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"Well," Jinx said, holding up a mirror to the back of Isha's head, "what do you think?"
Isha shrieked. She turned on her heel and wrapped Jinx in a suffocating hug. "I look just like you!"
"Nah," Jinx replied, ruffling Isha's still wet hair with one hand. Her fingers, like much of the bathroom's sink and the metal walls that surrounded it, were stained blue. "You look a million times better."
-
"I want to be just like you!"
And Jinx had let her, at least aesthetically. She'd helped dye her hair, painted her nails, and drawn clouds up and down Isha's arms. She couldn't have said no, not with the way the kid always looked as if she was about to burst with joy afterwards. There was so little to smile about in Zaun already. Why take that from her?
Because, she knew now, Isha might still be alive. Oh, Isha would have been miffed and frustrated with her, sure, but Jinx could have weathered a tantrum. She wasn't sure now how she'd make it to tomorrow, let alone a month from now or a year. Time had stopped. Jinx may have been standing in front of the same mirror where she'd clumsily helped Isha try and braid a few strands of what little hair she had together, but her heart was in the bottom of a river. It was beating so fast and hard now that it threatened to burst from her rib cage. That was what happened when one heart had to beat for three people.
Jinx hadn't been sure where else to take her. Zaun didn't really do cemeteries. That required land, and there was barely enough space for the living as it was. She supposed that she could have left Isha - at least what was left of her - on that field in Piltover, made her someone else's problem...
No. No, she wouldn't even entertain the thought.
And yet she couldn't deny how tempting the thought was. How thrilling the idea was to try and leave her pain behind. But she knew, rationally, that once the smoke of rage and grief cleared, that she never would have forgiven herself for that.
Instead, she'd taken Isha back to the place everyone she loved always seemed to end up. Her mouth had felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls, so she'd released Isha's limp form wordlessly into the water.
She'd only screamed once she'd made it home.
When she had been a kid, only a few years younger than Isha herself, Vander had told her to look on the bright side of things, no matter what life threw at her.
"You might have to look hard for it, but you can always find light in Zaun."
He'd had to say it a few times, as if hoping that if Jinx heard it enough that she might finally engrave it on her heart. But she'd known that he was full of shit then and sure as hell knew it now.
Bright side? What fucking bright side? It was a cold comfort knowing that at least now Silco wasn't alone. He and Isha could hold each other close as fish chomped on their bones. They could keep each other warm until Jinx finally joined them beneath the water's cold, dark depths.
Jinx wasn't sure when that would be. But knowing her perpetual state of bad luck, they were going to be waiting a damn long time.
She should have nipped Isha's adoration in the bud, should have been smart enough to realize that looking like Jinx wouldn't have been enough for her. She should have known that Isha would jinx herself sooner or later.
Should have, should have, should have!
Jinx sighed, giving herself one last glance in the mirror. She didn't really think about what she did next; it wasn't as if there was anything to think about. Jinx certainly didn't hesitate. She just fished out a pocketknife from her pants and in two quick motions dropped almost twenty years worth of hair onto the grimy tiled floor beneath her.
"Hey, Isha," she said, rubbing at the sides of her burning eyes. "Now, I look just like you."