, rewrapping her hands made nearly raw from the game. Republic City had never won a gold medal, and with time ticking away, it was becoming closer and closer to a reality.
She couldn’t let herself believe it, not until time was fully expired.
“Waters! Sato! You’re on!” Coach Lin cried over the roar of the crowd, and spurred by action, the two of them wheeled onto the court with ease. This was their moment, a pair on the court even before they started dating.
They were unstoppable now.
The crowd seemed to melt away, a constant thrum in the back of her mind. Her muscles ached, hands raw, breath heaving, but she couldn’t stop now. There were minutes left in a nearly tied game.
The ball bounced free, and time seemed to slow, tunnel vision narrowing onto the ball. With a burst of speed, kept only upright by the band around her chest, Korra shot forward, scooping the ball up as she smacked into a Fire Nation player. She pushed to her right, the free space near the edge opening her up, head on a swivel looking for her teammates.
“Korra!” Asami’s voice echoed, and she didn’t even need to look. With full trust in her girlfriend, she launched the ball over her shoulder, only seeing the black whip of Asami’s hair over the scrum as she peeled away into the end zone, a cheer erupting from the crowd.
“Nice one Waters!” Mako cried out as he rolled past, and she gave him a quick nod, no time for pleasantries. There was a game to win.
She smashed into another player, the ball just out of her reach. They had to stop this run here, or else risk them tying it up. There were seconds left, when she saw Mako’s hand smack the pass down, launching the ball toward Asami, who was already streaking down the court.
They’d done this a thousand times, and Korra pushed off, sending herself flying down the court on her wheels, free just as Asami hit a block set by the Fire Nation. She didn’t even have to call for it, the ball came sailing her way and she snagged it, sliding into the end zone right as the buzzer went off and the crowd launched into a deafening roar.
She could hardly believe it, gasping for breath as her teammates came swarming out around them, yelling, crying, cheering. She was suddenly crying against her own will, grabbing Bolin by the shoulders and yelling about the fact that they had won.
Suddenly Asami was there, pushed through the thrum of people, reaching for her. She was saying something, but Korra couldn’t hear her, unstrapping her chest strap to lean forward, and grab Asami’s jersey in her hands and press a bruising kiss to her lips.
Somewhere distantly Korra was aware of cameras flashing, of the roar from her teammates around them, but found she couldn’t care. Asami was everything in front of her, her girlfriend, the love of her life.
Asami pulled back, tears streaming down her face. “We’re gold medalists!” She cried, and Korra could do nothing but nod, clinging to Asami, holding herself up. Gently, Asami helped her back up, exhaustion killing her core, and Korra finally came back to herself, realizing the roar of the room, her teammates, of the game. It was unreal.
“Waters! Sato! Get over here!” Coach Lin cried, sending the two of them into something beyond gaping and celebrating the fact they were gold medalists. Lin was standing with two reporters, cane glittering in the camera lights as she gestured to the two of them. “My dynamic duo, Korra Waters and Asami Sato.”
”Korra, Asami, a pleasure to meet you both!” The reporter said, the camera turned on them. “How does it feel to lead the team into their first gold?”
Asami let out a laugh, shaking her head slightly, “It feels amazing, though I’ll have to disagree with leading the team. It was a group effort.”
A splutter of protest came from behind them, the team having crowded around them, a burst of warmth in her chest. Korra rolled her eyes good-naturedly, leaning into the microphone, “Ignore them, it was absolutely a group effort.”
The reporter nodded quickly, smiling wide. “Korra, you’re new to the team this year. What’s that experience been like?”
“The best experience of my life!” She cried, probably far too loud. “These guys have changed my life for the better, I couldn’t imagine doing life without them.”
“And the nature of your relationship with Asami?”
Korra rolled her eyes, “If you call us gal pals I’ll lose it. We’re dating, she’s my girlfriend, love of my life. Oh, and we’re bi as hell.”
”You are such a sap,” Asami added, grasping her hand. “But ditto darling.” She glanced at the reporter, “And to be clear, we’re both very much bisexual. And dating.”
“Heard,” The reporter said with a smile, “No gal pals around here.” She turned to Korra again, something passing across her face. “Korra, did you ever think you’d be able to get to experience winning like this again?”
She furrowed her brows, “You mean a gold medal? Never in a million years did I think I’d get a gold. This is a dream come true.”
The reporter nodded almost absentmindedly, “I’m sure. I meant more of this joy after winning, especially because of your accident.”
Korra blinked, pulling back slightly before narrowing her eyes. “Are you trying to imply that I wouldn’t be happy again after I became disabled?”
The reporter spluttered, eyes widening in shock. “Well, I mean how could-” Korra raised her hand, cutting her off.
“I’m only going to say this once because I refuse to let this damper this moment. You all expect disabled people to be miserable because of their disability, all to make yourself feel better than us. There’s so much more to disability than the misery you want to inflict. Disability is part of me, but it is not all of me.”
She waved her hand out towards her team, standing at her back, the people who had shown her so much, given her a community. “These guys are my community, a part of myself who understand every inch of my experience, different yes, but not dissimilar. They’ve taught me to love myself when the abled-bodied world assumed my life must be miserable.”
Korra glanced at the reporter, who was seemingly frozen in place. “When you negate the world of disability as nothing but misery, you completely ignore a different way of living, of the richness that comes from our lives. And that’s just sad.” She gave a grin, showing all of her teeth. “Anyway, I’m going to celebrate with my team.”
With that she turned away, rejoining her team, clapping each other on the back, cheering in celebration. She caught Asami’s eyes over the crowd, and sent her a wink, hoping to convey everything she ever could in just one look.
She was on top of the world.
Somehow she got to the gold medal ceremony, a haze of celebration thrumming through her, though she could barely process it. Everything felt unreal, achieving a dream that had been her motivator in her darkest days. She felt like floating away, grounded only by Asami’s hand in hers, gripping it tightly as the flags rose up, Republic City’s national anthem echoing through the gymnasium.
Asami glittered under the lights, the golden medal a gleaming beacon around her neck, smiling so wide her cheeks had to hurt. She was gorgeous, hair still askew, loose strands sticking to her neck from sweat. As the anthem came to an end and the cheer of the crowd started up again, Korra raised their joined hands, pressing a soft kiss to Asami’s fingers.
Her girlfriend turned that brilliant smile her way, and Korra was weak, eyes catching each other, blue on green. Thank you she murmured against Asami’s skin, her girlfriend’s eyes widening, filling with tears.
“Thank you love,” she whispered out loud this time, ignorant of the eyes of the crowd, or even those of their team. “I wouldn’t change anything about my life, because it gave me you.”