Chapter 4
Chapter IV
Caitlyn couldn't stop watching her.
It was absurd. Irrational. Inappropriate, even.
And yet there she was, staring at the woman walking a few steps ahead, her cane sliding with precision over the uneven Zaun asphalt. Not that Vi could notice, of course. The thought only made Caitlyn feel worse about herself, like she was stealing something that didn’t belong to her, like her gaze was an invisible but invasive burden.
It wasn’t just the way Vi carried herself—confident, determined, with a natural swagger that defied every obstacle in her path—it was the way everything about her seemed designed to attract attention, to grab it without even trying. Her dark pink, almost reddish hair fell in messy locks over one side of her front, framing a sharply angled face, scars barely visible against her pale skin. Her lips, curved in a tense line of distrust, were softer than they should be on someone with such a fierce attitude. Caitlyn felt like she could give her entire fortune to touch the other woman lips for a minute and see if they were as soft as they looked.
And her eyes. Gods, her eyes.
A vibrant blue, too intense, almost magnetic in contrast to the darkness surrounding them. Caitlyn knew they weren't focusing on anything, that they couldn't really see her from what she could understand so far. There were times when her gaze seemed to rest on Caitlyn with extreme precision though, but other times those same eyes wandered around aimlessly, as if trying to locate an exact point to hold on to. But that didn't take away their intensity one bit. Vi didn't need to see well for her gaze to have weight.
She was beautiful. Not in a delicate or refined way, like the Piltover women Caitlyn used to treat at her family gatherings or the ones she used to invite over to deal with the frustration and tension that would sometimes overwhelm her, then let them go without another thought.
No. Vi was a brutal beauty, unapologetic and unadorned. Like a storm trapped in a human body. Like she was the very embodiment of Caitlyn's most dangerous desires, ones she'd never known she had but now clearly manifested before her.
Her clothes, simple and functional, warm enough to withstand the cold, did little to hide the musculature that was noticeable with even the smallest movement. But what was most striking, what demanded to be seen, were the tattoos.
The number VI—Caitlyn couldn’t help but notice how ironic it was that it shared her name—was marked in ink on her cheek, a permanent statement, a promise, or a condemnation. Caitlyn didn’t know it, but it wasn’t the only one. On her neck she could see fragments of a story that was traced in black on her skin, aggressive lines that seemed as much a part of her as her own skin. The dark bluenette was sure she had to have more tattoos under her clothes, her logic screaming that it was the only plausible conclusion.
And Caitlyn… well. She had spent too much time staring at them, wanting to find out what else they were hiding.
Caitlyn looked away quickly, feeling the heat rise to her face. What the hell was she doing?
It was rude to stare at someone. Her mother would be outraged if she saw her acting that way with a woman she had just met. As if she were a schoolgirl. Especially when said woman couldn't notice.
And yet, the temptation remained.
It wasn't just mere attraction. It couldn't be. There was something about Vi that unsettled her, that captured her, that made her wonder what else lay behind that defiant attitude. That frown that seemed permanent.
Who was she? How much of the world had Vi seen before she lost her sight? How did she remember it? How much did it weigh on her? Had she ever had the chance to, or had it been like this all her life?
Caitlyn barely knew her, but she already wanted to understand her, to be part of her world.
How irrational can you be? She reproached herself internally.
A small snort from Vi brought her out of her thoughts.
“If you have something to say to me, go ahead, you don't have to burn a hole in my head with your gaze.”
Caitlyn felt her stomach turn.
Damn it.
For a moment, Caitlyn’s mind was blank. She had been caught.
It wasn't possible. It didn't make sense. Vi couldn't see her, but somehow, she knew.
“Pardon?” she replied, with a clumsy attempt at innocence.
Vi let out a low laugh, half mockery, half exhausted patience.
“I’m not an idiot, sweetheart. I can feel it,” she stated.
Caitlyn parted her lips, unsure of what to say. How was she supposed to justify herself without further embarrassing herself?
“I’m not…” she began, but Vi’s gaze, though unfocused, fixed on her with a precision that made her shudder. “Well, maybe a little,” she admitted at last, finally looking away.
Vi let out a sound like a dry laugh.
“At least you’re honest,” she said quietly.
Silence settled between them for a few seconds. Caitlyn didn't know whether to feel relieved or more embarrassed. On one hand, she was grateful that Jayce wasn't with them to see her act that way. She could easily imagine his cautious yet teasing look. Gathering an arsenal to use against her as soon as they were alone again. But on the other hand, perhaps his recklessness could have saved her from further embarrassing herself in front of the other woman. Caitlyn didn't know what was worse.
She had to be thankful that the man was suspicious enough to decide to stay in the car and wait for them to return. Even though Vi had confirmed that The Last Drop, the business where they had parked once Vi guided them out of the danger zone, was perfectly safe.
Finally, Caitlyn cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure.
“I was just… thinking,” she said, as if that would take away from her fixation of the last few minutes. “I’m surprised at how well you move around here.”
Vi tilted her head, as if evaluating the intention behind those words.
“Did you expect me to trip over every damn crack?” she said in a light, almost mocking tone, but there was a hint of annoyance in her voice. As if she were preparing to respond aggressively at the first opportunity.
“No, it’s not that,” Caitlyn was quick to reply. “It’s just… it can’t be easy”
Vi shrugged.
“It was hard, at first. Not anymore.”
Caitlyn nodded slowly, though the answer didn't entirely satisfy her. Vi said it with an almost defiant ease, but Caitlyn couldn't help but wonder how much effort, how many falls, how many blows it had taken to build that trust. She glanced at her face again, trying to count the scars she could see, and then at the hand holding the cane, full of small, pale marks that told their own stories.
How much had she had to learn in the hard way?
How much had she had to endure alone?
“Don’t worry,” Vi continued, with a sly smile. “If I ever get lost, I’ll let you guide me. It’ll be fun to see how you survive Zaun without getting your shoes dirty.”
Caitlyn narrowed her eyes, noticing the mocking tone.
“I'm not as fragile as you think.”
“We will see”
The way she said it wasn't defiant, but entertaining. As if she was really interested in testing it.
Before Caitlyn could respond, something else caught her attention, something that was even more impressive than the woman next to her, which was saying something. Everything around them had begun to transform.
The walls of the alley, once dominated by rust, dirt, and darkness, began to fill with vibrant colors. The gray shadows of Zaun were broken by each new mural, each explosive brushstroke that covered the surfaces with a life of its own. Art, pure and simple art. Street art, Caitlyn told herself as if trying to remind her of her position, the same one that her teachers, her family, her entire society had instilled in her. But not even her most absurd prejudices could hide what she was seeing.
It was street art, yes. But of an impressive, overwhelming quality.
Caitlyn couldn't help but stop and stare at them with a dumbfounded expression.
“By the gods,” she murmured, her eyes scanning the details of a painting in which a figure danced among floating gears, as if controlling time itself, moving to a tune Caitlyn couldn’t quite hear. Up ahead, a huge horned creature with glowing eyes seemed to emerge from the wall itself, surrounded by blue flames that almost seemed to move with the dim light of the alley and the shadows of the few people passing by.
There were so many paintings. All different, vibrant, full of intention, different testimonies of a culture that Caitlyn had never taken the time to understand. A different way of experiencing art, without pretensions or expecting something more in return, displayed on the walls for the world to see in their entirety, outside the restriction of cold and conceited walls of the galleries she grew up into.
“This is amazing,” she exclaimed.
Vi didn’t respond immediately. Caitlyn risked a quick glance at her and noticed how her expression had tightened. It wasn’t discomfort, exactly, but something in her had suddenly closed up. Her eyes seemed to be fixed on one of the murals, her brow furrowed.
“Are you okay?” Caitlyn asked.
Vi blinked, as if coming out of a trance, her gaze falling on her again. Caitlyn suppressed a shudder.
“I’m glad you like them,” Vi said, a small smile appearing on her face. “Powder spends too much time and effort reclaiming this area for the children of Zaun.”
Caitlyn blinked.
“Did your sister do this?”
“With help, yes.” Caitlyn sensed her hesitate, tightening and loosening her grip on her cane a couple of times. “She works with Ekko, her boyfriend. They’re both brilliant at what they do. The kids love them.”
Caitlyn turned back to the murals, this time with even more admiration.
“They are remarkable. Really,” she said.
“I'm sure they are”
Caitlyn turned to her, noticing her bittersweet expression with some guilt.
Vi had never been able to truly appreciate them.
The colors, the shapes, the details—everything that had taken Caitlyn's breath away was something Vi had never been able to see with her own eyes. She couldn't appreciate it the way Caitlyn did.
An uncomfortable weight settled on her chest.
“Has Powder told you about them?” she asked.
Vi was slow to respond.
“Yes. Sometimes. But I’m more familiar with her sculptures and inventions…”
But never in enough detail.
Caitlyn understood what she wasn't saying. Vi could imagine, she could hear the most detailed descriptions, perhaps feel certain things, but she could never see them as others could. She couldn't know exactly what her sister's works really conveyed.
For the first time since she'd met her, Caitlyn felt something other than fascination with Vi. She wanted to tell her what the world was really like. What the works conveyed, beyond a simple description.
The silence between them grew heavier, until Vi cleared her throat, shaking off the bitterness.
“Let’s continue. I don’t want to get caught out here at night,” she smiled once more, sincere and happy.
Caitlyn nodded, although something inside her told her that this wouldn't be the last time she thought about it.
Caitlyn soon realized that the murals marked the end of the alley and the entrance to a more open space in Zaun, filled with people walking back and forth, minding their own business. Street merchants, punctual shoppers, children running around. Smells and sounds filled Caitlyn's senses. Zaun was more vibrant and full of life than she would have first thought.
She pressed herself a little closer to Vi, suddenly feeling uneasy about getting lost amongst so many people. Vi seemed to move deftly through the crowd, following a path that seemed to be known only to her, though Caitlyn noticed that she was going slightly slower than before, taking care to carefully avoid people when they crossed her path.
Vi suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, forcing Caitlyn to crash into her back.
“We’re here,” the girl announced, throwing her a mocking smile over her shoulder.
The shop in front of them was as impressive to Caitlyn as everything else around them. A couple of weird statues made out of various mechanical parts and mechanisms adorned the entrance, the name above the window, Time Bomb Repairs, lit up part of the sidewalk in neon lights. Caitlyn noticed some equipment inside the window. A couple of motorcycles were parked off to the side, chained to a colorful pole with doodles and drawings of toothy monkeys on it.
“A spare parts store?” she asked skeptically.
“What did you expect, sweetheart? A fancy art studio?” Vi arched an eyebrow.
Caitlyn blushed again.
"No?"
Vi let out a laugh.
“This is Zaun. Art doesn’t pay the bills, we need something more tangible,” Vi explained. “Powder and Ekko are the best mechanics in all of Zaun, no matter what you have, they can fix it. And if you don’t have it, they’ll create it.”
Caitlyn didn't know how many more surprises she could handle in one day.
The interior of the store was chaotic, in a good way. A small counter was the only thing separating the entrance from the rest of the space, filled with various half-finished projects. Caitlyn wasn’t sure where to start looking.
A series of footsteps caught her attention soon enough.
Caitlyn turned in time to see a dark-skinned young man with neon-white hair emerge from the back door, carrying a heavy box with surprising ease. His eyes were intelligent, filled with a sly glint that betrayed a mind that was always several steps ahead of the present. He was dressed practically: comfortable, sturdy clothing, with a belt loaded with tools and small devices that jingled with every step. Despite his slightly surprised expression, his demeanor was relaxed, as if nothing in the world could truly catch him off guard.
Ekko.
Caitlyn recognized him immediately, not just from what Vi had said, but from the way he stood before them: with the confidence of someone who knew this place like the back of his hand, who had built it through his own efforts. There was something about him that exuded leadership, but without arrogance; a vibrant, youthful energy, full of potential, but also a maturity that seemed too great for his years.
“Vi? What are you doing here?”
His tone was not one of reproach, but of genuine surprise, with a hint of amusement.
Vi smiled familiarly, leaning against the counter with the comfort of someone who had done this a million times.
“What’s wrong? Can’t I come visit my favorite mechanic?”
Ekko snorted, setting the box down on the counter with a thud.
“Sure, just in time to ruin my productivity for the day. I bet it’s not just a social visit.”
Vi raised her hands in an innocent gesture.
“Hey, I just came to entertain. Although…” she paused, turning her face slightly in Caitlyn’s direction, as if remembering her presence at that moment. The mocking smile she gave her immediately made her feel like he was about to throw her to the wolves. “I guess I also brought a stray Pilty.”
Ekko blinked, seeming to barely noticing Caitlyn. His expression became more analytical, his eyes scanning her with open curiosity, none of the aggressive skepticism Caitlyn had sensed from Vi at first. He didn’t seem particularly impressed or hostile, just interested.
“And who is she?” he murmured, tilting his head slightly.
Caitlyn, who was still processing the chaotic yet fascinating interior of the workshop, cleared her throat before answering, trying to regain some composure.
“I’m Caitlyn,” she said simply, not knowing how much she should reveal.
Ekko nodded slowly, crossing his arms as he assessed her with a mix of curiosity and amusement.
“Ekko.” He nodded. “You’re a bit far from home, don’t you think?”
Before she could say anything else, a crash from the back of the workshop interrupted their conversation. The sound of tools falling to the floor, followed by a growl of frustration. Caitlyn didn't have to ask who it was, because Vi was already turning her head towards the source of the sound, a more genuine, soft, and affectionate smile playing on her lips.
“Pow, are you still alive back there or did one of your inventions finally eat you?” the girl called.
The silence that followed was brief. Then a sharp thud, hurried footsteps, and finally a familiar voice answered, tinged with disbelief and caution:
“Vi?”
From the back of the workshop emerged a small and slender figure, but one with a vibrant, involving presence. Powder’s hair was tangled in a mess of blue strands, some hastily pulled back, others falling over her face framed by smears of oil and paint. Her gaze, wide and bright, fixed on Vi with a mixture of surprise and genuine relief, though her posture remained alert, Caitlyn noted, as if her sister’s unexpected presence meant something was not quite right.
“What are you doing here?”
Vi smirked, shrugging with a nonchalant air.
“What? I can’t visit my favorite duo without it becoming an event?”
Powder snorted, but there was only affection in her eyes. She walked over quickly and, without hesitation, wrapped Vi in a firm hug, resting her head on her sister shoulder. It was an automatic gesture, as if it was a routine every time she saw Vi, as if she needed to make sure she was really there.
Caitlyn watched the scene discreetly, feeling like she was witnessing something too personal. There was a naturalness to the way Powder held Vi, as if she was more used to holding her than Vi was to being held.
There was also something implicit in their dynamic. Although Powder was physically the shorter one, she carried with her the same air of authority that seemed to disappear from Vi as soon as she was in the presence of the blue-haired girl. A slight change in Vi's attitude that did not go unnoticed by Caitlyn.
“You said you weren’t going out today,” Powder muttered.
Vi made a casual gesture with one hand. “Change of plans.”
Powder snorted against her shoulder. “Sure, because that never means trouble with you.”
Vi let out a light laugh. “Rude.”
Powder pulled away slightly, but didn't let go of her arm completely, frowning as if she expected her sister to give her a better answer. Then, her eyes finally drifted to Caitlyn.
The warmth disappeared.
Her expression didn't exactly turn hostile, but it did turn closed, wary. She looked Caitlyn up and down, her brow furrowed slightly and her lips pressed together. She certainly didn't recognize her, but didn't like her presence either.
Caitlyn felt the intensity of the inspection and instinctively straightened her posture. She wasn't used to receiving such stares, at least not from someone like Powder.
Vi felt the tension and sighed.
“Pow, this is Caitlyn.”
Powder didn't respond immediately. Her gaze continued to assess Caitlyn carefully, as if she were trying to find a clue in her face that would explain who she was and why she was there. Ekko leaned back from the counter, playing with a pair of silver pieces, assessing the scene, but with no clear intention of intervening.
“…Caitlyn.” Powder’s response was slow and measured. Her eyes narrowed slightly before she turned back to Vi. “And why is she with you?”
Caitlyn sensed a slight shift in the air. It wasn’t an accusation, but there was a clear disapproval implied. Vi ran a hand over the back of her neck, as if she had anticipated that question, but had no clear answer.
“Because I brought her.”
Powder raised an eyebrow.
“And why would you do that?”
Vi didn't respond immediately. It wasn't common for her to bring strangers, and they both knew it. Caitlyn, for her part, decided to intervene before the silence became awkward.
“Vi helped me,” she began to explain calmly, though she felt Powder’s gaze on her again and knew immediately better than to give too many details. Even more so when she noticed the alarm in Vi’s eyes. “And… well… honestly, I was looking for this address. Vi was kind enough to guide me here.”
“You wanted to come here?” Ekko asked then, his eyebrows raised in surprise and some disbelief. “Doesn’t Piltover have enough mechanics?”
“I didn’t come looking for repairs…” Caitlyn said, not sure how to start the conversation.
Vi let out a sigh, drawing everyone's attention to her.
“Powder, please, I want you to listen before you make a fuss,” she said.
“What do you mean?” Despite the apparent calm, Caitlyn could sense the tension emanating from the older woman.
Vi frowned, seeming to notice as well, but not knowing what to do to appease her sister.
“I have a gallery, in Piltover,” Caitlyn blurted out. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Ekko pause, pieces clattering onto the counter. “My business partner and I recently started it, and we’re looking for…”
“Kiramman,” Powder interrupted, almost spitting out the words, “Kiramman Gallery.”
Something in her tone didn't sit well with Caitlyn. The words that came out next were quick, without mincing words.
“Th… yes, that’s it, it’s a bit pretentious I know, but my family insisted…” both Ekko and Vi made a face “A-anyway. A friend showed me your works. I understand that my partner, Jayce, and my previous attempts were a bit excessive and I want to offer my apologies, I didn’t want to intrude. And since a phone call wasn’t the most appropriate, I decided to come here personally to offer my space to you and other artists. I think it’s a good opportunity to strengthen relations between the artists of both cities.”
The silence that followed Caitlyn’s invitation wasn’t simply one of doubt or skepticism. It was a charged, dense silence. Everyone seemed to hold their breath. Powder didn’t respond immediately. Her gaze remained fixed on an indeterminate point on the wall behind Caitlyn, the muscles in her jaw visibly tense.
Caitlyn suddenly realized that it wasn't indecision that was holding her back, it wasn't the offer she was thinking about, it was something more alarming. Something wasn't right. Vi seemed to notice the abrupt change in the atmosphere, her gaze moving erratically around as if trying to figure out what was happening.
Powder took a breath, held it for a moment, then let it out slowly, closing her eyes for a second before straightening up.
Then, she looked at Ekko.
He didn't say anything to her, but Caitlyn was attentive enough to notice the entire conversation that passed between them. Ekko then sighed, lowering his head and looking at Caitlyn out of the corner of his eye, no longer as open as before but with a certain suspicion.
“Vi, come with me for a moment,” said the man.
Vi frowned. “What for?”
Ekko shrugged with mock nonchalance. “I need you to help me with something in the back.”
Vi crossed her arms in a haughty manner. “Help you with what exactly?”
“An old radio that doesn’t sound very good. Come on,” Ekko insisted with a tired smile. It was obvious he was making up some excuse, but Vi didn’t see his expression.
“We can do it later,” she replied stubbornly, with open defiance.
Powder exhaled sharply.
“No, Vi. Now.”
Vi looked at her sister with shocked and hurt in equal measure. Caitlyn suddenly felt guilty for having caused, indirectly or not, that reaction.
“Pow…”
Ekko didn't give her a chance to argue further. He walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder to gently but firmly guide her towards the back of the workshop, taking care not to trip over anything along the way.
“Come on, it’s okay.”
Vi protested, but Ekko simply continued walking with her.
Caitlyn watched the scene in complete silence, unable to ignore how Powder waited for the back door to close before moving a single muscle.
Then, something changed.
The tense posture she had maintained broke. Her face twisted into a grimace of raw rage, of suppressed frustration. Her hands balled into fists and her eyes lit up with something that was not just anger but far more powerful.
It was hate.
And that hatred was directed at Caitlyn. The artist felt a chill run down her spine.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?”
The question was not rhetorical.
Powder took a step forward, her voice low but filled with a suppressed anger that threatened to explode at any moment.
Caitlyn didn't know what to answer.
“I just—”
“No! Don’t come with that.” Powder gritted her teeth, her chest rising and falling with labored breaths. “You don’t understand anything. You have no idea what you’re doing here.”
Caitlyn felt her body tense.
“I’m not here to cause trouble,” she tried to say calmly. “I just—”
“Just what?” Powder sneered with a biting laugh, her eyes burning with resentment. “Are you going to tell me this is a ‘great opportunity’? That it’s ‘for the good of all’?”
Caitlyn felt like the conversation was going somewhere she wouldn't know how to escape from next.
“I don’t see what’s wrong with giving a platform to artists from Zaun,” she argued, sounding firmer.
“Don’t you see what’s wrong with it?” Powder repeated in disbelief. Her knuckles turned white from the pressure on her fists.
Caitlyn watched her take a breath, as if containing what she really wanted to say.
“You’re just like all your kind,” Powder spat with contempt, taking a step back as if Caitlyn were a pest. “You come here with your polite manners and empty promises, pretending you’re doing us a favor.”
Caitlyn opened her mouth to protest, but Powder cut her off before she could say anything.
“You know what I think of your gallery?” Her smile was laced with venom. “It’s just another nice way to sell us. To treat us like exotic decoration on their fancy walls. A novel attraction for the people of Piltover, who will be thrilled to see ‘authentic Zaun art’ as if we were circus monkeys.”
Caitlyn felt something in her chest turn.
“That's not true,” she replied, not bothering to hide her indignation.
“No?” Powder challenged her with a look. “Tell me, why do you care so much about Zaun’s art so suddenly? Why do you think you have the right to come here and tell me what to do with mine?”
The question caught her off guard.
Caitlyn hesitated for a moment, not because she didn't have an answer, but because Powder looked at her as if any word, she said was just another lie.
Caitlyn's heart was pounding.
She didn't want to use them. She didn't see them as an attraction or an exotic novelty. She just wanted to help. And in the process, help herself find her way again, to understand why she was so lost.
But how could she explain that to someone who had already decided to hate her?
Powder scrutinized her silently for a second longer before taking a step back.
“I don’t care who you are or what you pretend to offer.” Her voice was lower now, but no less deadly. “Get out and never come back.”
It was the last thing she said before he turned away, leaving Caitlyn alone in the midst of a whirlwind of emotions she didn't know how to process. She felt the urge to do something, to say anything before Powder left.
She didn't know why, but the idea of leaving the conversation like that, broken and full of resentment, weighed on her chest.
"Wait."
Her voice wasn't firm, but it was clear enough to stop Powder, who turned slowly with her eyes half-closed.
"What?"
There was no patience in her tone. Only distrust. Caitlyn swallowed, noticing how tense her own body was.
Powder hated her. She didn't even know why, but she felt it in every word, in every look. She'd known Vi's sister for less than 15 minutes and she already looked like she'd happily dance on Caitlyn’s grave if given the slightest chance to do so.
"You're wrong about me," Caitlyn said more confidently. "I'm not here to take advantage of anyone."
Powder let out an incredulous laugh, crossing her arms.
"Yeah, right. And I'm the fucking queen of Piltover."
Caitlyn took a deep breath.
"I just want to give artists in Zaun what they deserve. Recognition. Spaces. Opportunities."
"Opportunities?" Powder spat the word out like it was poison. "And what makes you think we need your opportunities?"
Caitlyn looked at her, trying to read past her anger.
"Don't you want Zaun's art to be seen? Appreciated?"
Powder's expression twisted into a furious grimace.
"It is already," she said coldly. "Here, by our own people. We don't need someone from Piltover coming to tell us how valuable we are."
Caitlyn felt like every attempt at reaching out bounced off an invisible wall, one that had nothing to do with her personally, but included her simply because of who she was.
"Listen," she insisted, taking a step forward. "I know you don't trust me. I don't expect you to right away, but at least give me a chance to prove to you that—"
"Prove to me what?" Powder interrupted her. "That you're not like the others? That you have good intentions?"
Caitlyn closed her mouth.
Powder stepped forward, looking her straight in the eyes.
"Good intentions mean nothing when you've already done harm."
The phrase hit her like a blast of icy air.
“What harm have I done to you?” Caitlyn asked in genuine confusion. “I don’t know you!”
"You don't even know," Powder muttered, something dark in her voice. “You came here, with my sister, claiming to be the fucking solution…” she cut herself off, blinking away what looked like angry tears “Your goddamn family have done enough already”
For Caitlyn, that was the worst.
Powder didn't hate her just for being from Piltover. It wasn't a random grudge. It was personal. But Caitlyn had no idea why.
Powder clenched her fists and looked away, her breathing ragged. She was clearly debating whether to say more or keep quiet.
And then, she exhaled sharply.
"Just…" Her voice sounded tired, as if each word was difficult to form. "Stay away from my sister, do you hear me? You don't even have the right to breathe near her. I don’t want to look at your stupid face or hear your stupid family name around my sister ever again"
Caitlyn opened her mouth, but the way Powder looked at her made any argument die in her throat.
It was a warning.
Not a threat, not a request. A real warning.
And Caitlyn had no idea what to do with that.
Powder stood in place, her posture rigid, as if she was waiting for something else. Maybe an answer. Maybe a reason to really explode. But Caitlyn just stared at her. Because for the first time in the entire conversation, maybe in her entire life, she didn't know what to say.
The silence that settled between them was thick, suffocating. Caitlyn swallowed hard, feeling a lump forming in her throat, one she couldn’t allow herself to loosen. Her chest tightened with a familiar feeling, that cold pang of knowing that no matter what she said, she had already lost.
It wasn't the first time someone had looked down on her, but something in Powder's eyes struck a chord deeper than she cared to admit.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to keep her composure. She didn't look away, even though she felt her vision blur for a moment. No. She wasn't going to break. Not here. Not in front of Powder.
So, she nodded, her expression carefully neutral.
"I understand," was all she said.
But she didn't. She didn't understand at all. And that hurt more than it should.
She turned then, leaving the store without looking back, with just one last thought directed at the woman who managed to impressed her more than anyone she was meet in her life.
I'm sorry, Vi.
:::::::
When the door finally closed behind Caitlyn, the silence left behind was almost deafening.
Powder didn’t move immediately. Her breathing was ragged, too fast for someone who had tried to stand her ground. Her hands shook, clenched into fists at her sides. She could feel her heartbeat hammering in her ears, adrenaline still coursing through her veins.
She had wanted to scream more. Tell Caitlyn everything she really thought, everything she had carried on her shoulders for years. But Vi was there, just a door away. Her sister could hear her. And Vi… she didn’t need any more fights in her life. Not if Powder could help it.
Powder was the oldest, she was the only one who had to fight against the world if necessary. The one who had to take responsibility.
She let out a shaky sigh and ran a hand over her face, as if that would erase the tension from her features. But it didn't. She still felt that burning behind her eyes, that unbearable pressure in her chest, as if something inside her was about to break.
She hated this. She hated feeling this way. She hated that a stranger from Piltover had the power to upset her so.
With a sudden movement, she grabbed the first thing she found on the counter—an old wrench—and threw it against the wall. The blow resounded through the workshop, metallic and dry, but it brought no relief, only more emptiness inside her.
Powder brought her hands to her hair, tugging lightly at the roots as her jaw tightened.
"Damn it..." she muttered under her breath, her voice barely a broken thread in the solitude of the workshop.
She stood there for a moment, her breathing heavy and her thoughts tangled, before finally plopping down into one of the nearby chairs. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and burying the face in her hands.
No matter how hard she tried to protect Vi, it was never enough. She could never erase the past. She could never make the scars go away. she couldn't fulfill her role as she should.
She had not been able to do it in the past and she could not do it in the present.
And now… now that damned Piltover woman was here, stirring up old wounds that had never healed.
Powder didn't move immediately. Her body was still tense, her breathing slightly labored. The rage was still there, throbbing in her chest, mixed with something deeper. Something that hurt her to much to ever admit.
One of the workshop doors opened again, and the steps that entered were different this time. Light, but firm.
Ekko.
Vi came with him, her gait careful but sure. Her sister always had that ease of moving even without sight, as if the city was guiding her instead of the other way around. It was one of the many things Powder admired about her.
Powder felt Vi's hand on her arm before she heard her voice. A warm touch, filled with that concern she never said out loud.
“Pow?”
Powder closed her eyes for a moment, swallowing her automatic response. “I’m fine.” Because she wasn’t. She dropped her arms, exhausted.
Ekko was soon at her side, his presence an anchor, a silent reminder that she was not alone.
“Hey,” he said softly but blunt, “What happened?”
Powder clenched her jaw, her gaze still fixed on the ground.
“Nothing,” she muttered, although neither of them seemed to believe him.
Ekko knew her too well. He didn't need to see her face to know that she was upset. That something deep and old had stirred inside her, something she'd rather leave buried.
He didn't insist. He just moved a little closer, crouching down and pressing his forehead against hers in a silent, familiar gesture.
Powder exhaled, her shoulders losing some of their stiffness.
Vi, for her part, stayed close, waiting to do something but giving her space, but without moving away.
“I don’t understand what’s wrong, Pow,” her sister whispered softly, “but if you’re upset, it has to be about something important.”
Powder felt the pang of guilt in her chest. Vi always did this. Always tried to find a way to understand her, even when she couldn't explain it herself. Searched for a way to comfort her.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said at last, voice lower now.
Ekko slid his hand up to take hers, lacing their fingers together calmly. Powder held his grip tightly. He understood what she couldn’t said, the weight she carried because he was with her from the beginning.
Vi nodded, though Powder knew her sister wasn't satisfied with the answer.
“Okay,” she agreed. “But… you can count on me, you know? I’m not a kid anymore. You can trust me with anything. I can help”
“I trust you, never doubt that,” Powder was quick to say.
“Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way”
Powder didn't respond, filled with guilt.
She just let out a heavy exhale and let her head rest for a moment on Ekko's shoulder. Vi didn't say anything else. Instead, she slipped her arm around her in a brief hug, giving her the silent comfort she'd always offered.
And for a moment, just a few seconds, Powder allowed the anger to fade enough to lean on them.