Archive of Our Own

At the Firelights’ base, Jinx was welcome to come and go as she pleased, but nothing seemed to please her much these days. 

She spent most of her days hidden away in Ekko’s home, sleeping in odd intervals, and only occasionally leaving when everyone else was asleep. 

The first time Ekko had woken up in the small hours of the morning in his makeshift cot and looked up to find his bed empty and his jacket gone, he’d scrambled to find his board and was flying before he could have a chance to think about what he was going to do. He’d have left the base, too, if he hadn’t looked back at his own house and seen Jinx sitting atop his roof. She’d even waved at him, as if she hadn’t just scared him half to death.

“You’re gonna kill me one of these days,” he said, sitting down next to her. The corners of her mouth quirked upward.

“I never could,” was her reply.

They’d watched the sun rise that day, wrapped in silence that was less awkward than comforting. 

⧗

Ekko felt guilty. Guilty he’d spent so long trying to kill Jinx. Guilty that he’d failed. Guilty that he’d left her with nowhere else to go back to, after their war plan involved her hideout, her safe space, flying out of the fissures, never to return. Guilty that he’d brought her to the commune, knowing she’d killed some of theirs. Guilty he couldn’t give her more. Guilty that maybe he should’ve never given her this much. 

“Her name was Eve,” he said.

They were in front of the Firelights’ mural. Ekko had coaxed Jinx out of his room at a semi-respectable hour with the promise she could add Isha to their wall.

They’d spent a good few hours preparing, sketching and brainstorming. Jinx’s eyes were focused as she made sketch after sketch, but somehow she couldn’t find the perfect angle, the perfect lines. At one point, she’d kicked him out of his own bedroom and he hadn’t even put up a fight. He’d just gripped the railing outside in the balcony as hard as he could as he heard her sobs and wails.

When she’d calmed down, he’d found her lying in his bed, face down on the pillow, the doll she’d made in Isha’s likeness torn to pieces beside her. 

He’d managed to convince her to come outside anyway, promising that if she wasn’t satisfied with how her painting looked they would redo it over and over again until it was perfect.

“Hm?” She looked at him. Blue paint had somehow gotten right under her left eye.

Ekko pointed to Eve’s spot, under Vander. “Her.”

Jinx stepped back in their makeshift scaffolding and recognition flashed in her eyes. She averted her gaze quickly and went back to what she was doing. Ekko’s hand automatically reached for his Z-drive, and he cursed under his breath when he remembered he didn’t have it anymore.

They stayed in silence for a few moments, Ekko pretending he didn’t see her glancing at him, her bottom lip quivering. He was surprised when she spoke first.

“What was she like?”

Ekko shared. He hadn’t realized he needed it. He told her she was a dedicated Firelight, firm in their ideology. That she’d lost her mother to Shimmer. That she was a terrible prankster, but that it didn’t stop her from trying. That her brother was gutted when he found out she’d died.

Jinx just listened and nodded, her brush strokes careful as she painted Isha’s likeness under her child self’s face. She didn’t utter a word to him for the rest of the day, save for a murmured reply he didn’t quite catch when he wished her a good night.

She disappeared for three days after that.

For three days, Ekko didn’t sleep. Ekko barely ate. Ekko cursed himself, and Ekko buried himself in work. He avoided looking at the mural, Isha’s face unfinished. He couldn’t even meet her eyes.

On the third day, lying down in sheets that smelled like Jinx and that he couldn’t bring himself to change, Ekko heard his door creak open. He’d kept a light on, and the relief he felt when he saw blue in his peripheral vision made him want to sob.

“You’re safe!” His voice was muffled by her shoulder. When he’d gotten to his feet he couldn’t remember, but she was alive and their arms were wrapped tightly around each other and that was all that mattered. He untangled himself from her and cupped her tear-streaked  face in his hands, scanning for injury. Once satisfied, he looked into her reddened, puffy eyes. “I’m s–”

Her finger was shushing him before he could finish his sentence.

“ I’m sorry, Ekko,” she said hoarsely, and he knew she meant it. 

⧗

Not everyone was on board with bringing Jinx to their hideout. Ekko understood. He’d listened to everyone’s argument. She was a liability. Piltover might want to bring her to justice, and if Ekko refused, maybe they’d once again be less willing to negotiate with Zaun. They’d lost people to her. It was a betrayal to their memory.

His mind was made up. Maybe keeping her meant betraying his friends, but refusing her meant betraying their ideology of reformative justice, of criticizing the system and not its byproducts. She’d helped them that day in Piltover, fought alongside them like one of their own, and made sure they hadn’t lost anyone else. They had eventually come to a compromise during their meeting.

“I’m sorry,” he’d said to her that first night. She was to be locked inside a room at night and let out during the day, while everyone was awake. “This was their condition. I couldn’t refuse. They’ll eventually trust you.” 

When she didn’t reply, he’d continued, “I’ll come get you out first thing in the morning. Good night, Jinx.”

He’d woken up to a lit candle in his dresser. Thinking he’d probably forgotten to put it out, he’d gotten up to find Jinx sitting on his floor, hugging her knees. He couldn’t help clutching his chest, where his heart was hammering away.

“How did you get out?”

She’d ignored his question. “I couldn’t stand the darkness anymore,” she’d said, looking up at him, pink eyes glowing in the candlelight. “It makes it harder to tell what’s actually real.”

He’d let her stay in his room ever since. What’s another small betrayal, anyway?

⧗

Bathhouses weren’t uncommon in Zaun. Some people bathed at home, as had Ekko growing up—he’d had a washbasin next to his bed, and twice a week Benzo would bring a tin tub to his bedroom, fill it with hot water, and leave him alone with his toys and soap, to play until the water was cold and his fingers pruny—, but lots of other people bathed in communal baths together after a grueling day of physical labor. 

In a commune, it was just more practical to have a shared bathhouse. Ekko never really got used to it. He’d made sure there were a few private showers, and when he wanted to soak his muscles, he waited until most people were asleep. 

He knew Jinx used the facilities—he’d walk into his room to the smell of soap and see her lying down in his bed, hair soaking wet. He’d even unknowingly showered in the stall next to hers, only to get jumpscared when she’d thrown her bar of soap at him over the wall that separated the stalls and heard her giggle at his yelp.

“You scared me,” he’d scolded her. “Can’t you read? The sign clearly says, ‘No funny business in the showers’.”

He’d heard her actual laugh for the first time in a long time, and any frustration he felt at such a basic rule being disrespected dissipated immediately. 

“You need to stop being so easy to scare,” she’d replied. “And it’s not funny, it’s kinda tragic.” 

He’d tsked, making sure to suppress a smile she wouldn’t even see in the first place.

Jinx had taken to wandering around the base at night, so when Ekko stopped by his room a few hours after midnight to go get a change of clothes, he didn’t think anything of it.

He showered with cold water. Because no one else except for him used the bathhouse at this hour, only one of the ovens they used to warm the water in the main bath area was kept lit. Showering in the cold was worth it when it gave him the illusion of a hotter bath when he stepped into the main pool.

He made his way into the main bath, shivering, only to find a shock of blue hair and blue tattoos against white tile. Ekko felt his face heat up, but before he could step back undetected, she was already looking back at him. She chuckled at his expression, and he thanked whatever entity could be looking down at them that he’d wrapped a towel around his legs and hadn’t just waltzed in butt-naked. 

“Scared you again?” asked Jinx. He noticed with relief she was also wrapped in a towel. He ignored her and walked in as casually as he could. “You need to chill out, Little Man.”

“Baths are usually empty at this hour. It’s the worst time to come here. The water’s almost cold,” he replied, lingering at the edge of the pool. He was hesitant to get in, and she could definitely tell.

“You shy?” She snorted. “Is it that little, man?” 

He splashed water on her with his foot. “I’m not the only one. How are you even gonna dry yourself if your towel is wet?”

“Air,” she replied matter-of-factly, as if he was stupid.

He sighed and stepped in, sitting down next to her at a respectable distance. He tried to relax. She maintained a veneer of nonchalance, but the way she worried at her lower lip betrayed her. Ironically, it relaxed him, knowing that.

“How are you?” Ekko asked. 

“Cold,” she said. 

“Not what I meant.”

“Then say what you mean.” 

He could practically hear the eye-roll, and chuckled. He looked at her to find she was already looking at him, her eyes narrowed and her smile mischievous. Before she had the opportunity, he brought his hand down into the water right in front of her as hard as he could and swam away, holding his towel in place with one hand.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, and followed him. 

They started slapping at each other and at the water, splashing it everywhere. He ran from her and she ran towards him until he was cornered. She dipped her fingers in water and shook them right in front of his face, spraying him with the droplets as if he were a naughty cat.

“Truce, truce!” He exclaimed, laughing. She kept going. His belly hurt from laughing so much. “Powder, stop!”

He realized his mistake when she actually stopped. He opened his eyes to find her own looking away from him. She slowly took a seat next to him, their knees touching, her shoulders sagged.

“Jinx, I’m sorry,” he said. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. “I—Yeah. Sorry.” 

Jinx took a few seconds to reply. “It’s…”

“It’s not okay,” he finished for her.

She smiled sadly, gazing at some undefined point in the distance. “I don’t know if it is.”

“What do you mean?”

She sighed deeply. “I—I just don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know anything right now.”

“We don’t have to talk about it. I’m sorry.”

She looked at him. He forced himself to hold her gaze. “I think I want to.”

His eyebrows quirked upward involuntarily. They’d been talking, but he’d been tiptoeing around her past since the day they’d talked about Eve. They hadn’t even mentioned Isha since he’d found Jinx fixing her doll. He nodded, urging her to go on.

“Silco and I, we killed Powder.” She looked away from him. “Well, I did. We said she fell down a well. Drowned, and I— Jinx was born.” Pause. “But I don’t—I don’t know if she did.” She chuckled, and then giggled nervously. “What’s in a name, right? Like—” she gestured wildly with her hands. “I don’t know how to explain it. Why should it matter? But it does. I don’t know if I feel like Jinx. But I definitely don’t feel like Powder.”

“You could… pick a new name?” Ekko tried to be helpful, but it sounded more like a question. 

Jinx’s eyes filled with tears and she shook her head. “But I can’t—I can’t have a name that she never got to know.” 

Once the sound of her sobs no longer filled the room, Ekko helped her out of the tub. He handed Jinx her clothes through the shower stall curtain and she waited for him as he got dressed too. He wrapped his jacket around her and guided her to their room with a hand on her back, and he didn’t say anything when she made space for him on the bed, just laid down next to her. 

⧗

Slowly, they developed a routine. They shared a bed, they shared a bath, they air-dried. She poked his ankle under the curtain if she finished dressing up before him. One day he managed to scare her by fully grabbing hers, and the kick she gave him in the nose was worth it. She was almost apologetic, too, which was nice.

Jinx ate with him in the mess hall, sitting the furthest away from everyone else and always leaving what would amount to one last bite on her plate, as if to annoy him on purpose. She shamelessly read his letters over his shoulder. She climbed the tree—he’d be walking out of his room and she’d drop down next to him, just to give him a heart attack. 

She still wandered at night. Once, on a full moon, Ekko even managed to sneak behind her as she admired new additions to the mural and put his hands over her eyes.

“Guess who?” He asked, beaming with pride.

“Three,” she replied.

“What?”

“Two.”

His eyes widened. By the time she got to one he’d already started running, repressing his laughter as much as he could so as to not wake the sleeping Firelights in their homes surrounding the tree. She threw an abandoned paintbrush at him, and she was still the best shot he’d ever met. 

⧗

Ekko woke up to a gun pointed right at his face. 

“Any last words, little guy?” 

Jinx. Pistol in her hand, a knee on his chest. Had he been stupid to trust her? Had he seriously let his guard down so much, had she been able to fool him once again? Had he been sharing his room, his bed, with an enemy?

“Jinx, please—”

She shot three times, thoroughly wetting his face with ice-cold water. He knew giving her a water pistol was a bad idea, but he thought it had been worth it when he walked into the main bath, one week prior, and surprised her with the gunfight of her life.

It was the second time she had woken him up like that, and he still didn’t have a plan on how to get back at her. He blindly reached for her hand, wrestling her for the pistol, but she had the advantage of not having literally just woken up, and soon he was in a chokehold, gun pointed at his head.

“You have a letter,” Jinx said. “Shame if you didn’t live long enough to read it.”

A letter? He patted her arm three times in silent defeat and she let him go. He attempted to swipe the pistol from her one last time, but she was quicker, and all it got him was a last spritz in the face. 

“It’s from Kathleen. Or whatever the fuck her name is,” Jinx said nonchalantly.

“Caitlyn?” He asked as she handed it to him. “How the hell did Caitlyn get a letter sent here?” 

His door, which he hadn’t realized wasn’t actually closed, creaked open slowly. A woman, casually leaning against his door sill like she owned the place, was looking at him with a smirk.

“Long time no see, Little Man.”

“Vi!” He exclaimed, smiling and rubbing his throat. Jinx took roughhousing to its roughest and Ekko, like the naïve idiot he’d always been, trusted her enough to like it. “Good to see you still remember how to get around down here. To what do I owe this visit?”

She rolled her eyes. “Y’know, when my sister told me you slept like a dead man, I didn’t think she would be so on point. Shame if you actually became one.”

“Wow, maybe Piltover hasn’t completely stolen your bite, since your bark is so intact.” Ekko got out of bed and walked towards her. When he wrapped his arms around her, Vi held him tightly. “It’s good to see you, Vi, you’re looking good.”

“Bleh, you guys done?” Ekko looked to see Jinx sticking her tongue out. “So much corn on this floor, I might slip and fall.”

“Oh, come here, smartass,” Vi said, and pulled Jinx into their embrace. When they all stepped back, and ignored Jinx miming sticking her finger in her mouth and barfing, she said, “It’s good to see you guys. I’ve been worried sick.”

“Not that sick,” said Jinx. “Cathy’s been feeding you, that’s for sure. What kind of kibble she give you?”

“Ha ha,” Vi replied. “I’m not even gonna reply to you. I have an example to set.”

“Exemplify this!” Jinx showed her her mechanical middle finger.

Ekko chuckled and lightly punched both of them in the shoulder. “You guys are the worst,” he said. He’d never mean it.

Vi paced around their room, admiring it. The dresser, and the mess Jinx made on top of it with trinkets and a jar of the pink dye she used on her hair. Their bedside table, with its candle and her eyeliner and lipstick right next to it, only used on good days.

Her eyes paused on the two pillows next to each other on the bed, on plush Claggor, Mylo, and Isha hanging from the bedpost on Jinx’s side, and Ekko realized maybe he should start running. He felt heat creep up to his face and looked away from her, scratching his neck.

But Vi didn’t say anything. She came to a stop in front of the mural on the wall, a mess of paint and graffiti that they’d made, because there was free wall space and they couldn’t think of a reason not to tag it. They’d had to sleep outside for two days to avoid the smell, which quickly reminded them they were now the adult supervision they felt like they didn’t have. Luckily the weather had been nice, and the fireflies provided enough light for Jinx to be able to fall asleep to.

“Cool place,” she said. “Didn’t get to see it last time.”

“You didn’t miss much,” Ekko replied, sitting back down on his unmade bed. “It didn’t look like this back then.”

Without warning, he felt a weight plop down next to him and a spritz of water entering his ear. He turned to Jinx with a bewildered look on his face.

“What the fuck?”

“Read it,” she pointed at the forgotten letter where it sat on his pillow. Before she could react, Vi plucked the water pistol from her hands and gave her a taste of her own medicine.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, wiping her cheek.

“Stop bullying the boy, Pow-Pow,” Vi scolded.

“Whatever. Traitor,” she grumbled, and crossed her arms. “Grown man, by the way.”

Ekko nodded in Vi’s direction, and got to opening the letter.

Dear Ekko,

After much deliberation from the Council, and perhaps too many secret meetings and back-door deals brokered with each Councilor separately, full amnesty has been granted to the Firelights. You are free to enter Piltover at your will should you ever need or want to, and I personally welcome you to, Ekko, as I know Violet would love for us to get to know each other. 

I am also pleased to inform you that partial amnesty has been granted to Jinx. Councilor Medarda and Councilor Sevika were surprisingly helpful with this particular point. Piltover will not pursue her or arrest her; her entrance to Piltover, however, requires a Councilor’s written permission, and she is not to wander the streets without supervision. 

As I am a Councilor, and as it is not in my personal interest to feel Violet’s wrath should I not permit her sister’s crossing, this should not prove to be an insurmountable issue.

I will be keeping Scar for a few more days to hopefully finish deliberations on the issue of reparations for Zaun. In the meantime, keep Violet out of trouble for me.

My thanks again for your service to Piltover.

Your Humble Servant, etc.,

Caitlyn Kiramman

“Woah, not bad, Katherine,” Jinx said, and her voice next to his ear brought Ekko back to the real world. “Although, all that Piltie education, and her handwriting still looks like chicken scratch?” When Ekko didn’t reply, she put her hand on his chin and closed his mouth, which he hadn’t realized was agape. “Kitty’s got your tongue, mister? Not yours, too.”

Ekko looked at Vi. “How did you do this?”

“Can’t tell ya,” was her reply. Jinx elbowed him and mimed scissors with her hand, which earned her another spritz of water in the face. “You behave.”

“Reparations? For Zaun ?” He asked.

“Yep,” said Vi, beaming. “What, all this time, you think I’ve just been sleeping next to her?”

“Not just sleeping,” replied Jinx under her breath. Another spritz. 

“I can’t believe it, Vi.” Ekko smiled, and looked over at the girl sitting next to him. She seemed to be studying him. “Don’t you think it’s insane?”

“Oh, it’s crazy, alright,” Jinx said sarcastically, and shrugged. “But also kinda sad, ‘cause I was hoping to saunter into Caitlyn’s house unannounced next week for a family reunion. Oh, jeepers!”

“Fuckin’ reparations for Zaun.” Ekko was beaming too much to even think to point out to Jinx she had just said Caitlyn’s actual name. “I can’t believe it. We have to celebrate.”

He moved his arm to wrap Jinx into a side-hug but was sprayed in the face before he was able to. “Don’t get all sappy on me now, squirt,” she said, pistol now somehow in her hand. “You have to live long enough to go tell all your buggies about this.”

⧗

“Don’t you think it’s too good to be true?”

The main bath was actually steaming. Sigrid had been responsible for the ovens tonight, and she had given him a suspicious look when he’d told her he’d take care of it. She’d patted him on the back, too, but he’d been too happy to care about whatever idea she’d gotten into her head.

Jinx’s face was underwater up to her nose, where she was blowing bubbles, seemingly lost in thought. When he spoke, she stopped and straightened her back, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She’d kept her demeanor silly for the entire day, but once Vi had headed to the bed they’d share tonight, too drunk to stay awake, she’d seemed far away. 

Ekko had been surprised to learn Jinx doesn’t drink. From far away, through the years, he’d thought she became a party girl. When he’d seen her for the first time in years, with braids to her mid back, dark eyeliner, and a cropped top he’d thought, Damn, Powder grew up . He remembered wondering if she had any friends, if she went to parties. Did she celebrate Silco’s wins with his other cronies at the bar? Did she dance, did she get pass-out drunk like he did? In the mornings, while mourning his losses, he’d wonder if she was also getting out of bed, a dull ache pounding in her head. He’d wish she was violently hungover, that she’d throw up all over Silco, that he’d have to clean her vomit himself.

When he’d asked why, she replied, “It just makes everything worse. No, thanks.”

He couldn’t really argue with that, so he’d gotten her fruit punch from the kids’ table.

“You know, I do,” Jinx’s reply to his question shook Ekko from his rêverie . “I didn’t want to bring it up, but I do. I just feel like there’s gotta be a catch somewhere, right?”

“Right,” he said. 

“But what was I supposed to say to Vi? ‘Your girlfriend’s full of shit?’ And get a tongue-lashing about how I need to trust Caitlyn even though I killed her fucking mom,” Jinx said, gesturing wildly. “I killed. Her fucking. Mom. And she would just hand me this on a silver platter? ‘Partial amnesty’?” Jinx did air-quotes, and then rolled her eyes. “Am I supposed to believe that? And reparations? For ‘Zaun’?” More air-quotes. “We’re all being played. There’s no way.” She looked at him, unsure. “Right?”

“I—”

“But she believes her. Love is blind, I guess.” She giggled nervously. “She has no guarantees, but she believes her. How can I—” Jinx shook her head and slumped her shoulders. “Whatever, what do I know?”

Ekko wasn’t quite sure how to reply. “We’ll just have to see, I guess,” he said. “It all just feels like a dream right now.”

“All of it does,” Jinx said quietly.

“Hm?” Ekko sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

“I just—I feel like any moment now I’ll wake up and realize that I’m still in the shitter.” She laughed without mirth. “That it was all a dream, and I’m actually alone, or dead. That Vi is still looking for me, to kill me. That you’re still trying to kill me. It all feels too good to be true. It makes no sense.”

Ekko took her hands in his. She clutched them tightly, as if afraid they’d slip out of reach. “How long have you felt like this?”

“Since that day in the fissures,” she whispered, and leaned her forehead on his cheek. “I’m so scared. That now that I’ve seen what things can be, that it’ll all get away from me.”

Her hands started shaking, so he did the only thing he could. He wrapped his arms around her and clutched her tightly. She returned the embrace, nails digging on the skin of his back. He didn’t care. Let her draw blood, for all he cares. The reality was that if she asked him to bleed out for her, he would. If she wanted to kill him, he’d make sure she’d planned where to hide the body without being caught. 

“I’m scared, too,” was all he could say. Scared of how real everything had become once he’d realized that if Piltover had asked for her, he didn’t think he’d let them take her. Scared at how much of a betrayal that was of everything he stood for—that for one single life he might throw away everything he’d fought for. Everything his friends had died for. He didn’t know what he’d have done. He was glad he’d never have to. “But this is real. It’s so real.”

“I see things, Ekko.” Jinx’s chin was on his shoulder. “People. Hear them, too.” 

This wasn’t news to him. He vividly remembered eavesdropping on a conversation between Vander and Benzo, where Vander had said he was worried about Powder, about her ‘waking nightmares’. That she saw things, and they made her scared. He never told a soul about it, and he never would. 

“But they never touch me,” she continued. 

“We’re real,” he said, and tightened his hold on her.

“It’s funny.” Ekko could feel her smile as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. “Right now, I actually believe you.”

⧗

Scar came back two weeks later, to everyone’s delight. Jinx sat in on the meeting where he told them about the reparations, but Ekko only heard half of it. It was okay, he’d been handed a copy of everything in writing he’d get to evaluate later to his heart’s content. It was the first meeting she attended, and she was leaning dangerously back on her chair, rocking it back and forth with the front legs off the floor, an uninterested expression on her face.

She’d caught him staring several times, and this time, she stuck his tongue out at him. He struggled to suppress a smile, and only a few seconds later realized everyone was looking at him.

“So?” Scar said.

Ekko cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. It almost feels too good to be true.”

Luckily, that was the right answer, and Scar kept talking. There were a few chuckles here and there, but no one said anything. 

Once the meeting was over, Ekko stayed behind with some of his colleagues. When he looked back at the chair Jinx had been sitting on, it was empty. He stayed a while to discuss preparations for an actual big party—now that Scar was back, they needed to celebrate their diplomatic victory, with music and their fanciest clothes.

Ekko found Jinx in their room, bobbing her head to whatever song had gotten stuck in her brain this time as she worked. They’d brought an unused table upstairs with much effort, as well as a rusty hand-cranked sewing machine someone had scavenged but never bothered to get working. With some tools and oil, she’d fixed it up nicely, and immediately started making things.

Children grew fast, and Jinx’s hidden talent was being great at making tiny clothes at lightning-fast speeds. He’d seen her sew before, when she made the hood she wore to Piltover during the battle, but Ekko had had no idea that, with the right tools at her disposal, she could make half a dozen little garments in one sitting, and he’d only have to call her name three or four times until she heard him calling her to go downstairs and eat.

“Remind me to tell Vi to tell Kathleen to send me some fabric dye and paint,” Jinx told Ekko as soon as he walked into the room. “She should be able to send that. This shit is so boring. Scar’s baby needs to be decked out.”

“Oh, now you hear me?” He asked. He’d meant to sneak up on her.

“I always hear you,” she replied without looking up. Her hand on the crank was moving in quick rotations. “I just don’t always listen.”

“I don’t know how you got the hang of that thing so quickly,” he said, looking over her shoulder at her work. “You sure you only hand sew before?”

“I build bombs, bucko.” She finally stopped and looked up at him. “But making clothes with a sewing machine is too much?”

“Oh, c’mon.” Ekko rolled his eyes  “Those are two completely different skill sets.”

“They’re both physics,” she replied, and shrugged nonchalantly.

“In that they exist on the physical plane.” 

“See? You’re starting to get it.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I don’t know, you seem pretty convinced I’m real.” She punched him lightly on the chest. “Said it yourself.”

Ekko smiled and put his hand on her shoulder. “Fine. You’re improbable.”

“Hah.” She turned back towards her work. “Now go tell Vi about the paint. Mama wants paints and she’s decided she wants ‘em now.”

He knew when he was being kicked out. He rolled his eyes and headed to the door. “Mama, you? As if.”

“Says Unc,” she replied.

He scoffed and left their room, unsure of what that meant but feeling wounded nonetheless.

⧗

“Jinx, I’m happy,” Ekko said as soon as he heard her footsteps.

“Oh?” She plopped down next to him in the steaming water, resting her elbow on the ledge of the tub. “Why’s that?”

“It’s just… Finally sinking in, I guess.” He gestured around him. “Everything. Like, you’re safe, Vi’s safe. We made it, y’know?”

The corners of her mouth curved upward. 

Ekko continued, “Obviously it’s not perfect, and there’s still a lot to do and people to eulogize, but… I don’t know.”

“Woah, big word,” Jinx teased, poking him in the chest. “Since when are you smart?”

He ignored her taunt, content to soak in the warmth that surrounded them and in his own joy, no matter how temporary it would be. When he glanced at her again, his attention was drawn to the scar she was tracing on her right arm, right on top of one of the clouds adorning her skin.

“You never told me about your tattoo,” he said.

“Oh, this baby?” Jinx held out her arm in front of him, showing it off. “Got it, like, two years ago. Silco was so mad. I just showed up in his office with it one day. I said, ‘Blowing things up is fine but a tattoo crosses a line?’ and won that argument in record time, if I do say so myself.”

Ekko laughed, despite the mention of Silco still sending shivers up his spine. “That’s pretty funny.”

“Yeah. Hurt like a bitch, too, when she started poking my ribs. I thought the boob would be worse, but nope.”

Ekko blinked. “What?”

Jinx chuckled at his expression. “What, you never noticed? It goes, right shoulder—” she pointed, “—to right hip. And right arm, too, obviously.”

“Just, never really thought about it, I guess.” He scratched the back of his neck. 

“No one has seen the full piece.” She paused to think. “No one alive, anyway. Public indecency, or whatever.”

“No one alive?” Ekko tried to ignore the pangs gnawing at his insides, and he definitely refused to name them. 

“The tattoo artist died pretty tragically, but it’s kind of a long story and I’m getting kinda sleepy.”

“I’ll remind you to tell me another time,” he replied. 

She smiled, but wouldn’t meet his gaze. They stayed in silence for a moment, before she said, “Do you wanna see?”

Ekko didn’t know what to say. He tried to school his expression to be as neutral as possible. “Uh—”

“No worries if not,” she interrupted, giggling awkwardly. “I just, uhm. I never got to show it to anyone ‘cause there was no one I really trusted that much except for Silco and that would’ve been weird.” Her words got quieter and quieter as the sentence went on. “Y’know?”

He tried to steady the rhythm of his heartbeat. “I’d lo—I wouldn’t mind seeing it. It’s pretty cool.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

She tentatively got up and took a few steps forward, stopping in front of him with her back turned. Ekko gulped and focused on breathing. He watched as she unwrapped her towel and slid it down her back, exposing pale skin and blue clouds. Small white scars interrupted the artwork here and there, and maybe it was the steam making everything hazy, but Ekko swore they looked like shooting stars.

She wrapped the towel around her hips and looked over her shoulder towards him.

“It’s gorgeous. It suits you,” he said, scanning it once more.

She smiled and turned her face downward to the water in front of her. “Thanks.”

She turned around slowly and it took everything in Ekko not to immediately look away. He looked at her eyes instead, pointedly looking at anything but him, gauging her reaction, and only when she remained still did he allow himself to survey the remainder of her tattoo, how its blue swirls covered her entire hip, how the water droplets falling in rivulets down the blue of her ribcage looked like rain. He couldn’t imagine a reality where she faced him like this and didn’t have it, and he didn’t want to.

She peered down at him from behind her bangs with big, expectant eyes and he couldn’t help but hold her gaze for a moment. 

“It’s beautiful,” he finally said. “I love it. It’s really, really pretty.”

She smiled softly, and stormy skies made way for the sun. 

⧗

“Could you be any more of a brute while you eat? Pilties didn’t teach you manners yet?” Jinx asked with a frown.

Vi was stuffing her face with chocolate cake, getting frosting all over her mouth. “You sound like Cait,” she replied, mouth full. “Let a girl live.”

“I’ll kick your ass,” Jinx replied.

“You’re welcome to try,” Vi said. 

“No, she’s not,” Ekko intervened. “Except if it’s a dance battle.” He gestured to where some Firelights were dancing wildly. At another table, Scar was bouncing his baby, clad in a multicolored bodysuit Jinx had made, to the beat of the song. He raised his cup of fruit punch and nodded, and Scar nodded back.

“Nah,” Jinx said. “Not doin’ all that.”

“You don’t dance?”

“Not with her. She used to step on my toes all the time. She bruised my pinky once. She’s got logs for feet.”

“It’s true,” Vi said. “Terrible dancer, unfortunately. But Pow-Pow’s great. She’s got rhythm.”

He smiled and looked at Jinx. “Proof or it didn’t happen.”

“Hm, maybe some other time,” she said, rotating her cup slowly in her grasp. 

“C’mon,” Ekko urged and extended his hand as he got up. “It’ll be fun. I promise won’t step on you.”

Jinx looked at him, at his hand, then at the makeshift dance floor packed with juiced-up Firelights, and then back at him. “Thanks, but I don’t really want to,” she said. “Maybe some other time.”

Ekko tried not to look as crestfallen as he felt. Jinx furrowed her brow, but a glance at Vi rendered her unable to say whatever she meant to say next. He looked at her only to find some frosting on the tip of her nose, and broke out in giggles too.

“What?” Vi wiped her nose with the back of her hand. When she saw the frosting, she chuckled. “You guys need to grow up and live a little.”

⧗

“Hey,” Jinx said. “Thought I’d find you here.” 

He was leaning on the balcony outside their place, but he stood up straighter when he saw her come up the stairs. She looked radiant in her usual striped pants and a one shoulder top she’d made last minute, just before dinner.

“Hey.”

“Shouldn’t you be down there? Y’know, being their leader and everything?” She nudged him with her hip.

He shook his head and smiled. “I talked to Scar. I’m stepping down.”

Jinx seemed surprised. “Why?”

“I just—I wanna focus on being a kid, I guess, while it’s not too late. We had to grow up so fast… I want to enjoy what’s left of it, while I still can. Does that make sense?”

She held his gaze. The fairy lights they’d hung all over the tree branches earlier that day shone in her eyes as she nodded. 

“I don’t wanna carry that much with me all the time. I wanna see where the future takes me.” Before he lost his courage, he placed his hand on top of hers where it sat gripping the railing. “Where it takes us.”

Jinx looked down at where the party still raged on in front of the mural with a small smile and moved her hand to lace her fingers with his. They stood like that for a while.

“Ekko?” 

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t dance with you,” Jinx said, clutching his hand. “There were a lot of people, and I didn’t want them to be uncomfortable.”

“I get it.”

“It’s just, I didn’t realize it meant so much to you, I guess.”

“Hey, it’s fine.” He smiled and turned to properly face her, their hands interlocked in the small distance separating them. “There’ll be other times, right?” 

She nodded and turned to him, too. “I’ve, uh—I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

Ekko’s heart started pounding. “What is it?” 

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For, y’know. For everything. For being there for me, and for them.” She gestured with her head to where some people still danced. “I never thought it would be possible for something like this to exist.” She paused for a moment, took a deep breath, looked around. “It’s still a mystery to me that you’re real.”

His free hand moved to cup her face. She leaned into his touch, and spoke before he had the chance to. “Thank you. For not giving up on me.” 

He pulled her close, and he felt the dampness in her eyes and her smile as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. “I’ve never seen anyone give up on you.” 

She pulled back to look at him, and her eyes shone with unshed tears as she whispered, “I believe you.”

When they kissed, it was slow. It was Ekko’s hand on her cheek. It was Jinx’s arms wrapped around his neck. It was awkward giggles after teeth crashed against each other. It was the fireflies flying around them. It was slow dancing where no one could see them. It was their room, and it was their bed, and it was his jacket on the floor, and tracing patterns in each other’s skin. It was talking until the sun rose and it was sunlight on Jinx’s hair and it was holding each other until they fell asleep and

it was everything. They were everything.