Chapter Text
Standing under the arch, Vi pulls her hood over her head, trying to keep herself as parallel with it as possible. The rain poured, splattering across the concrete harshly. The rain dulled the sky with its grey storm clouds, and the sound of it filled the air. She took a breath, and the scent of the rainwater filled her nostrils. She didn’t know how much longer she was going to have to wait for Mylo to come pick her up.
She had stayed after school to help with some school clean-up to get volunteer hours. Sure, it’d only given her about two or three hours, but it was worth trying to get as many as she could. Vi knew that she wasn’t accepted here; that she had to earn her spot in this area. Piltover Academy was one of the most prestigious in the state–hell, maybe even in the country. It was a tough school to get into. Luckily for Vi, living in Zaun and having good grades at a poor high school gave her the opportunity to just barely get in. Of course, she didn’t get any of the fancy privileges, like a free lunch, or a dorm room.
She grips her bag strap tightly, wishing that Mylo would hurry the hell up! Vi didn’t want to get sick within the first few weeks of school! She tightens her grip on the strap, goosebumps forming along her forearms. She can feel the cold spread throughout her body each time she yawns or blinks.
“You’re in the program, aren’t you?”
A euphonic voice suddenly speaking forces Vi to turn around, where she is met with bright blue eyes full of curiosity. She held a black umbrella over her head, and a clean backpack with straps over both shoulders. Dark blue hair cradled her face, which had well defined cheekbones and a slender nose. Those blue eyes– so blue , Vi thought to herself– they focused in on Vi. She felt like this stranger was just staring straight into her soul, picking her up like a book, flipping through the pages.
Vi huffed. “Yeah, I am. What about it?” The stranger girl was talking about the “lucky” Piltover-for-Zaun program. They chose a handful of kids from each Zaun school district and placed them into schools scattered around Piltover. Fortunately for Vi and her younger sister Powder, they got one of the best districts. Powder attended the Piltover Preparatory Academy, while Vi attended Piltover Academy.
The stranger looks a little hurt, but then her eyes refocus and latch onto Vi, her eyebrows meeting in the middle. “It would benefit you to demonstrate a bit more respect,” she spoke again, her voice a bit high, but clear. She had a bit of an accent and she spoke with words that Vi wouldn’t have even known of.
“Why would I do that?” Vi countered, turning on her heels to face her whole chest towards this stranger despite the rain. She tried to not make it obvious that the rain was definitely bothering her. “I don’t even know you.”
“Why!” the blue-eyed girl scoffed, and her accent became thicker as she spoke, “as the representation of the Kiramman House body in Piltover Academy I will not–”
“Can it, blueberry head,” Vi cuts her off, and the girl's face starts getting red in the cheeks. “I’m not here for your life story.” She looks away from her face, towards the dark streetlamp and the empty parking lot. Still no Mylo. Was he even coming? The dread in her stomach began to grow a little by the second.
Obviously frustrated, the girl grabs Vi by the arm and yanks her forward. She exclaims as she’s suddenly brought under this girl’s umbrella, right in front of her face. Their foreheads almost touch, and they make eye contact. Grey eyes looking into blue, the tension in the air was sharp, almost like a knife. The air around them was filled with the sounds of each other’s breathing and the pattering of rain, which neither of them seemed to notice. They were too caught up in each other’s eyes to care.
“Look, I’m not a ‘blueberry head’ or someone you should just disregard,” the girl spoke, almost like a snarl, with such hostility, “I'm Caitlyn Kiramman. I’m in your biology class and your math class. I’m going to make sure that you know me.”
“Is that a threat, blueberry head?” The corner of Vi’s lip tugs into a smirk, and she can’t help but play with the tension. The grip that the girl had on her arm tightened, and her brows furrowed more.
Honestly, this was the most “free” that Vi had felt in a while. A real interaction with someone that wasn’t in her family.
“Call me blueberry head one more time and I’ll-”
“You’ll what? Report me?” Vi taunts, daring to get closer to her. Their foreheads are–somehow– even closer than they were before, and she can feel Caitlyn’s breathing on her own lips.
“No! I’ll-” again, she’s cut off. Car tires screech as a clean black SUV pulls up under the streetlamp. The window rolls down and a woman calls from the car: “Caitlyn!”
They instantly disengage. Caitlyn lets go of Vi’s arm, and straightens herself up. She looks to the car, then back to Vi. She puts a hand to her chin. Determination sparks in those bright blue eyes. Vi has a feeling she isn’t going to enjoy this idea very much.
–
She was right.
Here Vi sat, on one of the several couches in one of the several living rooms in the Kirammans’ mansion. This place was fucking huge. It was like the size of the Last Drop– if you took it and multiplied its size by 100. Maybe even bigger. Vi's stomach twisted itself in knots. She felt extremely out of place. Compared to the mansion, she looked like a dirty rag-- covered in bandages, dirty clothes, ugly backpack. She felt like a moth in a house full of butterflies. Or well, in this case, a Zaunite in a house full of Pilties. Ironic.
Besides that- this girl was filthy rich.
This must be why Little Man gave them a tip about this place, and this area. They must all be incredibly rich, with trinkets they couldn't possibly need. Plus, the rich donating to the poor always looked good, didn't it? Vi stops herself from thinking too much about it and focus at the task, no, issue at hand. Being stuck in this fancy house. With a girl she just met.
Vi looked at Caitlyn, wondering what her deal was. She didn't act this posh or elegant when they were outside in the rain. Now, she sat here with her mother across the room, holding a cup of tea over a small glass saucer. They spoke in low, hushed voices, glancing back at Vi every now and then. They were very obviously talking about her. She assumed they were asking questions like: “what should we do with her?” or “how do we get her home?”
Or maybe: “What’s up with your hair?”
Yeah, that would do. What a great question to ask someone.
Vi stares at Caitlyn. Did she really just ask that? She brings her hand up to her head, pushing a strand of pink hair away from her forehead. “What do you mean?”
“Why do you wear it like that?”
“Caitlyn.” Mrs. Kiramman spoke. Caitlyn sipped her tea hastily, looking away in embarrassment. Her mother puts her own cup of tea down, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before reopening them. She looked at Vi with curiosity, hesitation, and a little bit of disgust mixed in there. It was a normal look that Vi got from the Piltover kids at school.
“I apologize for my daughter,” she said, with the same accent that Caitlyn had. Vi wondered where they were all from. “She’s trying to.. Make new friends.”
Vi found it hard to believe that this girl didn’t have any friends. She noticed, though, that Caitlyn looked a bit sad. Maybe this really was an attempt at friendship. It wasn’t the greatest attempt, sure, but it was.
“You said your name was Vi, correct?” Mrs. Kiramman asked. Vi nodded, heart racing. What if Vander was worried? What about Powder? Gosh. Fuck you, Mylo , Vi thought bitterly.
“Is there any way we can contact your parents?”
Vi’s heart drops. She shakes her head. “No ma’am, I’m sorry.”
Mrs. Kiramman offers a polite smile. “There’s no need to apologize.” The older woman takes a moment to think to herself before speaking again.
“Caitlyn, how about you take this lovely young girl up to your room and give her some clothes?” Mrs. Kiramman suggests, “she can sleep in the guest room.”
What a great idea.