Behind Blue Eyes

The Last Drop pulsed with subdued life as the evening settled in. Patrons gathered in small clusters, their hushed voices and muted laughter bouncing off the worn walls. The dim light softened the edges of the bar’s rough-hewn interior, casting long shadows that seemed to breathe with the rhythm of the Undercity. The faint hum of an old, flickering neon sign outside seeped through the windows, adding a soft buzz to the low ambiance.

At one of the tables near the bar, Caitlyn sat with her hands resting on the scratched wood, her gaze fixed on Vi, who lingered behind the counter. The Sheriff’s expression was calm, tinged with polite amusement, though her inquisitive eyes didn’t miss the tension in the way Vi moved; her steps deliberate, her fingers brushing subtly along the edges of the bar to keep her bearings. Caitlyn admired the way Vi carried herself despite her blindness, each movement precise, born of necessity and years of adaptation.

As Caitlyn studied the young woman, an unshakable sense of familiarity began to settle in her mind, like a puzzle slowly snapping into place. The rough cut of Vi’s hair, the subtle way she tilted her head slightly as though listening for something unseen; it stirred a memory buried deep in Caitlyn’s past. Her amusement faded slowly, replaced by quiet contemplation as realization crept in, unwelcome yet undeniable.

She’d seen Vi before. Not here, not in Zaun, but in Piltover. A single, vivid image burned into her memory surfaced: the smoldering wreckage of an apartment, the acrid stench of burnt wood and ozone filling the air. She could still hear the faint crackle of fire and the frantic shouts of bystanders. She had been just fourteen, standing frozen in the hallway outside her parents’ property in the Academy district, confusion turning to terror as the floor beneath her feet seemed to tremble.

The explosion had come without warning, a sudden, blinding blue flash that painted the walls of the narrow hallway in a stark, electric hue. The force of it rattled her bones, sending a deafening wave through the air that left her ears ringing for hours afterward. Caitlyn had been lucky; her position in the hallway shielded her from harm, though her body trembled with the force of the blast. Jayce had been less fortunate, thrown back as he reached for the apartment door. She remembered how he hit the wall with a sickening thud, clutching his head in pain as blood trickled from a gash above his temple. His body slumping to the side replayed in her mind even now.

And inside… Caitlyn’s chest tightened as the memory sharpened with painful clarity. Inside the apartment had been a group of Zaunite children, their faces etched into her mind as vividly as the day it happened.

She remembered them clearly now. The boy with the goggles, his larger frame hunched over something on the ground, face streaked with soot. The louder one with the wide grin that seemed at odds with the fear in his eyes as he pulled the tiny girl with short pigtails toward the balcony. The girl’s blue eyes had been filled with tears, her expression frozen in shock as her small hands clutched a small pouch too tightly. And her. The pink-haired girl who had stood protectively in front of the others, defiance radiating from her even as the building began to crumble around them.

Caitlyn recalled the sickening detail of how the girl’s clothes had burned into her flesh along the left side of her body, smoke rising in faint tendrils as she collapsed. Her face twisted in pain, her eyes squeezed shut, and for one terribly long moment Caitlyn thought she was going to be stuck there. But then the boys, desperate and determined, had dragged her to the balcony, their small hands trembling as they pulled her to safety.

Vi.

Caitlyn’s stomach twisted as the pieces clicked into place. Vi had been there, one of the survivors of that terrible day. The apartment had belonged to her family, a property they rarely visited but still kept in their name. It had served as Jayce’s living space and workshop, a place where he pushed boundaries and conducted experiments he had no business attempting. Caitlyn’s parents had been his patrons at the Academy, funding his brilliance, blind to the danger it might have posed.

The top floor had been packed with illegal experimental materials; volatile arcane energy stored in chests that should have been destroyed, were destroyed after the fact. Caitlyn’s mother had silenced the aftermath, using her influence as a councilor to cover it all up and shield the family from scandal. The council including Heimerdinger, had expelled Jayce from the Academy and banished him from setting foot in Piltover again, turning their backs on him. Caitlyn still felt the sting of his exile, the way it fractured their bond. Jayce had been her brother in every way that mattered, and losing him had left a wound that never truly healed.

But the damage had already been done. The blast hadn’t just destroyed property; it had shattered lives. Caitlyn thought of Vi now, standing behind the bar with faint scars glowing softly at the edges of her eyes. Those scars, coupled with the milky blue of her blindness, told a story Caitlyn didn’t need to hear aloud to understand. She felt the weight of it settle on her shoulders, a guilt she couldn’t explain why she had.

Vi’s movements, so deliberate, so practiced, spoke of years of learning to navigate the world without sight. The way her fingers brushed the bar’s surface as if memorizing every inch of it, the subtle tilt of her head as she listened for cues from the room, all of it revealed a quiet resilience that stirred something deep within Caitlyn. Admiration, yes, but also regret.

Caitlyn’s grip tightened slightly on the edge of the table as guilt and curiosity warred within her. She wanted to say something, to ask if Vi remembered the explosion too, but the thought was absurd. Of course she remembered. How could she not? What could Caitlyn possibly say to make any of it right? So she remained silent, keeping the revelation, to herself. If Vi wanted to tell her about that day she would not be the one to push her.

She let the hum of the bar wash over her, drowning her thoughts as she continued to watch Vi. Her admiration deepened, laced with a lingering sense of regret and an inexplicable desire to understand and get acquainted with the woman in front of her. Caitlyn couldn’t change the past, but maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to build something new from the ashes.

“Are you just going to sit there staring at me all night, Sheriff?” Vi muttered, her tone edged with feigned irritation as she wiped down the counter, her fingers moving methodically along the rag. The faint glow of the bar’s dim lights reflected off her short pink hair, which was shaved on one side, the other side slightly longer and tousled from her habitual runs of frustration through it. The faint scars at the corners of her eyes seemed to catch the light, an extreme reminder of the hardship she carried within her.

Caitlyn leaned back slightly in her chair, the corners of her mouth curling into a soft smile that matched her composed demeanor. Her crisp navy coat, adorned with Piltover’s insignia, framed her tall, slender figure, while the sharp lines of her jaw and the regal arch of her brow gave her an air of quiet authority. “That depends,” she replied smoothly, her rich, formal accent adding a purposeful weight to her words. “Are you going to keep avoiding me all night?”

Vi sighed, the sound heavy with exasperation, though the slight twitch of her lips betrayed the ghost of a smile she was trying to suppress. “I’m not avoiding you,” she said, though the stiffness in her posture and the subtle way her fingers tightened on the rag suggested otherwise.

Caitlyn raised a single eyebrow, her blue eyes flickering with intrigue, but chose not to press further. Instead, her attention shifted to the eclectic group of people who had gathered nearby, their presence bringing a vibrancy to the bar that contrasted with its otherwise worn and muted atmosphere.

Powder was perched on a stool near the bar, her short blue hair styled into two uneven buns that bobbed as she tinkered with a small mechanical device in her hands. Her red vest, worn over a slightly undersized white shirt, gave her an endearing, playful look. Her tongue poked out in concentration, and every so often, she muttered something under her breath, her wide blue eyes darting back and forth as if calculating the machine’s intricacies.

Across from her sat a dark skinned young man, his white dreadlocks pulled back into a neat yet stylish bun, accentuating the sharp angles of his face. He was dressed in an informal green suit that gave him a polished but effortless appearance, the fabric slightly rumpled as if he had been too busy to smooth it out. He watched Powder’s work with a mixture of fascination and mild concern, his dark brown eyes narrowing slightly every time a spark or faint puff of smoke emitted from the contraption in her hands.

At a table nearby, two different men were deeply engrossed in a spirited game of cards. The slimmer one had short, messy hair stuck out in every direction, his thin mustache twitching slightly as he smirked at the larger man. His mismatched shirt and vest looked hastily thrown together, as though his appearance had been an afterthought. The other young man, by contrast, was impeccably dressed, his clean-shaven face giving him a polished air that complemented the tailored suit he wore. The two bickered good-naturedly over the game, one gesturing animatedly while the other leaned back in his chair with an amused, patient grin, waiting for his friend to trip over his own arguments.

Behind the bar, Vander loomed with his usual quiet strength. His large shoulders were hunched slightly as he cleaned a glass with the ease of someone who had spent years mastering the task. His graying hair framed his weathered face, the lines around his eyes deepened by a lifetime of burdens and laughter alike. He cast a watchful gaze between Vi and Caitlyn, a faint smile tugging at his lips. The way his eyes lingered on Vi suggested a mixture of pride and quiet concern, while his occasional glances at Caitlyn held a knowing amusement, as though he had already discerned the subtle interplay between the two women.

Caitlyn observed the group with quiet curiosity, noting the familial bond that tied them together, even amidst their differences. It was a dynamic she found oddly comforting, though it also underscored how much of an outsider she was in this space. Still, the easy banter and shared laughter warmed the air, and for a moment, Caitlyn felt herself relax.

Vi, meanwhile, continued to avoid Caitlyn’s gaze, focusing intently on a stubborn stain on the counter that didn’t actually exist. The Sheriff’s presence unsettled her in a way she couldn’t quite articulate; part intrigue, part annoyance, and part something she wasn’t ready to name. As she worked, her fingers briefly brushed the hidden vial of shimmer in her pocket, her movements so subtle that no one could have noticed. The familiar cool glass against her fingertips brought her a fleeting sense of control, though it did little to quiet the racing of her thoughts.

Caitlyn’s smile deepened slightly as her eyes returned to Vi. “So,” she began, her tone light and inviting, a subtle challenge glimmering in her voice. “Are you going to introduce me to your friends, or should I take the initiative?”

Vi hesitated, her fingers tightening briefly around the rag in her hand, the worn fabric twisting under her grip. She didn’t like this; didn’t like how Caitlyn had slipped so easily into her world, didn’t like how the woman’s voice seemed to soften the edges of her carefully constructed defenses. It made her feel exposed, like Caitlyn could see right through her tough exterior to something more vulnerable beneath.

Reluctantly, Vi set the rag down with deliberate care and turned toward the room, her hand brushing the edge of the bar for balance as she moved. “Alright,” she said gruffly, her voice a little louder than it needed to be, as though trying to hide her discomfort. She gestured vaguely in Caitlyn’s direction. “Everyone, this is Caitlyn. She’s, uh… She’s new?”

Powder was the first to look up, her bright eyes flicking between Caitlyn and Vi with unabashed curiosity. Her mischievous grin widened as she caught the faint pink creeping up Vi’s neck. “New, huh?” she teased, her tone playful. “She’s pretty new, Vi.”

“Shut it, Powder,” Vi snapped, though her voice lacked its usual edge. Her ears burned, and the redness crawling up her neck was impossible to hide.

Caitlyn chuckled softly, the corners of her lips quirking upward as her gaze lingered on Vi, enjoying the sight of her flustered. She turned her attention back to Powder, her formal composure softening further. “It’s a pleasure to meet you officially this time,” she said warmly, inclining her head.

Powder giggled, the sound light and genuine, her small mechanical device momentarily forgotten on the bar. “Oh, a pleasure, huh?” she repeated in mock exaggeration, mimicking Caitlyn’s refined tone before turning to her sister. “You hear that, Vi? A Pleasure.”

Powder’s grin stretched even wider at her sister’s furthering blush, her enthusiasm impossible to contain. “I’m Powder, but you already know that.” Her voice was bubbly and cheerful, a stark contrast to Vi’s gruffness, and her vibrant energy lit up the room.

“Janna kill me, please,” Vi muttered under her breath, dragging a hand down her face. Vander, standing nearby, chuckled quietly, shaking his head at the interaction.

“That’s Mylo and Claggor,” Vi continued quickly, eager to move on, gesturing vaguely toward the card table.

“Sup,” Mylo said without looking up, his brow furrowed in concentration as he studied his cards. His thin mustache twitched as he smirked at Claggor across the table.

Claggor, ever the polite one, straightened slightly in his chair. He offered Caitlyn a wave, in contrast to Mylo’s disinterest. “Nice to meet you, Ma’am,” he said with a respectful nod, his deep voice carrying a quiet sincerity.

“And that’s Ekko,” Vi finished, her tone softening slightly as she nodded toward the young inventor seated near Powder.

Ekko grinned, he leaned back slightly in his stool, his arms crossed as he sized Caitlyn up with an amused glint in his dark eyes. “So you’re the Sheriff, huh? You don’t look like the scary Enforcers they used to send down here.”

“Scary is subjective,” Caitlyn replied smoothly, her small smile conveying a confidence that wasn’t boastful but assured. “But no, I’m not here to intimidate anyone.” Her eyes flicked toward Vi, her smile growing into something teasing. “Well, maybe one person.”

Vi scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. “You’ve met everyone. Happy now?” she grumbled, her tone defensive, though the faintest twitch at the corner of her lips betrayed her.

“Not quite, but getting there,” Caitlyn replied lightly, her voice laced with quiet amusement. Vi shifted slightly, her arms tightening across her chest as though trying to shield herself from whatever spell Caitlyn seemed to cast with every word.

Vander watched from his spot behind the bar, shaking his head with a knowing smile. For all of Vi’s rough edges and bluster, it was clear Caitlyn had managed to slip past the walls she kept so carefully in place, and he couldn’t decide if he found it amusing or alarming.

The night unfolded slowly, a gentle ebb and flow of conversation and clinking glasses as Caitlyn made a genuine effort to engage with the group. She’d moved from the table to the bar in a graceful, unhurried way, her composure standing out in contrast to the sometimes frenetic energy of the Undercity regulars. Powder, perched on her stool with two small buns wobbling atop her short blue hair, immediately seized on the opportunity to show off her latest invention; a compact mechanical device that whirred and clicked each time she prodded a tiny lever. Her red vest gleamed under the low bar lights, and she grinned at every impressed look Caitlyn sent her way.

“You built that yourself?” Caitlyn asked, her eyebrows lifting in genuine admiration as she leaned closer. The subtle scents of metal polish and machine oil tickled her nose.

Powder nodded excitedly, a proud flush coloring her cheeks. “It’s a mini-grappler… well, it’s supposed to be. Still working out the kinks. But once I get it right, it’ll shoot a cable strong enough to hold my weight.” She paused, her gaze flicking to Vi’s general direction, as though checking for approval. “Vi’s tried it, but… well… let’s just say we had a few rough landings,” she added with a sheepish laugh.

Caitlyn chuckled softly, imagining Vi being unexpectedly hoisted off the ground. “You’re quite the engineer. I’m sure you’ll have it up and running in little to no time.”

Powder beamed, and Ekko leaned in to examine the device. “Told you it was impressive,” he chimed in, his dark eyes sparkling with pride. “But you should see some of her other creations. This is just the tip of the iceberg.”

Not far from them, Mylo and Claggor were still immersed in their card game. Mylo, with his perpetually messy hair and thin mustache, bantered loudly as he slapped down his cards, occasionally shooting triumphant glances at Claggor. Meanwhile, Claggor remained calm and collected. He barely lifted an eyebrow at Mylo’s theatrics, only responding with the occasional nod or polite chuckle.

Caitlyn turned to them as they wrapped up a round, offering a polite smile. “How’s the game going?”

Mylo scoffed, raking in the cards. “He’d be losing if he didn’t have that annoyingly perfect poker face,” he muttered, nodding at Claggor.

Claggor chuckled, giving Caitlyn a respectful nod. “Don’t let him fool you, Ma’am. He’s got enough luck to keep me on edge.”

Meanwhile, Vi hovered near the bar, sometimes sliding behind it to grab a cloth or to rearrange bottles that didn’t need rearranging. Each time the noise grew too loud or the chatter pressed in on her, she disappeared briefly into the back room, tense figure slipping through the doorway.

Every time Vi left, she reached into her pocket for the small vial of shimmer she kept hidden, its faint glow illuminating her fingers like a secret she could neither confront nor discard. With a careful flick of the cap, she tipped a few drops onto her tongue, allowing the biting bitterness to wash away the dull roar in her head. The relief was as immediate as it was fleeting, and she returned to the bar with her shoulders squared, her unseeing eyes set in a determined line.

But Caitlyn waited for her every time. She would pause her conversation; be it with Powder, Mylo, or Claggor, and turn to face Vi the moment she emerged, her expression unreadable but undeniably warm.

“You know,” Caitlyn said quietly on Vi’s latest return, “if you continue to run off like that, I’ll begin to suspect you truly don’t want me here.” Her voice was low enough that only Vi could hear, a gentle tease that didn’t press too hard.

Vi shrugged, letting her fingers brush along the bar’s surface as she navigated closer, the edges of her shoulders tense with a frustration she couldn’t quite name. “Nah, you’re not too bad,” she muttered, her tone rough around the edges. “Still fucking annoying though.”

Caitlyn’s lips quirked upward, the soft light playing across her features. “Persistent,” she corrected, tilting her head thoughtfully. She studied Vi for a moment, noting the faint way her forehead creased, the tension in her jaw that never fully relaxed. “You’re a good sister,” Caitlyn added, glancing at Powder, who had resumed fiddling with her gadget near Ekko. “It’s clear how much they all care about you.”

Vi stiffened slightly, her hand curling against the side of the bar. “They don’t need me,” she said, her voice so quiet Caitlyn had to lean in to catch the words.

“That’s not true,” Caitlyn replied, her gaze steady and unwavering. “You’re the one holding this… group together, Vi. Whether you can see it or not.”

Vi swallowed, her jaw tightening as she turned her head away from Caitlyn, trying to hide the conflicting emotions playing out across her face. She wasn’t used to anyone, let alone a polished Piltover Sheriff, looking so closely, and seeing so much. It was unnerving, but there was a small, stubborn part of her that didn’t entirely hate it.

The hours slipped by, and gradually, the bar emptied until only the small group remained. Powder and Ekko eventually drifted off, murmuring about an early start on some new project. Mylo and Claggor packed up their cards, Mylo stretching and yawning dramatically while Claggor offered polite farewells. Vander, ever the silent sentinel, locked the door after the last patron left, giving a small nod of acknowledgment to Caitlyn before disappearing into the back room, presumably to finish inventory or straighten out the supplies.

When the others were gone, Caitlyn lingered at the bar, finishing off the last of her drink. Her presence weighed on Vi’s senses, a quiet reminder that she hadn’t managed to scare her off. Instead, Caitlyn seemed more determined than ever to stay rooted in Vi’s orbit.

Finally, Vi wiped down the counter one last time, the repetitive motion doing little to calm her racing thoughts or distract her from the steady sound of Caitlyn’s breathing only a few feet away. Her eyes fixed in a forward stare, but her attention was undeniably drawn to the woman in front of her. Even without sight, she felt Caitlyn’s presence, as tangible as the bar beneath her fingertips.

“You didn’t have to stay,” Vi muttered, her tone edged with lingering irritation and the faintest trace of unease. She ran the cloth over a spot she had already cleaned countless times tonight, her fingers brushing the warm, worn wood as she finished.

“Neither did you,” Caitlyn replied gently, a soft smile playing on her lips. Though her words were mild, they carried a quiet confidence, a reassurance that her choice to stay had been an intentional one.

Vi sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of the evening. She was too tired to argue the point. She didn’t have a response for that, so she simply nodded toward the bar’s front door. “You should go,” she said, her voice quieter than before. “It’s late.”

Caitlyn hesitated for just a moment before rising to her feet with a graceful, deliberate movement. Her polished boots made a subtle click against the bar’s uneven floorboards, and the soft rustle of her coat was oddly comforting. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, her voice warm but not presumptuous—an invitation rather than a command.

Vi said nothing. Instead, she navigated around the bar with practiced care, her hand brushing the edge to guide herself toward the door. As she moved, she felt the air shift when Caitlyn followed. With a deft motion, Vi pulled out a set of keys from her pocket, the metallic jingle sounding louder than usual in the near-empty room. She fit the correct key into the lock by touch alone, her fingers reading the shape of the metal like second nature, then held the door open for Caitlyn.

“Thank you,” Caitlyn murmured, stepping out into the cool night air. Her gaze lingered on Vi, a gentle curiosity in her eyes that Vi could sense rather than see.

Vi nodded once, a brief incline of her head, and resisted the instinct to pull away from the moment. The faint night breeze carried the hum of Zaun’s distant machinery and the soft shuffle of footsteps on the streets beyond. She felt Caitlyn pause, as though weighing whether to say more, but the Sheriff remained silent, her smile steady before finally turning to leave.

When Caitlyn was gone, Vi stood in the open doorway for a moment longer, gripping the edge of the doorframe in her hand. The ache behind her eyes had dulled to a faint hum, and her mind swirled with thoughts she couldn’t quite pin down. She wasn’t entirely sure why she didn’t just lock up and storm off to her basement room—there was no logical reason for her to linger.

But as she finally turned back inside, closing the door with care and twisting the key until the lock clicked, a small part of her admitted that she was already looking forward to tomorrow.