Unraveling Threads
The days passed quickly after your encounter with Jinx and Vi. School felt more like a blur than ever, with new faces and new expectations constantly bombarding you. But home—home was where the real chaos happened.
You were just unlocking the front door when you heard Isha’s voice shouting from the living room.
“Y/N, I’m home!” she yelled as she darted toward you, her backpack bouncing on her back.
You smiled as she rushed to hug you, the weight of your own backpack somehow feeling lighter when you saw her beaming face. “Hey, squirt. How was your day?”
“Good! We got to draw today! And I told everyone about my new best friend!” she announced, dragging you inside.
You raised an eyebrow. “Best friend? Who’s that?”
“Her name is Emily,” she said, pulling you toward the kitchen. “She has really cool shoes, and she says we can have a playdate this weekend.”
“Sounds like fun,” you said, grateful for the small bits of joy in Isha’s world.
But the warm feeling didn’t last. The second you stepped into the living room, you saw your mom, sprawled across the couch with a drink in hand, staring blankly at the TV. She didn’t acknowledge you at first, her eyes glued to whatever was playing on the screen. It was the same every day.
You sighed, walking over to the kitchen counter and setting down your bag. “Hey, Mom, you good?”
Your mom gave a slight wave, not looking away from the TV. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just… tired.”
You bit your lip, frustrated but trying not to show it. You had heard this same excuse a million times before. Your mom wasn’t a bad person—at least not in the way people talked about bad parents—but the truth was that she had been distant for as long as you could remember. She was often absent, emotionally and physically, leaving you to be the one who kept things together for you and Isha.
“What’s for dinner?” you asked, glancing around the room. It was a mess, but you had grown used to it.
“I dunno,” she muttered, her attention still fixed on the TV. “You figure it out.”
You held back a sigh. “Right. I’ll make something.”
“Thanks, Y/N,” Isha said, grabbing a snack from the counter before running off to her room.
You started rummaging through the cabinets for something simple to cook, the sound of your mom’s disinterested humming the only background noise. It wasn’t that she didn’t care—it was just that she never seemed to have the energy to show it. You couldn’t blame her entirely. Life had been hard for her, especially after your dad left when you were a kid. But it didn’t make the silence at home any easier to bear.
The loneliness was suffocating, even with Isha to keep you grounded.
As you cooked, your mind wandered back to the chaos of school, where things felt just as unsettled but somehow a little more… hopeful. Jinx’s energy had been refreshing, almost like a whirlwind that was impossible to ignore. And Caitlyn—Caitlyn had been kind, more so than you expected from someone with such a strong presence. But the whole school was an enigma, and you were starting to feel more and more like an outsider looking in.
You set the simple dinner on the table, but before you could sit down, the door opened again.
Your mom looked up from her spot on the couch. “Oh, it’s your aunt. She’s gonna stop by for a bit.”
Your aunt had been a part of your life off and on for years. She was the one person who checked in on you and Isha when things got tough. You had mixed feelings about her. She was a little overbearing and loved to offer unsolicited advice, but she was the only one who seemed to care.
“Great,” you muttered.
Your mom didn’t respond. You had stopped expecting her to.
Later that Evening
Your aunt arrived just as dinner was winding down. She was a sharp contrast to your mom—organized, loud, and very much in control of every situation. She sat down at the table, eyeing your modest meal.
“You really should make something better for Isha, Y/N,” your aunt remarked, always the critic. “She’s growing up too fast. She needs good food.”
You bit your tongue. “I made what I could.”
“Whatever. It’s fine. I’m just saying.”
You wanted to argue, but what was the point? Instead, you just nodded and tried to swallow down the frustration that bubbled up in your chest.
As Isha excused herself to go to her room, your aunt leaned in. “You doing okay? You’ve been looking a little… stressed lately.”
You shrugged, unsure of how to answer. “It’s fine.”
“Don’t give me that. I know things haven’t been great at home.”
You didn’t respond. It wasn’t that you didn’t want help; it was that you weren’t sure what kind of help you needed anymore.
“Your mom’s just… lost, Y/N,” your aunt continued, her voice softening. “But I’m here for you. If you ever need to talk or get away for a bit, you know where to find me.”
You nodded, though you didn’t feel much better.
Nightfall
Later that night, after Isha was tucked into bed and the house was quiet again, you stood by the window, looking out at the street. You thought about the events of the day—the strange and confusing moments with Jinx and Vi, the kindness from Caitlyn, the tension with your mom.
Piltover felt so distant, like a world you couldn’t quite reach. But as the stars twinkled overhead, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to change, something big. You weren’t sure if it was for better or worse, but you knew you couldn’t stay where you were forever.