The haircut is technically Asami's idea. Though, the look on Asami's face when all is said and done clearly shows that Korra took it further than she meant.
But she was the one that suggested going to the salon.
"Just come with me," she begged. "We'll get our hair done and be the two prettiest girls in Republic City, I promise."
Somewhere inside Korra knew there was a girl who cared about feeling pretty once. A girl who had felt pretty. Because she loved the color blue and she loved her body and she loved the way Mako had pretended not to be looking at her.
Well, two of those things were still true, even if Korra felt out of place in the light blue she usually wore.
Looking in the hairdresser's mirror, Korra can't find that girl. The girl in the mirror is tired. She is in a wheelchair because just standing wears her out so quickly. The girl in the mirror isn't look strong. She does what she is told. Goes where she is taken. Pushes on because others tell her she needs to.
This girl doesn't look like the Avatar.
As the hairdresser smiles at her and asks, "What did you want to do today, honey?" Korra can't push back the fear. This girl has no control over her life.
She opens her mouth to ask for a trim. That's what Asami said to ask for. Her hair is messy right now. Blown about from the top down trip into the city in Asami's car. Korra hasn't done her own hair in so long. Her arms start to shake with just effort of pulling her hair up. Threading through the tube that would hold it back seems an impossible task.
Resolve grips Korra. This is it. This is the one thing she knows she can control. The one thing she will be able to do herself. She can't control her life. She can't control her body-not right not at least. She can't control who comes after her, but she can control this.
"Chop it all off," she says.
The woman's eyes go wide. "All of it, Avatar Korra?"
Korra looks at herself, trying to picture herself with hair as short as Mako or Bolin's.
No, she doesn't like that.
"Not all of it," Korra says. "I just want it short."
The hairdresser nods, running her fingers through Korra's thick, dark hair a few times, then she twists and shapes it.
"Here?" she asks, adjusting so that it looks about shoulder length.
"Shorter," Korra says.
The woman lifts the hair a few more times, asking the same question each time. At chin length, Korra stops her.
It's perfect.
"That's it," Korra says.
"Alright," the hairdresser says. "I'm going to take it a few inches at a time, just in case you change your mind."
True to her word, she does a few rough trims, asking Korra at each length if she is sure. Korra doesn't change her mind.
Asami comes over as the woman evens out the final cut.
Korra watches her walk over, the smile dropping as she sees the drastic change in the length of Korra's hair. Her mouth drops open. Korra pretends not to see her as Asami gathers herself together and approaches.
"Well, that certainly is a change," she says, trying to meet Korra's eyes through the mirror. "Do you like it?"
Korra examines her new reflection. Maybe she's crazy, but this girl looks like she's gone through something traumatic and emerged the victor. This looks like the kind of girl that is in control of her own life. This girl looks strong and tough and everything that Korra wants to feel again—even in a wheelchair.
"Yes."
Beside her, she hears the hairdresser let out a soft breath.
And that's that. Korra's hair is short. And while, she doesn't feel like a new person, she does feel like someone who gets to make her own choices. Tomorrow, she knows she may—most likely will—feel differently, but right now, this is not something that can be taken from her.
They are both surprised to find the boys waiting for them at the ferry.
She shouldn't have been.
Mako may be devoted to his job, but that hasn't made him particularly eager to find a new apartment. He claims to like the contrast from the City's hustle. Korra nurses the sneaking suspicion that she is the reason Mako has put off searching for a new apartment.
And Bolin, of course, is more than happy to stay on the island where his sort of girlfriend lives.
At the moment, he's watching for the ferry, so he doesn't turn around as Asami pulls up. Why would he? People come and go at the ferry all the time.
Mako not rushing over to help pull out Korra's wheelchair and help her out of the car tells her more about his shock than any words ever could. And she doesn't care.
"Give me a minute," Asami says, parking the car and heading for the trunk, where the wheelchair is stored.
Mako blinks and then he's there. Still pretending not to look at her the way he's looked at her for so long.
"Help me out," Korra ,
"Just give me a sec to help Asami," he says, going for the back of the car.
"No." She tries not to seem surprised at the firmness in her own voice. She is the Avatar after all. Mako turns back to her with wide eyes. Korra pulls on the door handle, thankful that it swings open with little effort from her. "The bench will be fine for now." She looks at the big clock over the ticket office. "The ferry won't be here for a while anyways."
Mako doesn't argue. He rarely argues with her nowadays. It's a relief, but she also misses it. In so many ways, he tries to treat her like he's always treated her. Or at least, like he's treated her since the break-up. Korra can't decide whether the lack of arguing is a good thing or a bad thing. She is grateful for the lack of friction, but she doesn't want him blandly agreeing with everything she says.
That, she realizes, would be much worse than him yelling.
He holds the door for her, waiting patiently as she maneuvers her legs out of the car. When she has both feet firmly on the ground, he holds out his hands. She grasps them and lets him help her up. She delivers a smile, only to find him giving her the same reassuring expression.
Korra nearly laughs, but that would upset her balance, so she doesn't. They don't get many steps before she needs to lean on him heavily. The arm around her waist tightens and she knows he's ready if she stumbles.
She doesn't stumble, though her plop onto the bench lacks all semblance of grace.
Every step is a victory. It's what the therapist always tells her.
For the first time, Korra believes it.
"Korra!" Bolin exclaims. He'd watched open-mouthed during Korra's interminable progress from the car to the bench. "Y-Your hair...you cut your hair...what-"
"A great decision. It's perfect," Mako says, coming beside his younger brother and grabbing the back of his neck like he's an over grown polar bear dog puppy. She can tell he means it. "Let's go get tickets for Asami and Korra." He drags a still blustering Bolin over to the ticket office.
Korra kind of loves him for that.
Okay, I know that the clip that just aired a few days ago technically makes this whole thing AU, but I wrote it like the day before the clip came out and I couldn't just let it sit on my computer.
Enjoy.
