Chapter Text

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Before You Dive In, Some Real Talk

• This is a first person perspective from the OC’s point of view, but occasionally shifts into other character perspectives too.
• Arcane and One Piece fans: expect some familiar faces and lore, but with twists. You don’t need to know Arcane or One Piece to enjoy this story. It stands on its own with world-building and explanations.
• If you’re familiar with either or both, cool! There’ll be lots of Easter eggs!
• This is a crossover AU, so canon rules get bent (and sometimes broken).
• Expect a blend of found family feels, trauma unpacking, tech vs. powers tension, and probably someone crying on a ship deck at 3am. (It might be you, it might be me, it might be one of the characters, who knows?)

I’ve been daydreaming this mashup for months, hope it feels as fun to read as it was to write.

Canon Tweaks & What You’re Getting Into

• This fic is set in a blended AU where Arcane lore exists inside the One Piece world, so shimmer = devil fruit–adjacent tech and Zaun’s collapse was kind of a hidden history thing.
• Enforcers are basically just marines and the people of Piltover are basically just the equivalent of World Nobles.
• It’s canon-adjacent, but not canon-obedient. That means timelines might bend, character dynamics might shift, and if you came here for strict accuracy…um, sorry?? (but if you're here for emotional damage and cross-universe chaos, then welcome aboard.)
• Shimmer exists. It’s volatile, experimental, and sometimes mistaken for a Devil Fruit mutation. Bad combo, especially when it’s in the ocean. Hextech exists. Piltover's relics have made their way into black market trade, and yes, Franky will want to take them apart.
• Bounty posters exist ofc and certain Arcane characters may or may not be on them. You’ll see.
• The Grand Line is weird, but you already knew that.

Trust the process. Sometimes the messy parts are where the magic happens. It’ll taste better when it hits…I hope?

Got thoughts? Screams? Theories?

Tell me! I love hearing what you think and who knows, maybe I’ll steal one of your ideas and run with it. I wanna make this fun for you guys too, not just a retelling of One Piece with Arcane paint slapped on.

Let’s make it weird, but let’s make it ours.

Chapter Text

I spluttered to life like a fish underwater, coughing and wheezing as a woman clutched me close to her chest, crying. 

Everything clicked into place after that.

The bright and blinding sky (or was that the ceiling?) differed from the dull color I was accustomed to when I gazed up at the sky.

The sky was a thousand shades of white and gold, spreading over it like a vast painting, making my head spin. 

(I wanted to look away, but the thought of doing that makes me scream.)

So I closed my eyes and forgot to reopen them for a very long time.

When I opened them again, the dull gray seeps into the frame and, among other things, the emptiness in the pit of my stomach. 

(The gold eyes that stare back at me and ask me if I want to live.

I say, “I’ve already lived long enough.”)

There was that familiar sense of dread I had become accustomed to, a deep ache that throbbed in my chest, a black pit full of nothingness.

It burned through my soul, eating away at me like the tides at the sand.

The gold eyes lingered, watching me, and their gaze burned through me.

A look of uncertainty, cold and calculating, almost judgmental.

(I knew, deep down, that it was all my fault. )

Then the world faded back in and the colors, the lights, the sounds had returned.

The roar of the ocean, the raging sound of gunfire and smoke, all of it came rushing back.

My heart beat in my chest, a reminder that I’m still alive, a reminder that while everyone around me is dying, I’m still living.

(I’m still beating while so many people I knew and loved were dying. )

My cries echoed into the woman’s arms and her hair fell like twilight, the dull azure reflecting the sea, reflecting my desire to fall from grace. 

“Hush, hush,” she tells me when my wounds shed through my tears, aching, “it’s okay, little one.” Her warm hands clutched me tight, shaking like a leaf on the edge of being blown away in a storm, her grip firm and gentle all the same.

(It’s not okay.

Nothing’s okay.)

“You’re warm, aren’t you?” I blink as she hushes my thoughts, pulling a blanket tightly around me until I feel safe and warm, spinning me around. “You’re here, right?” 

She clutched me tighter, pressing my head to her chest as the slight flutter of her dress reminded me of a butterfly, her voice smoothing over my skin like sandpaper with a gentle whisper of reassurance that had me squirming.

(I can hear her heartbeat, slow and steady, like the quiet countdown of something I can’t stop.)

The sound—so constant, so familiar—becomes an anchor in the chaos, her hands brushing back with a tenderness that’s almost familiar, playing a song that never stops.

(It’s an endless loop, a steady beat of a heart that doesn’t stop. )

“The world takes, always asking for more,” she prattles on with a conscience I can understand, the underlying fury notable in her tone, “but this…this is something they’ll never be able to take away from me.” Her smile softened as she caressed my cheek, the feeling making my heart melt.

“You are my treasure,” she says like a fact, “and I’m never letting you go.” 

(“Don't forget,” echoed the nightmare as the darkness crept in, ”that you did this.”

“I know,” I whispered as my body trembled and collapsed as if the ground itself had pulled me under, “I’m sorry.”

Her gaze had sliced through the air, sharp and victorious, while her nails bled through my skin, I remember my screams clinging to me like my shadow, already fading before it could ever be heard.)

Her grip tightened when the door opened. 

A low creaking sound filled the air as a tall figure entered, his steps heavy and resounding while the shadows hid his face.

This woman—someone who I had barely known—protected me with her body, someone who had become an impenetrable wall between me and the storm of the outside world as I instinctively buried my face in the woman’s chest, seeking the comfort of her presence when she turned away.

She didn’t speak, but there was a quiet certainty in the way she positioned herself—back straight, eyes scanning the room, never wavering—glaring at the door.

(It reminded me of the sharp sting of her gaze, thick with words unsaid and apologies unspoken, lingering long after our first unpleasant encounter. )

The man paused briefly, sizing her up, before stepping forward, the air heavy with an undercurrent of something dangerous as his shadow filled the room.

“They’re waiting for you, ma’am,” came the words, clipped and unfeeling, as the woman shifted me against her chest and pressed a kiss to my head once more. 

“I’ll be back,” and she smiled at me like the sun had dimmed, a reminder that I was never supposed to exist in the first place.

I clutched her dress tighter, reluctant to let go, but her hands gripped my shoulders, steady and unwavering, as she kissed me once more.

“I love you,” she whispered, squeezing my hands as she stood up, “don’t ever forget that.” 

“Promise you’ll come back?” I muttered, holding on to her as she intertwined our pinkies together, “promise.”

She smiled, turning on her heel as the door slammed shut, leaving me with nothing, but the unrelenting nightmares that chased away the silence.

Chapter Text

He was as beautiful as the day I lost him.

(As beautiful as the day I was abandoned.)

He called to me in a way only a king would (how they’ve missed their king) , a wide smile that took my breath away (big as the ocean, Hito Hito no Mi), and eyes that screamed of greed (mine, mine, mine).

With a heart that leapt to the sky, taking off like a bird, soaring above the endless clouds, I could hear my heart beat in rhythm.

His whole nature, what he represented, it screamed freedom .

(The kind of freedom I yearned for.)

Because that’s what he was.

(What he used to be.)

What he would never be again.

The smile and the laugh faded, replaced with the expressionless look I’d come to know too well. 

(As did my sense of hope, slipping through the cracks of my hands.)

The rain had stopped an hour ago, but the mud still soaked my boots as I stared down at the graves. One of them didn’t have a name. Just a weather-worn stone, half swallowed by creeping moss and time. I knew which one it was. I didn’t need a name to remember. My hand hovered above it, fingers twitching like they wanted to touch something that wasn’t there. I crouched, mud seeping through my pants, cold and clinging with regret. The scent of wet earth filled my lungs, heavy and familiar as I sighed.

I hated how it felt like coming home.

“They said no body was found,” I mumbled, not expecting an answer, “but I know it’s you.” The silence pressed in. Only the occasional rustle of the wind, brushing back my hair like a mother’s hand across her children’s foreheads.

“I found him,” I continued, “or…he found me. It’s not the same, though. He’s not the same. He’s different.” I chuckled, low and bitter, “me too.” The sky was beginning to dark again, a dull gray swallowing what little light remained as something cold slid down my cheek.

“I used to believe I could fix,” I whispered, tracing the edge of the stone as the cold wrapped around me like the only thing I’ve ever known, hands trembling, “that if I tried hard enough, if I held on tight enough, I could bring him back. I could pretend he was still the same boy I met all those years ago, but you knew better, didn’t you? That’s why you kept me here, that’s what you told me, but here I am, back from the dead.”

I stood slowly, knees stiff from crouching too long, the ache familiar. I didn’t brush the mud away, too used to getting my hands dirty, “I just wanted to let you know, rest in peace, Father.” 

A gust of wind rushed past me, almost like a sigh as I closed my eyes, letting it pass through me. “Will I do the right thing?” I asked no one in particular and in the stillness that followed, only the rustling leaves dared to answer, whisper, ‘ that depends on who you are when the time comes.’

I shake my head, continuing down the path that would take me to him, “that didn’t answer my question.” Even if I wouldn’t recognize the man standing at the end of it.

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹───

My pen skitters across the page. 

I look up.

There, in the flash of the lightning streaking across the night sky, framed by the glass panels above my ceiling, is a pair of red eyes staring back at me. 

I blinked and the red eyes blinked back.

In the back of my head, I can hear a steady drumming in my ear that I can recognize as my heartbeat, but why doesn't it feel like my heart?

(It feels weird, restless, hollow.)

It doesn’t even feel alive.

The red eyes are replaced by a pair of blue eyes slowly blinking back at me, the feeling of familiarity and comfort as my cat jumps down, her tail gliding across the notebook as she sits, pawing my sleeve.

“Silly,” I laugh, burying my face in the white fur that reminds me of snow, “I’m trying to work.”

The cat purrs, nudging her head against my hand again and I sigh, leaning back against my chair to close my eyes. The world seems awake today as the storm rumbles outside, cracking with lightning and the pit-pat of rain hitting the window, but all it does is lull me to sleep. 

I listen to the soft hum of the fan as I close my eyes, relishing in the sound of the white noise drowning out my thoughts as I run my hand through my hair as I set my pen down, my cat hissing as she jumps up on my bed.

“Okay, okay,” I mutter, standing as I make my way to my bed, its frame arched high above the windows, offering a perfect, unobstructed view of the rain as the drops trail down the glass like silver threads, “I’m taking a break, see?”

She meows her agreement when I collapse against the bed, my cat tucked to my belly as I rock her back and forth, paws on my chest as she hisses. When I look up, the red eyes are staring down at me and all I could do is scream when a hand the size of a giant’s reaches back and pulls me in.

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹───

“Did you have fun?” The woman closed her book and my eyes were sullen, dark, nodding slowly. “What did I tell you?” 

“Don’t go on adventures,” I repeated back, slinking into the chair next to her as the fire warmed the whole room, instantly replaced by an illusion of the beach as she snapped her hands. 

Our feet waddled in the cold ocean, the sound of waves folding into the soft shore, rhythmic and loud, like a lullaby sung by the tide. The illusion was perfect—the warm sunlight brushing against our faces, the gulls crying out somewhere overhead, the distant hum of a world far kinder than the world we just left—I could’ve believed it was real, but even here, in this dream she’d spun from memory, magic, or both, was the salt that couldn’t wash away the weight I felt in my chest.

Her face was all scrunched up, not even sparing a glance when she opened her mouth. “Do you know what you did this time?”

“I messed with—”

“You messed with death!” She shouted, braiding her golden curls as unnatural fire flickered beneath her, hot and angry as the wielder. “No one messes with death.” 

“I know.” I buried my feet in the sand and stared at the horizon, “but I always come back.”

“One day, you won’t.” She stressed and the illusion wavered, the scene painting a deadly bloody red, cracks forming at the sides like a broken TV, as she inhaled slowly, piercing the illusion back together, “one day, you’ll realize you’re chasing something too far and that day is today because no one in their right mind messes with death.”

“Zen,” I reached out for her hand, but her fire flared, hot and sudden, as I jerked back instinctively, eyes widening with hurt when she shook her head.

“Look, I might like you, but you don’t come back from death, not completely. It leaves scars, you know? Not just physical, don’t pretend like I didn’t see your bruises that time,” she pauses to glare at him as I smile sheepishly, “but mentally too and whatever you’re chasing out there, it’s not life. It’s poison and you drink it like it’s the only thing keeping you alive. I don’t want that to happen to you, Yusir, not to anyone, not again, so when you meet death, don’t try to justify your foolish mistake. Trust me on this.”

“I didn’t-!”

She gets up and leaves without another world, the illusion fading until I’m left alone in the dim, dust-choked library I’ve slowly been rotting in. A temple of brilliance, they claim. A monument to knowing, they say. Claimed by the goddess of knowledge herself, or so the old stories say. The floating bookshelves drift lazily along the walls, casting shifting shadows across the marble floor. The books spin in slow, deliberate circles, their spine alive with gold and silver script that glimmers like stardust.

Before, it used to take my breath away. 

Now, it’s all just noise. 

A quiet kind, sure, but noise all the same. Once you’ve read it all—every story, every spell, every forgotten truth—once the words stop surprising you, when you’ve read every book once, twice, maybe a couple more, the magic of it starts to fade away.

Some books, I’ve realized, aren’t meant to be opened. They sit on the shelves, waiting for the fool brave enough—or desperate enough—to pull them down and in a way, I’m both. Desperate for something to wake me up and foolish enough to believe it still can.

But I know better.

The answers I’m searching for aren’t hidden in these pages anymore.

They never were.

The library knows it too.

“It wasn’t me!” I roared, slamming my fist onto the table with all the force I could muster as the wood stood perfectly still, not even breaking. No cracks, no splinter, nothing, just a dull ache in my hand as I screamed and flipped it over with a crash that echoed in the empty room.

Still nothing.

(Like always.)

“The perfect library ,” I mocked, bitter as I glared back at the rows of shining books, “more like the perfect prison.” I continued to make a mess of this place, tossing books aside, knocking over shelves, letting chaos spill like ink, but everything would be put into place no matter how much or how hard I damaged it.

Everything would be magically fixed.

Centuries ago, they cast a blessing on this place, a gift to those seeking knowledge. A promise that everything would remain flawless, untouched, forever. Nothing out of place. Not a single thing would break, not a single page would tear. A perfect, unyielding prison for the mind, if not the soul.

“Of course you’re too perfect.” I sneered as I ran my finger across my desk and watched in disappointment as it came up clean, no smudges, no stains, not even a single speck of dust to be found.

I hated it. 

I hated how the library could just fix itself in seconds without anyone having to lift a finger. 

You could trash this place to your heart’s content, you could throw the books, or burn them, but everything would just magically disappear, even the fire—the fire wouldn’t even start— it’d be like nothing even happened .

(“Everyone belongs somewhere, but you?” Their lips quirk into a smile, “you don’t belong anywhere .”)

“Damn it!” I roared, throwing a book at the bookshelf opposite of me. “Everything is so damn perfect,” I hissed, collapsing back down into my chair and rubbing the heels of my palms into my eyes, it was like living in a dollhouse, or a child’s room, where nothing truly belonged to you,  “everything, except me.”

(But then again, when did anything ever belong to me?)

The silence was so loud it echoed across the room when the faint rustling of books, soft and distant, made my head snap up. My eyes darted around as I peered through the cracks of my fingers, half-expecting someone to move or jump out of the shadows, I almost hoped they would as the book started shaking. The pages flipping rapidly by itself, the binding groaning under the strain, the purple spine curving unnaturally until everything came to a complete stop.

The book laid open as a chill ran down my spine, making the back of my neck stand up, it was unnatural. I shouldn’t even look at it let alone touch it, but my feet were already moving, my hands reaching towards the pages. With trembling hands, I picked it up, the smooth leather cover was just as flawless as the spines in the air, not a single dent in sight, but the contents were blank?

I blinked.

That wasn’t possible!

I flipped through every single page, nothing , words, letters, scratches, drawings, blank. I checked once, twice and one more time for good measure, just to be sure, but….nothing. There was absolutely nothing written in this book. 

How was it still a book if it was totally empty?

Why is it even here?

“Books hold words,” I stared at the empty pages in my hand, “that’s a book’s purpose, so why…” I flipped back to the first page and my jaw dropped.

The first page of the book wasn’t completely blank, rather, a couple of words were scribbled at the center of the paper, an ink that seemed to shift and glow like burning embers.

I knew…I knew how to read this!

Erim , the language of the gods, the ones that even the best of scholars struggled with to this day. It was an old language, so old that only a few people knew how to even speak it, let alone write, but I managed to learn it from the scattered, forgotten texts hidden in this very alone and of course, a reluctant teacher in the form of a presence I could never fully understand, but one I knew was always watching. My hands tightened into fists, biting my lips, but now wasn’t the time. 

I had history to read.

I reached out with careful hands, my fingers gently tracing the letters as my eyes scanned over unfamiliar characters, murmuring the syllables under my breath. There was a kind of magic to it, an undeniable pull, a sense of longing tugging at my chest, aching in ways I couldn’t explain. There was a relentless buzzing in the back of my head, urging me to move on. I knew, deep down, that there would be no stopping until I had finished, no turning back from whatever path this ancient language was pulling me down from.

“To the author…” I read aloud, a sense of foreboding slowly starting to creep in, but it wasn’t exactly unpleasant. It was intriguing and exciting. The words disappeared right after I read them, the buzzing in my head getting louder, stronger , until all I could hear was that pesky sound. 

“You must,” I continued with a tremble in my voice, ultimately regretting my decision, but I couldn’t stop. The more of the Erim language that I managed to read, the sound increased like a choir of a million buzzing bees all speaking at the same time, until I could hardly hear myself think. The words tumbled out of my mouth regardless, “bring them,” I stopped for a moment to catch my breath and the ink shimmered brightly.

“...back to life,” I mumbled as my eyes widened, “to the author, you must bring them all back to life.” A faint, burning heat spread through my fingertips, and as I touched the page, a sickly, rancid-sweet smell filled the air. It made my stomach turn, but at the same time, I couldn’t look away.

Something shifted within me—something deep and ancient. I didn’t understand it, but I knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that I had just made a deal.

Then in big, bright bold letters read the title of the treasure I thought I’d buried with my adventures.

₮ⱧɆ Ø₦Ɇ ₱łɆ₵Ɇ

Chapter Text

“Get back here!” I gasped, feet skittering across the cracked pavement, heart racing in my chest. “Stop them!”

“Watch it!” Kieran snapped beside me as he tugged my hand, smiling from ear to ear, “having fun?”

“No,” I whined, trying to catch my breath as he pulled me into a nearby alleyway, covering my mouth. 

“Are you sure you’re not gay?” A thick Russian accent spoke from above us as we jumped.

Kieran groaned. “Why do you keep asking me that?”

She jumped down from the rusted pipes that ran along the side of the building, her boots hitting the ground with a soft thud, “because you seem like it. I am not one to judge, for I too, am with the gays.”

I giggled and he sighed, “can we please just move on?”

“You’re just mad because you know it’s true,” I teased, barely able to hold back my laughter as Kieran shot me a look.

“Shut up,” he muttered, pushing past some crates, his hand falling from my mouth while the other still held a tight grip on my wrist, glaring at Zen, “and be more quiet next time, you could’ve got us caught.”

Zen’s accent thickened when she spoke again, her voice sharp yet casual, a strange mix of playfulness and danger in the air. “You’re too serious, Kieran,” she said, her eyes glinting as she kept pace with us, boots clicking onto the pavement. “Life’s too short for all this running around. You should relax a little.”

“I’d rather be cautious than careless.” Kieran’s grip on my wrist tightened, pulling me closer as Zen smirked, a mischievous gleam in her eyes when she stepped forward.

“Cautiousness is for the weak. You’ve got to embrace the chaos. Without it, you are nothing.” I felt a little tug of anxiety in my chest, but Zen’s words, despite her reckless nature, made me chuckle. There was an odd sort of carelessness when she spoke, like she knew how to handle the madness of the world with ease, even if it meant facing it head-on.

She tilted her slightly, looking at me with a wide smile, “what do you think, Yu? You agree with me, yes?” Her accent made the question sound almost playful, a stark contrast to the seriousness that Kieran had been radiating.

“I mean, I guess,” I shrugged, glancing over at Kieran who was still scanning the surroundings, “but I don’t think I’m really cut out for all of that.”

Zen chuckled, low and almost smoky. “Nonsense, it just takes time and practice. I can feel it. It’s in your blood, in your voice too,” she winked, a flash of something dangerous behind her playful tone, “you’re just not ready to admit it yet, but when you do, it will be liberating.”

Kieran rolled his eyes, but said nothing as we moved deeper into the alley, the tension rising again, the sharpness in Zen’s words lingering in the air. The flickering lights overhead cast long shadows, making it hard to tell where the alley ended. 

“You make it sound so easy,” I muttered and Zen glanced back over her shoulder, expression unreadable. Somewhere in the distance, the unmistakable sound of footsteps made us all freeze. 

“Life is easy if you stop overthinking it, Yuyu. Follow your instincts.” She made a slow and deliberate step back, shifting her feet as we followed her movements. “When you’ve survived as long as I have, you’ll learn that fighting your nature only makes things harder.”

Kieran glanced at her, clearly not buying it as he raised an eyebrow, “and how long do you think we’ll last with that kind of philosophy? Geez, you make it sound like you’re a hundred or something, life’s too short to get technical, we’re kids, get over it.”

“We stopped being kids when survival became more important than dreams,” I mumbled, kicking a rock onto the wall and watching it bounce around, the sound echoing as Kieran sighed. 

“Don’t think like that, you still have your sisters, remember?”

“Yeah, but they’re not kids anymore either. One of them won’t even look me in the eye, they hate me, so all I have,” I shrugged, gaze locked on the jagged rock that skipped across the cracked pavement, mind drifting through the haze of everything we’d lost, “is you guys now.”

“You love them,” Zen quietly commented, “but you just don’t know how to anymore.”

“We live under the same roof, but it feels like we’re on the opposite sides of a war. Sometimes, I wonder if they blame me.” I chuckle, “hell, sometimes I blame me.”

“Stop it.” Kieran narrowed his eyes, punching my shoulder as I winced, “don’t do that.”

“Do what?” I ask, rubbing my shoulder, trying to mask the sting with a shrug.

“Blame yourself.” He said, soft but firm, “you didn’t start any of this. You’re just trying to hold things together.”

I couldn’t meet his eyes. “Feels like I’m the one holding the pieces of something broken beyond repair,” I scoff, “but it’s okay. I can deal with it.”

Zen stepped forward, her gaze piercing in the quiet way she had. “You’re not the cause of the damage, but you’re the one who’s been picking up the pieces. That’s not something you can blame yourself for.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “you said it yourself, ‘all we have is each other,’ so don’t go fixing everything alone. You’ve got us and we’ve got you.” 

“Yeah,” I managed a smile when he dropped my wrist, “thanks, guys.” 

“Any time, kiddo.”

“We’re like the same age!”

“Still older,” he chuckled.

“No, you’re not! Get back here!”

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹───

“Does…” Powder blinked, mumbling softly, “Yuyu hate us?”

“He doesn’t hate you, that’s for sure,” Mylo scoffed, pushing past her from the shadows as Powder glared at him.

“Mylo,” Vi warned and sighed, turning to her sister, “it’s…complicated.” 

“He looks so angry, but when he’s with them, it’s….different.” Powder whispered, voice shaky, “and I don’t know what to do, I don’t how to feel about that, and…and I’m scared, Vi.” She clutched the edge of her shirt, her small hands trembling, “I don’t want him to hate us, I don’t want to lose him, but I just…I just can’t…”

“I know,” Vi patted her sister’s head. She could feel the ache in Powder’s words, the desperate need for reassurance, but nothing about this situation was simple. “It’s not that he hates you, Pow,” she began, trying to steady her voice as she adjusted the bag on her back, “but sometimes people…they get hurt and when people get hurt, they pull away. They don’t always know how to fix it or how to ask for help.”

Mylo crossed his arms, voice dripping with sarcasm as he spoke. “Right, because you’ve been so great at asking for help.” He rolled his eyes, ignoring Vi’s warning glance. Powder also shot him a look, but it was clear she wasn’t in the mood for a fight.

“I just want him to talk to me again,” she murmured, eyes darting to the ground, “I just want things to be like they were like before…all this.”

Vi exhaled slowly, reaching out to brush a few stray hairs from Powder’s face. “I know, sis, I know, but sometimes, we can’t just fix things by just wanting them to be different. We have to give people space, even when it hurts, and when the time’s right, we’ll be right there with him. We’ll fix this. Together.”

A long silence settled between as Mylo, sensing the weight of the moment, finally gave a small grunt and walked away with Claggor, but Vi stayed with Powder, her presence a steady reminder that despite everything, family was still something they had left.

“We’re all broken in some way,” Vi continued, smiling softly, “but that doesn’t mean we’re beyond repair. We just have to hold on, Powder, just a little longer, okay?’

Powder nodded slowly, a faint, uncertain smile tugging at her lips. “Okay…I’ll try.” Vi smiled, pulling her sister into a tight hug. It wasn’t perfect, but all they had was each other and that was enough for her.

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹───

“Oh,” I chuckled, hand on hips, “well, look what the cat dragged in, ladies,” I nodded to my sisters, “gents,” I glanced over to where Mylo’s eyes wandered and Claggor looked clearly uncomfortable, “what brings you here?”

Vi’s nose wrinkled, covering Powder’s eyes, when ladies giggled, walking past us., “I still can’t believe you work here.” Claggor’s cheeks flushed, eyes darting to the floor as Mylo continued to wander when Vi snapped her fingers in front of his face.

“Well, it’s not like any other place would hire me,” I hummed, sweeping the place up, “but you didn’t exactly answer me.” I leaned in, scowling when Powder flinched away. I slowly straightened, voice losing some of its edge, but still kept my eyes on them as I tossed the broom in my other hand. Vi didn’t meet my eyes immediately and instead, reached down and adjusted the strap on Powder’s vest, her fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

Finally, she sighed. “We need your help. It’s…complicated and we’re not sure who to trust.”

“Complicated?” I raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter, “that’s a bit of understatement, don’t you think? You know I’m not exactly in the business of favors,” my eyes glinted sharply as I glanced over to my left where a loud bang could be heard and everyone jumped, grimacing, “anymore, right?”

Mylo shifted his weight, looking like he was about to say something, but Claggor’s hesitant voice interrupted. “We’re just trying to figure out what to do next. Things are getting worse and—”

“Wait,” I held up a hand, cutting him off. “You’re telling me you want my help?” I let out a laugh, shaking my head and continuing to sweep the floor, “you’re really that desperate?” Vi’s jaw clenched and I could see the tension in her posture, fighting not to snap. Powder’s eyes widened in fear and I looked away.

“Don’t act like you don’t care,” Vi said, her voice lower now, the words sharper than I expected. “You’ve been through worse, you know what it feels like and yeah, we might not always see eye to eye, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

I held my cheek like it had stung before letting it fall away, chuckling bitterly with a shake of my head, “but you didn't do anything when that happened, did you?”

“He didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?” Everyone tensed as my knuckles tightened around the broom, “didn’t even stop him, didn’t say a word, didn’t even look at me when I needed you the most. You just stood like saving she...” my eyes narrowed at Powder, who hid herself into the crook of Vi's shirt as I sighed, “like her fear mattered more than I did.”

“He regrets it,” Vi whispered, “Vander didn’t mean…I’m sorry.”

I looked away, “you’re not the one that should be apologizing.”

Vi’s face tightened, her eyes narrowing, “that’s not fair—”

“Isn’t it?” I cut her off and continued sweeping, pretending like I had missed a spot—like I hadn't already swept it twice already—a spot that I swept across again and again, like I could erase something buried in there. “You didn’t care then and now? You suddenly need something. Funny how that works, huh?”

Claggor shifted his feet, clearly uncomfortable with the growing tension, “we’re not here to fight, okay? We just need—”

“I don’t want excuses,” I snapped, cutting him off before he could finish. “I just wanna know why. Why now? Why after all this time?” Vi opened her mouth, but I raised my hand, silencing her before she could speak. The weight in my chest wasn’t grief, it wasn’t forgiveness, it was betrayal, hurt , rusted and familiar, so I swallowed it down with silence. “You didn’t come to me when I needed you, you didn’t help me when everything crumbled away into dust, so don’t come here now acting like you’re some kind of hero.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and raw as I looked into their eyes—Vi’s, Mylo’s, Claggor’s, and even Powder’s—and for a second, I wished they’d yell. Scream. Fight back. Say something, but I could feel the weight of their stares, wanting me to break first before my hand dropped slowly, the broom falling to the floor.

“Fine,” I muttered, the anger in my chest simmered, replaced by something colder, “but if you’re asking for help, you’d better be ready to deal with the consequences.”

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹───

“Geez,” I whistled, leaning back against the couch as I looked around, just the same as it’s always been, “and I thought Mylo was the dumb one, rushing into things head first without a plan.”

“Hey!” Mylo growled, sitting up as Vi stopped him, glaring at me.

“Watch it!” Vi narrowed her eyes as I scoffed, looking away, “it’s my fault, okay? I dragged them into this, now I gotta get them out of this, so will you please stop being stubborn for once and just tell me how we’re going to fix this?”

“You don’t.”

“What?”

“You don’t get to fix this, okay? You, of all people, should’ve known what you were getting into when you stole from the Enforcers of all people, but you just had to take the risk, didn’t you?”

“So what?” She snarled, “you just expect us to sit here and do nothing?”

“I don’t expect you to do anything,” I sighed, standing up, “I’m going.”

“No!” Powder shouted and we all froze as she launched herself into my arms, “don’t go, Yuyu.” I sighed, running a hand through my hair as Powder held onto me like a lifeline. 

I didn’t want to be the one who made her cry. 

(Not again.)

When I looked around the room, everything still looked the same—the same couch, the same peeling paint, the same smell of dust and old memories—but nothing felt the same. We changed and no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t ignore it.

Mylo sat in silence for once, Claggor’s posture tense, brows furrowed, nails digging into his palm, drawing blood, and even Vi, despite the hard look she gave me, still looked at me with the same kind of fear that I remembered when I left, like they were still waiting for me to walk out again.

Maybe I didn’t want to anymore. 

I thought leaving would protect them, that if I left, they’d be safe, I’d be safe , but all I’d really done was push them away. The more I tried to protect them, the more I lost them. I remembered a time when things were simpler. When we were just a group of kids with big dreams and bigger hearts, when all we had to worry about was surviving on the streets, figuring out what our next meal would be. We laughed then, without a care of consequence, without constantly looking over our shoulders, but those days felt like a lifetime ago.

I wasn’t even sure if I’d recognize the person I’d become—or the people around me.

Powder’s small arms were still wrapped tightly around me, fingers digging into my jacket like she was afraid I might disappear the moment she let go. I could feel her trembling and my chest tightened as I glanced down at her. Her wide eyes were searching mine, desperately begging me not to leave again, “Yuyu, please,” she whispered, voice cracking. “Don’t go. We need you.”

They need me, the one who was always there to clean after all their messes, the one who stayed when they couldn’t sleep, the one who patched up Mylo’s cuts and held Vi back when the anger got the best of her. The one who protected Claggor’s back in a fight or when the weight of the world felt too heavy, grounding him when his quiet strength began to crack. The one who cradled Powder after every failure, whispering she was more than her mistakes, even when she didn’t believe it, not the boy who broke first, running away when everything fell apart. 

(Calloused fingers, usually steady, trembled when they shoved me back, eyes burning, jaw tight.

His voice, low and final, said everything I wished to take back as the red mark branded itself onto my cheek.)

I swallowed hard, the words sitting on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t bring myself to say them. How could I? I thought, how could I look her in the eyes and say that I was the one who failed her? That I was the one who thought walking away would somehow keep them safe when the only thing it did was tear us apart?

Vi’s voice broke through the silence. “You think running away is just going to fix anything? You think it’ll just make things better?” Her voice was harsh, but there was something softer underneath, a crack in her tough exterior that reminded me of how much we’d all been through.

I was there, picking up the pieces of Vi’s heart, trying to be strong for everyone, but falling apart when no one was looking. I was there when Mylo got hurt on a mission gone wrong, when his pride was more bruised than his body and he couldn’t look any of us in the eye. I was there when Claggor stopped smiling the way he used to, when the quiet crept into his voice and the light dimmed from his eyes. I was there when Powder’s inventions backfired, when her hands shook, eyes filled with tears she didn’t anyone to see. 

I was there. Every time. Until I wasn’t.

I walked away, thinking it would protect them. I thought if I wasn’t around, I could somehow keep the danger away, like I could somehow shield them from everything the world had turned us into, but all I had done was abandon them. I wasn’t there when Mylo’s bruises turned into scars. I wasn’t there when Claggor’s quiet became something more haunting. I wasn’t there to pick up the pieces of Powder’s broken creations or to see the way she hid her pain behind that stubborn smile. I wasn’t there when Vi’s fury grew sharper, when her anger became her only way to survive. I thought walking away would spare them, but in the end, I was the one who had left them exposed.

“You don’t need me,” my smile cracked, the words falling out brittle and broken, “not anymore.”

Vi's eyes flickered, her jaw tight, but she didn’t say anything as Mylo shifted uncomfortably, his hands twitching like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know how. Claggor, who had barely spoken since we’d all gathered, just stared at me with a look I couldn’t quite read as Powder whispered, voice small, but full of something raw. “I need you.”

I took a shaky breath, trying to hold myself together. “I’m not who I was before. I’ve done things… things I can’t take back.”

“And you think we haven’t?” Vi spoke up quietly. “You think we’re still those kids playing hero in the alleys? Wake up, Yuyu. None of us came out clean, but we’re still here. We’re still trying.”

“You think I don’t know that?” I shot back. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Start by not leaving,” Mylo scoffed, his voice sharper than before. “Start with that.” I flinched at the way he said them, like he didn’t believe I could, like he’d already braced himself for the disappointment.

“Mylo—” I started, but he held up a hand, shaking his head.

“No,” he said, standing now, pacing a few steps away. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to come back in here all torn up and sorry and think that’s enough. We waited, Yuyu. For weeks. Months. We thought maybe you’d show up, maybe you were just trying to figure things out.” His voice cracked, fury giving way to something rawer, “but you didn’t. You just left. ”

“Mylo, that’s not fair,” Powder said, wiping her eyes, but he didn’t stop.

“You left and Vi held it together. Barely. Claggor stopped talking to anyone for a while and Powder—” he hesitated, shooting a glance at her. “Powder cried herself to sleep for a week straight. You think we just moved on? You think we didn’t miss you?”

“I didn’t know,” I whispered. “I thought it’d be easier for everyone if I was gone.”

“Yeah? Well, it wasn’t.” Mylo snapped. “It was hell.”

His words hit harder than I expected because they weren’t coated in anger anymore. They were coated in grief. All of it—the pain, the betrayal, the confusion—all of it had festered in the silence I left behind.

And still, they were all here.

“I didn’t come back to ask you to forgive me,” I said finally, my voice steadier now. “I came back because you asked for my help.” Mylo didn’t look at me at first. He stared at the ground, jaw tight, before he finally sighed and sank back onto the couch. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t leave either.

That was something.

“You think we don’t know why you ran? Why you left?” Vi snapped, “we could’ve helped you!”

Her voice echoed off the crumbling walls, bouncing between memory and blame. I met her eyes, and there it was again—that same anger I’d seen the day I left. Only now, I realized it wasn’t just rage.

It was pain.

“I didn’t want you to carry my mistakes,” I said, quieter now. “I thought if I took the fall, if I disappeared, you’d be spared the worst of it.”

“You don’t get to decide that for us,” she hissed. “We were in it with you. We chose this life, all of us, but you," she glared, “you didn’t trust us enough to let us fight with you. You made us weak by thinking we were better off without you!”

Claggor stood up and moved toward the window, arms crossed, watching the streets below. After a beat, he spoke without turning around. “She’s right,” he said. “You didn’t just walk away from a bad choice, you walked away from us.”

I swallowed hard, nodding slowly. “I know.”

“No,” Vi continued, voice trembling now, “I don’t think you do. We needed you and when everything fell apart, you were the first one to run.”

“I was scared.” The words fell out before I could stop them. “I was scared of what I’d become. Of what we were turning into. I thought if I stayed, I’d drag you all down with me. I thought if I disappeared, maybe you’d still have a chance at something better, but all I did was leave you to carry the weight alone. I’m sorry.”

Vi’s expression cracked slightly, like the edge of a dam beginning to give way. “You think I wasn’t? You think I didn’t wake up every damn day wondering if I was turning into something worse? If I’d become just another thug with blood on my hands?” She stepped closer, jabbing a finger into my chest, not hard, but enough to make me feel it. “I stayed. Even when it broke me, even when it hurt, because we don’t get to run, Yuko. Not in this life.”

“I know,” I said, voice hoarse. “I know that now.”

Vi’s shoulders rose with a shaky breath, and she looked away like she couldn’t hold my gaze anymore. “You left us in the dark,” she said quietly, “and I hated you for it. Still do, sometimes.”

I nodded. “You should.”

“I don’t want to,” she said, and this time her voice cracked for real, “but I can’t keep pretending like we didn’t fall apart the second you walked out that door.”

“I don’t expect things to go back to the way they were. I don’t even know if they should, but I’m here now,” I said quietly, my voice steadier than I felt, “and I’m not leaving again.” Vi looked at me for a long moment. The silence was deafening, not even Powder dared to breathe too loudly. Then, finally, Vi let out a low sigh and turned toward the others.

“What do you think?” she asked and the weight of her words hung in the air like a trial.

Claggor rubbed the dried blood on his palm. “He never stopped being one of us,” he said simply.

Powder nodded, tear-streaked, but hopeful. “He came back.”

All eyes turned to Mylo.

He rolled his eyes, arms crossed, but there was no venom in his voice. “One screw-up doesn’t cancel out a lifetime of dragging my sorry ass out of trouble.”

 “Alright.” Vi stared at me again. “One shot, Yuyu. That’s all you get.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “One’s all I need.”

She extended her hand—calloused, bruised, and trembling. 

I took it without hesitation.

The past was still there, jagged and unhealed, but maybe, just maybe, we could fix this. 

Together.

Chapter Text

“Shut up!” I snap and the words explode out of me, too angry, too sharp. I don’t even recognize my own voice anymore as Powder freezes, hands fumbling with the makeshift contraption she’s holding as the screech of metal scraping against metal echoes in the room like nails on a chalkboard sending a jolt of irritation as I growl. 

“Why can’t you just listen for once?” My hands curl into fists, shut up, shut up, shut up, “it’s always a problem with you, isn’t it? Every time you mess with something, every time you think you can fix it, you just make it worse, okay? So just…just shut up.” She’s making it worse. 

My eyes narrow. I can’t breathe properly. The walls feel too close, the room too small. You’re losing control. Why can’t she just understand? Why can’t she just stop? Why can’t she shut up? What’s wrong with her? Can’t you see it? She’s too reckless. Too stupid. I step closer, the metal scraping growing louder, more unbearable. She looks at me, wide-eyed and confused as my fingers twitch at my sides, wanting to grab something, anything, to stop it.

“Yu-!”

“I said shut up!” I screamed, raising my hand without thinking, she’s always doing this. Always so loud, out of control, always making it worse, you can’t let her—then there’s a sickening sound of my hand connecting with her cheek.

She deserved that. There’s a pause, a moment where I don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore as her hand snaps to the side, body jerking back from the force as I gasp. Stop her. She’ll ruin everything . She stumbles, wide eyed as her hand moves to her cheek, fingers trembling. She’s afraid of you. It’s not safe. Not safe. Not safe. Not…

“I…I didn’t mean to—” My voice shakes, broken, but I don’t know who I’m talking to anymore as she continues to stare at me, open mouth and wide eyed, and I try to apologize, try to reach out, but everything is so loud. Everything is so loud and I…I can’t see her. I can’t—

“Why?” She breathes, her voice a soft, frightening rasp as her fingers continue to brush against her cheek, the redness already beginning to bloom as tears run down her face. “I didn’t…why would you hit me?” Powder stammers, lip trembling, taking a step back as her hand clutches onto the device, “what’s wrong with you?” 

The word hit harder than slap did as my eyes glistened. You don’t deserve to cry. “I’m sorry, Powder.”

She takes another step back and her voice cracks. “I just wanted to help…”

“I know,” I whisper as I stand there, chest tight, not knowing how to fix it, you already lost her, you lost everything , “I know, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry, Powder, don’t…don’t hate me…please?”

“I don’t…” she hesitates, “why?” I don’t know how to answer her. I don’t even know why I did it. It doesn’t make sense. I never meant to hurt her, but I did and the thought broke me.

“I was just…I was just frustrated, okay? You kept, well, you kept doing things, making these noises, ignoring me, and it felt like nothing was getting through and then you kept,” my hands shake and clench them into fists to stop them, “you just kept pushing and pushing and pushing.” I wanted to tell her that I never meant for it to get this far. That it’s not her fault. That it’s on me. But I can’t. I can’t say the words loud enough for her to believe me, for me to believe them, because I don’t even know why I did them.

She flinches at my words and I swallow when she pulls away, monster , “is it because I kept messing around with things? Is that it? I’m just…I’m not good at what I’m doing?” Her voice wavers, each word landing like a blow I can’t block, “that I’m just…not enough for you? For Vi? For anyone? Is that it?”

“No, no, no, Pow-Pow, of course not,” I say, but my words sound hollow, even to me. “You’re more than enough. I’m just…I’m scared, okay? Scared you’re gonna hurt yourself or someone else or that…that I won’t be able to protect you.”

“You hurt me,” and I flinch, running a hand through my hair. “You didn’t protect me. You hurt me.”

You hurt her. “I know.” 

“Why?”

“I…don’t know what’s wrong with me,” is what I settle on, voice barely audible. “I don’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. Believe me.” She looked down at the device in her hands again, the one I’d been so angry about and I could see her trying to process everything I just said as I closed my eyes. She’ll never forgive you. Shut up.

“I know,” she begins, “I just…I just wanted to help, I just wanted to be useful, but you hurt me.” She touched her cheek, kill her, and I stepped back like I’ve been burned.

“ I know.” I choke on the regret that floods me, “and I pushed you away, I hurt you, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…to make you feel like you weren’t enough.” For a moment, neither of us say anything. She hates you. She hates you. She hates you. No, she doesn’t. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

“SHUT UP!” I scream and then her eyes widen, covering her ears as she starts screaming too. Her breath comes in sharp, panicked gasps and the high-pitched frantic sound filled with terror and confusion grates on my ears as I hiss.

“Just shut up!” I try to reach for her, but she steps back, shaking her head violently as terror flashes across her face. She’s not listening to me anymore. She’s not even looking at me. You did this. She’ll never forgive you. It’s your fault. I pull at my hair as the screaming increases.

“Stop!” I yell again and everything is too much. It feels like my skull is going to crack open. I can’t think, I can’t focus, I can’t hear anything, but the noise. I can’t move. I can’t escape. I don’t know if I’m yelling at anyone anymore. It’s all just noise as her body shakes while she screams, her face a mask of fear, confusion, and something else. Something I can’t stand. Something I know is my fault.

“WHAT IS GOING HERE?” Vander roars as the door slams open and we both jump. Powder runs into his arms, screaming and crying as my hands tremble, it’s not a pretty sight. For once, everything is quiet as Vander whispers into Powder’s ear as she buries herself further in his arms.

“What did you do?”

He hates you. He knows it’s your fault . “Why do you think I did anything?”

He sighs as Powder whimpers and his face hardens, jaw tightening, before softening when he turns to Powder. She’s still crying, sobs racking through her body, and his expression falters as he pulls her close, something in my chest twists when he finally speaks with that same unnerving tone.

“Did you think this was the right way?” He asks, his eyes fixed on me, burning with a kind of anger that feels like a punch to the gut. “Did you think shouting at her, scaring her, was going to help? Was going to fix anything?” He doesn’t believe you. He thinks it’s your fault.  

“I didn’t mean to…” my voice cracked, barely above a whisper as he sighs, turning away and carrying Powder out of the room. She seems to settle a little in her arms, but her cries don’t stop as my heart breaks. When he walked out of the room, I finally understood what it meant to lose someone without them even leaving. 

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹───

“So that’s why I left,” I finished as I stared up at the ceiling, “well, that and other things, but they still want me back after everything and I…”

“Can you shut the fuck up? I’m trying to sleep.” Kieran mumbled, wrapping his arms around my neck as I chuckled, dark strands of hair sticking out in every direction as his usual tousled look seemed even wilder tonight with pieces of it curling at odd angles like they had their own ideas about how he should look.

He didn’t seem to care, though. 

He never did.

He always had this way of sounding grumpy, like everything around him was too much to handle, but when he wrapped his arms around my neck, pulling himself closer with the familiar weight, it was like he was still trying to find his place in the world as I ran a hand through his hair. 

“She’s not wrong, you know?”

“About what?” He sighed because he knew I wouldn’t shut up.

“You being gay.”

“Can we just go one night without you making it about that?” He grumbled, but there was no real heat behind it as I laughed, not backing down. 

“I mean, it’s not exactly a secret, is it?” I nudged him playfully and he just groaned again, too tired to argue properly, but still pretending like it bothered him.

“Whatever,” he muttered, eyes closing, “just let me sleep.”

I leaned back, still amused, but the words lingered in my mind. Even if he tried to brush it off, I knew he heard me and deep down, maybe I was just hoping he’d finally admit it himself, or maybe he just doesn’t like you .

“Good night,” I whispered to the empty air as he snorted loudly in response.

“Good night.”

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹───

“So,” I yawned, “what’s the plan?” 

Mylo rolled his eyes. “There isn’t one.”

I raised an eyebrow, confusion flickering across my face as I looked around the room, “What?”

“Vi left,” mumbled Powder and her absence hit me like a punch to the gut.

“She turned herself in?” Why would she do that? After everything that just happened? She said I had one shot and she goes ahead and does that? How is this making this right? It’s making me angry, that’s for sure. Shut up.

“Yeah,” Claggor mumbled and I swallowed, running my hand through my hair as I tried to keep it together. She’s gone. You fucked up. Shut. Up.

“Does he know?”

“Not yet,” Powder whispered and I sighed.

“Stay here. I’m going after her.”

“Wait,” Mylo called out and I looked back as he clicked his tongue, “not for too long.” Then looked away like he was trying to hide the concern in his eyes as I chuckled, nodding.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹───

“What the fuck were you thinking?” I hissed as her eyes widened. She doesn’t want you here. Shut up. Now is not the time.

“Me? What about you? Why are you here?”

“You think I wanna be here?” I growled and as soon as the words left my mouth, I saw the flicker of fear as I turned away, crossing my arms. Her eyes narrowed in a mixture of confusion and defiance as she crossed her arms. 

“Then why are you?” I didn’t answer her as I grabbed her by the arm, shoving her into the nearest room and locking her in with a sharp click . “What the hell?” She started, her voice rising with panic, as I turned to the sound of heavy boots echoing outside. The Enforcers were close. I could hear it. Every muscle in my body tightened as the pounding of their steps grew louder. 

I didn’t have much time.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I sat down, leg bouncing up and down. When the door slammed open, the group was walking straight for me, faces unreadable, masks of indifference as I stood up.

“You here for me?” 

The Commander glanced to her left and nodded.

“Yuyu!” Vi screamed, pounding on the door as their heads turned, “Yuko, don’t you fucking dare!” They didn’t seem satisfied as the guy narrowed his eyes, turning as I stepped in front of him. 

“Move aside,” he growled, hand resting casually on the hilt of his weapons as I sneered. My gaze met his, harsh and unyielding, “not a chance.” A beat of silence hung over us as we looked at each other before the Commander held her arm out.

“Stop.” She said, “you’re coming with us.”

“The girl lives,” I warned and she nodded curtly before dragging me out. The guard from before chuckled. 

“You’ll regret this.” 

Vi screamed.