Prologue
It was always them. The brand new blue and yellow jerseys. The floodlights and the fancy dressing rooms. The warm dugouts and the shiny new equipment.
It was always Piltover - ever since Vi was 6. Since she’d first picked up a hurley, since she’d ever clipped the once far too big helmet over her face.
It had always been them.
The town of Zaun had loathed the town of Piltover, a bridge away since the dawn of time. Everyone had their theories, old civil war tensions, rival families, a ruinous love affair, all Vi knew was that Pilties were rich, stuck up and most importantly the enemy.
On and off the pitch.
The pitch was just a legal way to smack Pilties with ash sticks and get away with it.
And oh how she loved it.
Ever since her mother had handed her that stick at 5 years old, Vi had felt a burning passion for the game. The blink and you miss it passes, the feel of the sliotar hitting her hands at breakneck speed, the way a game could turn at any second. Growing up watching her father and Vander in the stands had been like nothing else. The home crowd roaring, screaming, as the black and red jerseys of Zaun made their attack.
A high puck from Vander, seemingly magnetically drawn to the hand of Silco, that willowy forward who no one could keep up with, lashing the sliotar into the back of the net, the loose netting shaking as it billows - the goalie didn’t even stand a chance. Nor did the defenders whose hurl’s would fall uselessly in front of Silco’s final blow.
2 points up in the final five minutes.
If only it had stayed that way.
Fuckin’ Pilties never let them have shit.
—-
Saturday October 15th - 2024 (U16 Season - County Semi Final)
It all happened so fast, Vi didn’t think anyone could describe it.
Kiramman, charging up the field, long legs pushing her faster than anyone else.
Kiramman, shooting off a perfectly aimed pass to Talis, who faked left, before going right, Mylo falling flat on his face.
Talis, flicking a pass to Kiramman, who caught it without even looking, Vi hot on her tails at the Piltover 65, nothing but grass and Ekko between Kiramman and a goal.
The push had failed spectacularly, it was always gonna be a gamble, but Vi could see the game unravelling when Powder fumbled the sliotar at the 20 as she tried to pick it up, the Piltover defender flicking out to the corner, another Piltie jabbing it up and scanning, of course finding Kiramman and sending it off.
That was the end of it really.
Less than a minute left.
Zaun a point up.
Vi should’ve seen it coming.
Past the midfield line, the balls on Kiramman’s stick.
The crowds going crazy, Kiramman’s still running - sprinting.
65 line.
Vi glanced around, Talis is there for support, trailed by a desperate Powder. Kiramman’s studded heels fly up in Vi’s face, bits of grass and mud flicking up into the air, Vi’s stick bounces aimlessly just next to Kiramman’s shoulder.
At the 50 line.
Vi can only process the sinking feeling of losing, once more, to Piltover. To Caitlyn Kiramman.
In that moment she does something drastic.
She dives forward, tossing her stick aside, catching Kiramman’s ankles in her hands, it’s like it happens in slow motion. Kiramman’s long legs tangle in Vi’s arms, the her hurley and the sliotar flying forward as Kiramman hits the ground - hard.
Vi does too.
The whistle blows frantically, Vi can’t hear anything except the rush of blood in her ears, the sound of her own panting breaths as her chest burns.
As the world comes back into regular speed, Kiramman rolls over, gasping and clawing at her chest, Vi can’t comprehend what’s happening, until Caitlyn’s head shoots up, blue eyes wide and panicked. Her limbs sprawl as she rolls back onto her stomach, Vi crawls to her knees, scrambling to get to her feet, to help, but she’s pushed roughly back onto the ground as the Piltover full forward rushes past her, shooting her the most disgusted look she’s ever seen.
“It’s okay Cait, breathe, you’re just winded” he says vaguely. Patting Kiramman’s back as she heaves.
What the fuck did she just do.
Vi turns slowly, eyes desperately searching for the clock.
10 seconds left.
Zaun: 1-11 (14)
Piltover: 2-7 (13)
A fucking point.
“Vi, you alright?” Claggor asked, pulling her to her feet.
Vi inhaled deeply, glancing down to where Kiramman sat, her helmet ripped off to revealed midnight blue hair stuck to her forehead, a small crowd of coaches and teammates offering water bottles had gathered around her.
At least she was breathing normally.
Vi looked back to Claggor shaking her head.
“I fucked it”
Vi was sent off, the crowd actually booed her as she walked off the pitch, pulling her helmet off and slumping into the corner of the dugout.
Kiramman got a free puck from just inside the 45, a point would mean extra time, a goal would mean they won.
Vi didn’t even need to look as the ball sailed perfectly from where Kiramman had crouched down, rolled it onto her stick and slapped it into the air, forming to perfect arc, to slip just past the bas of Ekkos hurl and into the back of the net.
She buried her head in her hands as the Piltover team erupted into celebrations, a desolate Zaun team falling to their knees.
She felt a strong hand pat her shoulder, looking up shyly to where Sevika stood, shaking her head slightly.
“Vi, look, don’t sweat it” She muttered, but Vi could feel the shift, feel the slightly loss of respect, even more so when her coach leaned in and whispered in her ear “But you should’ve let her take the point”