Chapter Text
Vi was looking at her. Again. Her head was slightly tilted to get a better view of Caitlyn, propped up against her fingers as she grinned at her. The strap of her jumper suit against a white dress shirt could be seen from her angle, and the rolled up sleeves exposed the length of her tattoos down her forearm. How convenient that they were facing each other this round, except with their opponents between them sitting back to back, too absorbed into the game and not at all aware of what was going on.
Caitlyn, also waiting for her own opponent to make a move, looked over his shoulder to meet Vi's gaze.
What? She mouthed out, frowning slightly.
Vi teasingly shrugged, making her moves as subtle as possible in hopes to not distract the player opposite her.
This is boring, Caitlyn registered after reading her lips, and then scoffing lightly. Vi never was one for patience. The player, (Marcus? Or was it Michael?) looked up at her and grumbled under his breath, shooting Caitlyn a death glare. She immediately recoiled back in sudden shock and shrunk in her seat.
It's not like they really needed to put up a challenge for the first few preliminary rounds of each tournament. The two of them have played more games than they could count, so dodging past surprise attacks took as much as crushing a leaf with the sole of a foot.
Without blinking, and with agonisingly slow movements in hopes to further aggravate him, she hooked his white knight in between her index and middle, replacing the square with her black queen, eerily close to his king. The second pawn laid at the corner, a silent dare for an escape.
A waiting game now, except she didn't have to do anything, knowing that there was no chance of his king to escape, but watch him slowly crumble, like all the other players who stubbornly refuse to concede. To give in to defeat and yield.
She didn't voice this out to anyone, always regarding humility over boastfulness, but hell was she in desperate need of a challenge. A challenge in the form of a brash, pink-haired tattooed dream sitting across from her. So close, yet so far. Caitlyn wasn't sure why she was so fond of this woman. She usually wouldn't read too much into a player outside of their games, but it was different with Vi. It felt almost unnerving, a hidden vulnerability she wanted to lay open to, uncontrolled by her senses.
She wasn't obsessed. Caitlyn was an accomplished and impassive player known for commendable strategy and ruthless attacks. Stooping as low as merely swooning over toned biceps and a charming swagger would perceive herself a laughing stock. But she can't help but feel slightly intrigued by this peculiar person.
She had known Vi since the early beginnings of her career. The undercity prodigy. It was as if she was an accidental splash of brightly coloured ink across a dull renaissance painting. A fresh sight in the world of chess. But she moves with intention. Everything she did was intentional, so calculated, and that is what makes Caitlyn so unbelievably weak in her-
The clock was slammed and the ticking noise stopped, jolting Caitlyn back to the present. Marcus (or Michael) stood up, offered her a reluctant nod of commendation and stalked off.
-
The next time Caitlyn saw her was before their final game.
Vi was leaning over a railing, elbows pressed against the varnished wood. She was wearing a fitted burgundy suit this time, finger fiddling with the small leather bounded watch on her wrist.
Caitlyn walked over the carpeted floors towards her, slow and cautious. Her straightened midnight blue hair was let loose, long enough to hang just slightly over her shoulders.
Sensing her coming close, Vi lifted her gaze and let it shamelessly fall over Caitlyn's approaching form. A smug grin flashed her way, as Caitlyn joined beside Vi to lean over the rails and view the regular hustle of the hotel during the peak period at mid-afternoon.
"Betting on a win again? I took the last one, just a reminder," Vi cut through the faded hotel lobby music and the distant sounds of crowds, the familiar husky undertone sending a wave of excitement through Caitlyn.
Caitlyn hummed. "I've decided to take on a more rational approach and play as if you're just like any other player here,"
Vi scoffed, and mimicked placing palm over her chest after having a bullet shot through. "Any other player? That hurts, cupcake."
Caitlyn softly chuckled in amusement. A butler approached them with two champagne-filled glasses balancing on a tray, asking if they wanted a refresher.
"No thank you," Both of them said at the same time, looking over at each other. She caught Vi's look of mild surprise.
She pretended not to be bothered by this too much. No, Caitlyn was going to use a much different approach this time.
“I just…thought it would be better to take it easy,” A vague expression hung on Vi’s face as she looked away, hoping to avoid the continued conversation.
Honestly speaking, she had no idea. She was trying to get back on track after… everything. She tried to pretend she couldn't feel the unfamiliar feeling of nerves building up in her gut. Since when was she ever nervous? She was still in her element wasn’t she? She can’t just… take it easy when this was all she had. She swallowed the resentment bubbling up.
Vi quickly pushed herself off the railing, gave a small finger salute and strided towards the playing area, ever her confident self. Caitlyn followed her movements as Vi adjusted the tie around her collar and smoothed out her blazer, greeting the other players with natural aura.
Caitlyn never bothered to care too much about image and relations among others. She worked best when she was alone anyway. She can’t help but feel a tiny bit of envy blooming in her soul whenever she saw how easy Vi made things look. Like a caged sparrow looking out at a phoenix soaring through the air.
-
Was winning ever that important? Sure, quick cash, again. But a Kiramman didn't need to attend run-down local competitions for that, stacks of old and costly antique possessions in their line of ancestry a testament to that.
So why are you so goddamn adamant to prove yourself? Would having a new shiny title change anything? You're stranded, Caitlyn. And it's clear that you rowed yourself out to the open sea, floating aimlessly in the shifting tides.
The stolen whiskey in her drawer never looked so tempting.
-
Their games always carried a unique flair, even to the modern chess world, where hundreds of world champions couldn’t beat the chemistry they had. They came to a silent acknowledgement of a competition. To any other player, that would've been an infuriating hindrance. A juicy rivalry sparked for journalists to scamper all over, exaggerated articles sure to be splashed all over the cover page of the daily chess news.
Vi was known for her aggressive plays, eyes as sharp as a hawk swooping across the 64 squares, never missing a single blunder. She was dangerous. But Caitlyn was known for her calm precision and consistent accuracy. A direct contrast. A strong counter to Vi’s force. Black and white.
There were many reasons for anyone to join the competitive championships. The attractive prize money, for one, was the most popular. Saying that she became a world class act because of a prissy undying passion would only earn her sneers and snide remarks. After all, who's got any other reason for living in a world where everyone is money hungry? Or maybe that's just her perception, she can't judge.
Known mononymously as 'Vi', with an infamous tattoo of her name on her cheek, Caitlyn didn't actually know much about this fellow player, she thought, as she stared at her with her chin propped against her palm, this time directly opposite her. No matter how much she tries to convince herself that she can read through the player like an x-ray, after all, they had only ever met during tournaments around the country. It felt like a bummer.
There was a small crowd of journalists and reporters with cameras flashing from time to time around them, waiting to capture their every slip.
Their well-trained stoic faces played an important role here.
She watched as Vi reeled her movements into complete focus, going through her usual customary. Caitlyn acquainted herself to it, but never dared to ask. As Vi took her seat, she adjusted the already meticulously placed pieces to face her at a certain angle. Closing her eyes and visibly swallowing, before opening them again with her signature of alluring gun-metal grey. It was a fierce charisma.
Caitlyn cleared her throat and sat up straighter, waiting for the game master to begin the clock. She would be playing black today, an obvious disadvantage. But if there's one thing she never would never lose, it was experience.
Their pieces moved across the board like a choreographed fight, each carrying a hint of their personality.
Back and forth of aggression, sacrifice, exchanges of dominance, receiving blows from each other.
Like they've done this for a thousand times. A game of war and strategy, but to them, it felt more like a waltz. An alluring dark beauty, well coordinated, constantly daring each other to take a bold step forward, to switch the lead.
That was when Caitlyn let out a small breath, pausing in her movements as she stared down intensely at the board, feeling slowly sifting out through her grasp.
To the untrained eye, she would've been seen as merely contemplating on her next power move. Fishing for an element of surprise to throw Vi off. The crease between her brows ever evident, but it was a look of concentration, not worry. Caitlyn never worries. She was steady and calm, the epitome of an anchored individual.
Except, maybe she was still just a human. Maybe she felt like she was completely losing her mind.
The erratic ticking of the clock grew louder and louder, and it started getting unbearable.
Tick.
Caitlyn took a shaky sip of water from her glass, trying her best not to show any hint of weakness, especially to the media. Never the media. Vi stared at Caitlyn's quivering fingers from the corner of her eye.
Tick.
Caitlyn knew when to concede defeat. She knew when her running from the attacking pieces would only lead to a faster deadp end. After all, there was only so much space for you to run.
Tick.
Why was she so distressed over this? She was used to losses, especially with Vi. She gently cupped her hands on her ear, the side not facing the prying cameras, a vile attempt in blocking out the sound of that darn clock. The white knight was clearly forcing her to move into retaliation, a few moves prior to which she did not see coming.
Maybe it was because having failed twice in a row was never a good sight to withstand. That or the fact that she would definitely not see the light of day after seeing her second blunder in a week on the cover page. An embarrassment, her mother would say, to be losing at such a… lowly feat.
Caitlyn ran her fingers through her hair and tugged at her scalp, anything to force her to regain back and she took a deep breath in and-
"I resign."
Her hand slowly stretched out, initiating a handshake with Vi. She licked her lips and gave a tight smile, not even flinching when the camera shutters went off in a frenzy, the room filled with blinding flashes.
Vi looked at her outstretched hand. And then looked back up. She raised an eyebrow.
Caitlyn remained still, looking at Vi bravely in the eye.
One, two, three beats later, and Vi sighed.
She relaxed her posture and took Caitlyn's hand in a firm grip, not shaking it. Just holding her there. It was gratifying. Caitlyn wasn't sure how long they stared into each other like that. She could almost pretend the game didn't happen, that she wasn't nearing the edge of a breakdown.
Instead, she felt a surge of comfort. Such tenderness long forgotten if she’d ever experienced.
Only after Vi broke her gaze and looked back down to the board did she snap out of her trance.
Vi chuckled. Caitlyn looked around them, finding the press scattered around the lobby now, butlers going around the other boards to reset the table and collect used cups.
When she faced Vi again, Vi was placing the pieces back to… their positions 5 moves before.
"Here," She waved Caitlyn's lost knight piece in the air and placed it down.
Vi looked up to her and smirked. She tugged at her sleeves and rolled her shoulders back.
"Let's try it again. You caught my rook here, but in your haste you trapped yourself…"
Caitlyn wasn't paying attention.
-
It was nearing the late evening, and Caitlyn was tired of lying in the haphazard mess of crumpled white sheets and linen that already smelt like stale bourbon.
Outside, the busy honking of traffic outside was loud and blaring. Warm sun rays filtering through her curtains made the room much stuffier than it already was. Caitlyn blew a piece of hair that got loose from her ponytail out of her face and hastily pushed herself out from the side of her bed, knocking over the chess board by the edge of the dresser and bruising her hip.
"Fuck," Caitlyn groaned, massaging her sore hip and looking down at the new mess of chipped ivory pieces. She let out a sigh, before leaning down and picking the pieces one by one with more force than required, cursing under her breath. Slamming the board back down, she made her way to the bathroom.
She stumbled into the shower, almost tripping over the floor towel. Running her fingers through her hair, she stared at her reflection in the mirror from the glass.
Caitlyn's hand slipped down down her face and groaned again exasperatedly. Great. So much for starting fresh. She looked exactly the same as she did a year ago. A dishevelled mess.
Her fingers flipped the tap on and cool water sprayed down on her head. She sighed and leaned her forehead on the cerulean tiled wall, thoughts weighing down too heavily in her head.
Was she even ready for this? Her previous few games proved otherwise. Everytime she made a stupid mistake, she ran. She blocked them, erased them from her memory and burned them into ashes. She never talked about it. She moved on.
But truth to be told, no matter how much she didn't want to admit, she remembers. Of course she remembers everything. The gears in her mind would never stop whirring when she closed her eyes, forcing herself to review, repeat and do better. Do better, try again. What else could she do? The cycle she had long set upon was obstinate and unending. The curve she was so ahead of distorting into a sphere. Until she’s back where she was again and again.
She shook her head and turned off the tap, staring out to the mirror through the fogging glass.
-
"And I told him, no mister, I'm merely juggling through 5 minimum wage jobs and a kink in my shoulder!"
A wave of cool air conditioning rushed in towards her direction as she pushed the glass doors open, an instant relief from the humidity outside.
The sounds of hearty laughter and clinking glasses and cutlery rung through the area. It was a small and cozy bar that Caitlyn decided was the best place for now. No complete silence to let her slip into dwelling too much on her own thoughts, but with just enough people preoccupied and busy enough to not notice her presence.
Her eyes scanned for an empty seat in a corner, with a view that faces the rest of the area.
"Hey, Caitlyn," Great. A slightly hoarse voice resounded, just loud enough for her to hear, stopping Caitlyn in her tracks and looking over, face mortifying into slight irritation. She faced the perpetrator.
"Yes, Vi?"
Vi flashed a dopey grin and slurred her words a little. Oh, she's never seen Vi drunk either.
"Come on, you're always so tense. Sit with us," Vi patted down on the plush velvet cushion seat next to her, eyebrows raising.
Caitlyn looked over to Vi's front and saw two other players waving casually to her. She recognised them from precious tournaments, but didn't quite remember their names. Maybe socialising again could do her some good. She could always just throw in the bathroom excuse and slip out of the premises should things go south.
Caitlyn reluctantly made her way to Vi's side and stiffly sat down. Vi waved for the waitress and ordered two more glasses of beer, Caitlyn taking notice of the multiple empty glasses and littered cigarette butts in the ashtray. A chess board lies in the middle of the mess, at what she could guess was a round of puzzles to solve.
Her attention on the board was quickly snapped off when one of the players started talking.
"I suppose you don't know our names? I'm Mylo, he's Claggor." The skinny fellow with a mop of messy brown hair, Mylo, pointed towards his accomplice wearing thick framed goggles. Caitlyn nodded and looked back down to the board.
“We’re just…here and there for now. Collecting the starters from our games since for obvious reasons, we have no chance of winning past three-” Ranting and garbling his voice at this point. He swirled the remains of the beer’s froth around the pint, while wildly gesturing with his other hand.
Okay, maybe not the best idea.
Caitlyn didn’t reply, prompting Mylo to continue. He leaned forward in drunken curiosity.
"Vi told us you aren't one to bother with getting to know people," Vi shot a glare at Mylo.
"I didn't say it wasn't a good thing!" Mylo raised his hands up in defence.
"Bishop to c5," Caitlyn nibbled on her lower lip, muttering softly. She nodded her head in silent approval when she double checked her move, and repeated again, "Bishop to c5." this time with more certainty laced in her voice.
Mylo and Claggor blinked at the sudden change of topic before looking down at the board.
Silence.
Sensing that no one was going to make a move or say anything, Caitlyn lifted her arm to demonstrate, lithe fingers shifting and picking up each piece in quick succession.
Bishop takes bishop, king moves to f1, rook to f8. It comes naturally, her muscle memory swiftly manoeuvring her to bend the game into her favour.
Sure enough, the white king was now blocked, mercilessly left in despair, the bishop now almost taunting it from the front.
The two boys continued staring at the board, minds trying to play catch up with their eyes. Caitlyn looked over to Vi, coming face to face with a smile. A genuine, pure smile that was quickly replaced with a small smirk after shooting the boys a quick glance, still finding them stock-still in their position. Caitlyn's lips parted in wavering hesitation, caught off guard by the sudden change in demeanour.
The waitress came back with a pint of her beer, and Caitlyn hastily picked it up and brought it close to her lips with wavering hands. She downed half of it in one go, trying to drown out the sounds of her irregular heartbeat and cool off the rising blush.
Slowly, Vi leaned down beside Caitlyn's ear and whispered.
"I wasn’t expecting anything less from you,” It came out slow and sultry, and Caitlyn's breath hitched.
Her poker face remained, turning to her side to examine Vi’s face up close. Her nose and cheeks were dotted with freckles, pink hair falling across her face to partially obscure her right eye. A scar at her eyebrow, and another across her lip. Caitlyn frowned.
“I would prefer if you kept those expectations to yourself,” Caitlyn’s voice coming out softer than she intended to, almost a murmur.
She didn’t know what overcame her to reach out and brush those fallen strands of pink hair out of Vi’s face. Probably the alcohol. Or her hidden eagerness to be as close as possible to Vi, the craving to feel that form of reassurance again.
Vi’s lips parted. Her eyes trailed down Caitlyn’s face and locked at her lips. The room felt warmer now, their bodies so close they were almost touching. Caitlyn caught herself and downed the rest of the beer. Vi shook her head. Both of them stared back at Mylo and Claggor, finding them almost completely knocked out, now laughing with their eyes closed. Vi audibly groaned.
Caitlyn pulled away. “I should retire earlier tonight. I-I’ve got a long way back home tomorrow,” She gave Vi a wry smile and regained her footing, trying to ignore the hyper awareness of piercing eyes burning through her back.
Before she could get past 5 steps she turned around again, “Oh- uh,” Vi looked up at her expectantly, those grey eyes carrying a newfound look of- endearment?
“Will I be seeing you again? After Piltover?” Caitlyn was hesitant, not wanting to overstep after all of that.
Vi looked stunned for a moment, before letting out a breathless laughter and nodded. “Of course I would, wouldn’t miss your glorious redemption for the world, right cupcake?”
Caitlyn chanced one more glance back at the table, before swiftly pushing the door open and plunging into the sensation of the cold night air nipping at her skin.