Teammates
School didn’t matter much to Vi, she did well enough, teachers were always whining to Vander that she didn’t apply herself well enough or that she acted out in class too much despite her good enough grades.
Then she had Vander on her case at home. It had been the same song and dance for the past five years, always running in circles, never feeling like she could get a break between school in the winter and hurling in the summer.
Vander was an intense man, he wanted Vi and Powder to excel in pretty much all areas - Powder was smart, something Vi would envy if she didn’t know how much pressure her sister felt constantly. Vi had gone past that, Vander’s reprimands and teachers scorn had little effect on her, but to Powder a good grade and Vander’s approval was everything, sometimes Vi felt bed, that she didn’t apply herself more, try a little harder to lessen the burden that befell her sister, but that what she worked every weekend and free evening in Vander’s bar for, that’s what hurling was for, that’s where Vi excelled.
Maths was one of the only subjects Vi did well in, because to her, it was easy, you either knew it or you didn’t. She didn’t have to bother learning shit after school or practicing at it constantly, she just did it. It was the only subject holding her standards together, and she didn’t even have to really try.
That of course meant it was the only class she had with the long legged centre forward that drove her crazy in every sense of the word.
Kiramman, ever the teachers pet was always in the front row, by the window, next to the prissy Piltover captain Mel Medarda, Vi sat diagonally from the pair, in the back corner, the perfect view point, Kiramman would always shoot her looks in class, her face turning pink when their eyes met - Vi found it frustratingly adorable.
Normally she’d pucker her lips or wiggle her brows, causing Kiramman to cough in order to cover up a laugh. Luckily no one seemed to have caught on, at the very least people that they were cordial.
If only they knew.
Kiramman slipped a worksheet onto Vi’s desk, Vis gaze sliding up the taller girls long fingers, to her arm before settling on her piercing gaze, head tilted in a silent question, Vi finds herself grinning like a lovesick fool, Kiramman’s dorky reading glasses are making her eyes slightly bigger beneath the lenses, magnifying her eyes, like pools of Mediterranean ocean, clear and tantalising.
Kiramman coughs, her finger tapping at the top of the sheet pointedly. Vi looks down quickly, the word ‘Bathroom’ written in Kiramman’s swirl across the top, oh yes, Vi looks up as Kiramman walks away, their eyes not parting until Kiramman places a sheet on the desk next to Vi.
Vi coughs five times in confirmation, running the top of the page through her thumb and index finger and Kiramman nods, seemingly to herself, though Vi knows it’s in acknowledgment. They’d developed this system at the start, secret ways of letting the other know stuff, or planning rendezvous’ that would have their parents pitching fits.
It was such a rush, all this shit with Kiramman. Vis knee wouldn’t quit bouncing the rest of the class, her eyes darting from the clock to Kiramman in exhaustive anticipation. Kiramman was the best drug she’d ever taken and she wasn’t sure she wanted to quit - consequences be damned.
Of course, herself and Kiramman weren’t always sickeningly curiosity about each other, Vi hated her before 5 months ago, weird how quickly everything changes.
It was all thanks to the schools second team being cut, something that at the time, Vi had been obscenely outraged by, but now, well now she had the benefit of hindsight, so now, she only wished it had happened sooner.
“It’s totally unfair!” Vi had cried, slamming her fists into the counter in a rage from where she stood across from the lumbering figure of her father, “We’ve been doing just as well as them in our league!”
Vander huffed, placing his reading glasses delicately atop his head as he let the letter detailing why the schools second team would be cut, and the kids from both Zaun and Piltover would be on the same team. Vi had pitched a fit in school when they’d been handed out as well, she nearly swung at stupid Jayce stupid Talis for saying something smug as well - which had got her a detention to top it all off.
“It’s ridiculous” Vander scoffed, shaking his head and tutting lightly
“How are we supposed to play with them?” Vi sneered, pure hatred filling her voice as she began pacing in front of the small kitchen island, practically burning a path into the worn linoleum, Powder payed them no mind as she worked from the nearby table.
Vander sighed, running a large hand down his weary face, shrugging his shoulders.
“I doubt many Zaunites will get played” he surmised, with another heavy shrug.
Vi paused in her pacing, fists curling in anger, she hadn’t even thought of that, all the teachers that coached the hurling were Pilties - even the ones forced the coach the Zaunite kids, only then they didn’t have a choice but to play Zaunites, now, she’d be surprised if there were any in the starting panel at all.
“Fuckin’ Pilties” Vi grunted, kicking at the barstool nearest to her as her frustration bubbled over into a physical need to hit something.
“Hey take it to the bag if you’re gonna be aggressive” Vander scolded lightly, gesturing with his thumb out to the hallway.
Vi waved him off, heading in that direction, deciding to put her anger towards something productive.
Boxing was something Vi had picked up as a side sport, something to basically use as free therapy, since her parents passed she’s been angrier, Vander let her use the bag for the first time after she’d put her fist through her closet door, and she’d used it in times like that ever since. A bad grade, another suspension, a hard loss, Piltover being assholes, you name it, Vi was punching the bag.
The rhythm of the chain as the bag swung and swayed, the simplicity of hit and hit, bouncing easily on the balls of her feet, fists raised, sweat dripping off of the ends of her hair, down her neck and off her face. The way her chest heaved and her legs burned after a good session - it gave her a similar high to giving the perfect pass, performing the perfect block at the perfect time or better yet, sending the ball soaring over the net from the midfield line, a skill she had proudly honed with years of practice.
To her, hurling and boxing went hand in hand. The physicality, the precision, the technique - these were the things she really excelled in.
It made math redundant really.
Vi sauntered into the bathroom after class, eyeing Kiramman as she walked ahead, knowing she would double back with a sudden and crippling need to relieve herself. Vi was sure Medarda of all people would’ve caught on by now, but if she had she hadn’t said anything, at least not anything Kiramman had felt like mentioning.
The bathroom in this part of school was the quietest one, the hallway here didn’t have so many classes as offices, which made it ideal, especially now at the start of break, people were too busy bullying their way into the canteen to bother pissing.
That was a nightmare for the frantic 5 minutes before after lunch classes.
Vi leaned against the back wall, flicking the worn case of her headphones open and shut repeatedly, the snap of the case closing echoing through the empty room.
“Hey”
She looked up.
“Fancy seeing you here” Vi cooed, shoving her headphones back into her pants pocket and pushing herself off the wall in Kiramman’s direction.
Kiramman rolled her eyes playfully, biting at her lower lip as she stepped past Vi into the stall furthest from the door. Vi just huffed, following her into the cramped stall.
“You know you could’ve just texted me” Vi shrugged casually, dropping her bag off of her shoulder, Kiramman’s back was to her, closing the toilet lid and setting her school bag upon it.
Kiramman turned back to face her, her eyebrow raised ever so slightly.
“What’s the fun in that?” She hummed, flashing Vi a knowing smirk, revealing the gap between her front teeth - adorable.
This girl.
“Well in that case we-“ Vi began, just to be cut off by lips pressing against hers, Kiramman’s hands cradling her face.
Vi melted, her arms gently falling around Kiramman’s small frame, pulling her in as tightly as she could to her body. Vi’s hands slipped along the small of Kiramman’s back, as fingers danced through Vi’s own hair, scratching gently at her scalp.
They turned so Vi’s back was against the stall’s wall, her hands still toying with the fabric of Kiramman’s school skirt, Kiramman’s fingers were still tangled in Vi’s hair, twirling and pulling ever so slightly, but Vi noticed - Vi always noticed.
She’d never thought that Kiramman swung this way, she’d never really thought of Kiramman in that way before anyway but still, it had surprised her. Kiramman had always seemed suffocating type A, strait laced, straight A’s - straight, romantically. Of course she’d never heard any rumours about Kiramman getting with guys at parties, but she just figured she wouldn’t have heard those rumours anyway. She’d suspected Kiramman and Talis to be an item for a bit but Kiramman had been disgusted when Vi had told her that, he’s like a brother to her, Vi knew that now, of course.
It had definitely taken her a while to warm up to Kiramman, but now with Kiramman’s impossibly soft lips on hers, tinted with the flavour of aloe vera Vaseline, and Kiramman’s long fingers brushing through her hair, she was sufficiently warmed.
The same can’t be said for the Vi that showed up to the first school training of that year, bitter, and with one hell of a bone to pick.
Apparently the school had decided it would only be fair to conduct trials to decide who got on the panel of 25.
It was some sort of cruel joke making all 50 kids stay for hours after school, knowing damn well that the Piltie starting lineup would stay the same. They had no intention of changing the winning school team just because the team of Zaun kids got cut, the school’s management just didn’t want their heads on sticks.
Vi wrung her hands around the handle of her hurley as the coach talked through the trial process and the ‘selection’ process, they weren’t fooling anyone, yet all the Zaun kids had showed up, just itching for a change to hurl really.
For most kids in Zaun it was their only means of escape, Powder had her gadgets and Vi had her boxing, but a lot of other kids only had this and a shitty home-life, so any hours afterschool that could be spent avoiding that were welcomed.
Of course the whole starting lineup of the Piltie team made it and of the ten subs, 7 were Zaunites.
Vander had tried, countless angry phone calls to the school, Zaunite parents staged a protest at the earliest PTA meeting to no avail - Talis’ mother ruled that with an iron fist.
Somehow Vi made the team, though she doubted she’d be starting, doubted even less she’d get played much, she didn’t even know why she bothered showing up at all to training, maybe part of her didn’t want to feed into any stereotype about Zaun being slackers, that and she loved hurling and the club season was coming to an end hurling was still hurling even with Pilties on her team.
And maybe she had a point to prove, a desperation to prove to them that she was just as good, better even, than most of them.
“Right into the belly of the beast” Claggor grunted as the two of them walked side by side around the perimeter of the school pitch.
She could feel the stares from a mile away, as Claggor pushed open the gate with a slight creak the conversation by the dugout hushed and all eyes turned unashamedly to the small group of Zaunite students - herself, Claggor, Gert, Deckard (a prick but an alright corner forward), Zac, Freya and Remy.
People who were good enough to throw on and not worry about, kids they didn’t really have to train, Zac, Freya and Remy were a year older anyway and would be gone by the end of the year, to them this was a necessary evil, a means to an end, the rest of the Zaunites had to endure another two years of this bullshit - if they even made next years team.
Approaching the disgusted Piltover kids was when Kiramman first caught her eye in a way that wasn’t infuriating, it was odd, Kiramman glanced up once and continued lacing up her boots, as you would acknowledging the arrival of any one of your teammates.
In normal cases Vi would’ve rolled her eyes, viewed it as a dismissal, but in that moment she was grateful for it.
Grateful for the way Kiramman remained stoic as her teammates made snide comments that cause sniggers to ripple through the rest of the group. Grateful for the way Kiramman threw the Zaun kids sliotars when the Pilties tried to hog them during the warmup. Grateful for the way Kiramman treated them like they had just as equal a right to be there as the fucking Pilties.
She didn’t expect that from her, so naturally her gratitude was quickly replaced by confusion. Why would a Piltie be nice to Zaunites? Much less the Zaunites they’d been rivalling for ten years. It didn’t comply with the caricature of Kiramman Vi had in her head - and somehow that annoyed her.
Because of course it did.
They’d gone about three training sessions before they actually spoke.
The rain was spitting down, not in a way that was cold or anything, but in the way that droplets clung to everything and it felt wetted than it was because of it.
Vi’s legs were caked in mud from tackling and tripping and being tripped and pushed and pulled to the ground.
Even after three weeks some of the more childish Pilties still weren’t over having to share and it’s not like the coaches were interested in promoting peace and kumbaya.
Of the 20 there, the players were divided into teams of 10 and a practice game was played, of course all the Zaun kids were on one team with the poorer Piltover players. Vi and Kiramman had fallen into a quiet routine of frequently marking each other during these sessions, in complete silence of course.
Normally Vi would talk her ear of to get under her skin, but in training with her Vi realised nothing really did get under Kiramman’s skin, she was a machine, cold and calculating, like she was fully able to block everything else out but the ball and the goal, so Vi’s jabbering had only been wasting her own energy, a good tactic to remember for the club season.
The ball came down toward them, spinning off rain droplets and wet blades of grass as it spun towards them, Kiramman was on the move, Vi hot on her heels, with a subtle jump Kiramman caught the ball out of the air with perfect form, her right arm extended upwards, the bas of her hurley protecting the back of her exposed catching hand, left leg extended as she push off, tucking her right knee up towards her chest and bracing to land.
Vi was on her the second she did, standing directly in her path, all broad shoulder and swinging hurley, she stopped Kiramman from moving sure, but not from passing, Vi grunted as she did, zipping a near hand pass off to Talis.
Her legs powered her forward, her and Claggor in the full back position crowding Talis as he frantically tried to move backwards and forwards, side to side, his teammates screaming at him to pass.
In a final moment of desperation, Talis dropped the sliotar from his hand to meet his boot, kicking it, forward slightly to Kiramman, who dropped her hurley in a swinging motion, catching the sliotar and sending it soaring over the bar, she didn’t even need to catch it.
Vi didn’t have time to be impressed before Talis turned to the two of them smirk slapped on his stupid face.
“Good luck defending that” he scoffed, turning back to face towards the field.
“Not like you scored it” Vi grumbled, nudging Claggor as she rolled her eyes.
Talis spun back around sharply, shoving Vi so hard he sent her stumbling to the ground faster then her brain could process anything that had happened.
“What the fuck!?” Vi cried, feeling the cold mud soak into her shorts as she flicked thick layers of mud off of the hand she’d landed on, it tingled a little in pain, but she wasn’t gonna let that bother her now.
“Watch your mouth trencher” Talis sneered, turning to walk away once again, Vi wasn’t surprised that the coaches hadn’t said a word, they hadn’t even stopped play.
Claggor patted her on the shoulder, sighing to himself as the rain began to amplify, coming down in thick sheets. Vi scoffed, wiping her muddy hand down the soaked front of her red bib, Talis was the biggest dick she’d ever fucking met. He wasn’t even that good, just a bully with a strong puck, no ball handling skills, but he got away with it because he was Piltover’s ‘Golden Boy’ in all areas.
“Sorry about him” a shy voice offered
Vi looked up, too busy spiralling about how much of an ass Talis was to notice the gloved hand extended in front of her.
She followed the trail of the arm up to the most captivating eyes on the planet, Kiramman, ignoring the play, offering Vi her hand.
Vi thought to swat it away, and truth be told had any other Piltie tried this kumbaya, olive branch shit she might have smacked them into next week, but despite all her senses screaming at her to tell Kiramman to fuck off, she took her hand, and allowed herself be hauled to her feet.
“He’s awfully hot headed” Kiramman shrugged, tilting her head towards where Jayce was screaming at the midfielders for fumbling a pass.
Vi huffed, resuming her position by Kiramman’s side, the two of them silently watching as the play carried on.
What was with her, why was Kiramman like this, nice and quiet and polite, it was the polar opposite of the girl she’d imagined, a girl so much more like Talis, truthfully Vi hadn’t spoken to Kiramman much in their time on the field as enemies, even less so in their years at school together, but to think that she had been wrong this entire time.
Inconceivable.
Sure they exchanged banter on the field, Kiramman had her fair share of digs at Vi over the years, but this was different.
After a few minutes of turmoil Vi shifted on her feet.
“Thanks” she coughed, sniffling slightly, feeling Kiramman’s gaze burning into the side of her face.
“Don’t mention it” she said, smiling as Vi dared look over at her, gap tooth on display, eyes shining brightly.
Hook, line and sinker.
In the present day, Kiramman slowly pulled away, gripping Vi’s neck in her hands, studying her face as she so often did, her eyes constantly searching for something Vi was sure she didn’t have the answer for.
“What?” Vi asked, feeling her nerves bubble under Kiramman’s emasculating gaze.
“Nothing” Kiramman hummed, letting her head fall to rest against Vi’s forehead, so casually it made Vi’s chest churn slightly, as she pulled Kiramman in tighter, if that was even possible.
They stayed that way for what felt like hours, but when Kiramman eventually pulled away, this time taking the warmth of her touch with her, Vi realised it wasn’t long enough.
“Gotta go” Kiramman sighed, slipping the straps of her bag over her shoulders, she turned to look at Vi who was still staring at her, probably smiling like an idiot, because Kiramman grinned when their eyes met “I’ll probably see you tomorrow?”
Vi nodded, scratching at the back of her neck to play off the heat that burst across her cheeks.
“Yeah, you can count on that” Vi smirked, watching as Kiramman flattened her hair and pulled her skirt down slightly.
As the taller girls reach for the stall door, Vi couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss her again, Vis gruff hands cupping Kiramman’s slender face. Kiramman smiled into it, a hand finding Vi’s hip.
“Vi” she scolded lightly, Vi kept her eyes closed, the feeling of Kiramman’s breath so close sent shivers down her spine still, “I really have to go”
“Fine” Vi shrugged, raising her arms defensively “But you owe me”
Kiramman laughed, light and easy, scratching an itch Vi didn’t know existed in her brain.
“Put it on my tab” Kiramman scoffed, leaving Vi with a peck on the cheek, standing alone in the bathroom stall, grinning like a fool.
She really hoped the season of hurling would be fuck everything up.
She was beginning the think she liked Caitlyn a lot more than she’d intended to.