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Demacia.
The city of peace. A city for the unpopular.
At least that’s what the ‘legends’ say.
In reality, it is chaotic, busy, full. People scramming all over the place, some going to work, some loitering around.
But there are giggles, laughs, smiles. Demacia might be crowdy, but people out here were genuinely happy.
The area teemed with diverse trees and glistening water bodies that enriched the scenery. Wildlife was so abundant, animals often wandered onto the streets, blurring the line between nature and civilization.
The harbour, or what people called it- ‘Trade Hub’ because half of the ships around Runeterra always seemed to reach this port, and the bundles of barrels and boxes coming from these ships seemed to fill half of the hub.
Most of the buildings in the neighborhood were dressed in the signature ceramic-white of Demacia, clean and uniform, with the occasional splash of indigo, black, pastel yellow, or baby pink—gentle flourishes that never strayed too far from tradition.
All except one.
Nestled quietly among the rows of pristine homes stood a house in soft, earthy brown. Its sloped roofs was the darker shade which the walls shared, and broad windows welcomed in the morning light. The garden was wild with life—plants of all kinds spilling from pots, climbing trellises, brushing the stone path in a vibrant, untamed display.
People often turned their heads as they passed, drawn to its difference—it was a break from the sameness of the white. Some admired it. Others looked away, jarred with its contrast. After all, it didn’t reflect the cultural aesthetic of Demacia.
But no one could blame the residents. They weren’t Demacians by blood.
They were what they called- ‘Immigrants.’
And not just any immigrants—by now, nearly everyone knew them.
They had lived there for seven years.
The elder of the two has a sharp mind in Demacia’s weapons and trade sector, herself being an engineering genius, with long blue hair flowing down her back, a deep scar cutting across her face like a memory made visible. She was known in high circles, even counted among the trusted friends of the Crownguard family—the sworn protectors of the royal line.
The other was her daughter, a quiet elementary-student at the Demacian Academy. Her blue-brown hair and large golden eyes drew attention whenever she walked the stone corridors or was seen near the Crownguards. But it was her half-burnt body and mechanical arm that stirred whispers—some laced with sympathy, others with unease. She rarely spoke, at least not as much as the other children her age. But her silence said enough.
They carried a past that didn’t need words. Anyone who looked at them could see it.
And yet, for all the pain they bore, the house they lived in overflowed with love.
The nameplate by the gate also shared its own characteristics. While others bore addresses or surnames, theirs was marked by just two letters, joined simply by an ampersand:
| J & I |
Time: 5:00 a.m.
Yet another sleepless night.
She was in bed, arms stretched and looking at the ceiling. God, she didn’t sleep a wink last night, she never really did, she sometimes missed the times when she slept like a baby.
She took a look at the datesheet.
18th of the 7th month.
“Great, again a trip to the harbour” Jinx audibly uttered, now getting up.
Her room consisted of a closet and drawer. A giant board was placed on the wall opposite to her Queen-sized bed, with papers, reminders, a whole big map of Runeterra, some bills, all pinned down. Her walls had a baby pink hue, with one having a blue shade, where the headboard of the bed was placed. Looked real bland when she moved in here the first time, however, her daughter’s scribbles and drawings embellished the walls halfway through, now this room belonged to her.
And here and there, there were objects which belonged to either of them.
Jinx got up, stretching her limbs and clicking her tongue at the mess which laid on the ground. She would love to clean this mess but that’s for another day, and she knew that ‘another day’ was really far.
Jinx made her way toward the kitchen, her eyes still puffed up due to lack of sleep.
the kitchen had vivid-deep yellow walls. Black cabinets with speckles of yellow and orange and a blue chimney resided above the marble counters, a utensil and vessel holder, a sink and garbage chute made it look usable.
She made her way towards the fridge, which by now, looked like it was brought from a junkyard. But they never thought to buy a new one cause’ its the inside that counts, and it worked just fine.
She picked up the things needed for today’s breakfast.
………
Breakfast was nearly done, and the last thing to cook was the bacon. She had slapped them onto the pan, and looked at the sill of the window.
She rarely does, but today some of her violets which rested in the pink porcelain vase, had seen to wilt, she never really liked flowers but kept them in the memory of the only person who carried her blood.
Her older sister, who was named after the same flower,
Violet. Or better known as Vi.
She barely noticed how the years slipped away—seven whole years since the chaos created by Noxus, since she tore herself away from Zaun’s choking grip.
Did her sister find peace? Was Caitlyn still looking after her? Was Zaun truly free now, or just another cage? Did Ekko’s memory of her even linger, or had she become a ghost in his past?
She never dared dream of a life like this—steady, warm, filled with small joys. Yet here she was: part of a family, holding down a steady job, surrounded by friends who cared. And most of all, a fiercely proud single mother.
Her Isha—tiny and wild when she took her in at four, already pulling heart-stopping stunts that made her breath catch, which will scar both of them their entire lives. The same girl with whom she vanished from the city’s edge at five, leaving a trail of sorrow behind.
And now… her little firecracker was twelve. Walking into her very first day of middle school, stepping into a new world.
It felt like a dream she never dared chase, and yet, here it was—her life, in full colour.
The smell of burnt food tingled her nostrils. At first she thought she was just smelling things
but she was proven wrong when she looked at the counter beside her. Shit, the bacon was on the stove for too long.
Jinx hurriedly put them on a place, but thank god, they were this close to be overcooked.
Why does she always get lost in her thoughts at the most crucial moments?
She reached for the clock near her. Strange, because she never really took a look at the time when she was at Zaun, actually she didn’t even own things like that!
But nowadays it was a routine for Jinx. Because the clock right now read 6:15 a.m.
And Isha wasn’t awake yet. She knows school starts at 7:30.
Jinx normally would’ve waken her up 15 minutes later, but that girl’s hair has become longer and messier, and takes at least 25 minutes to be done, ‘bird’s nest’ according to Jinx.
Jinx groaned, before she raised her voice-
“Isha….come downstairs, you have school” Jinx called, knowing she wouldn’t get an answer.
Guess she has to do this the right way.
6:10 a.m. ,
accompanied with that same old annoying alarm clock tune.
She was having such a good sleep. Stupid alarm clock.
But then again, she was the same person who begged her ma to create one for her.
Riiiiinggggg…. That same sound, now blared to her ears. She pressed the snooze, thinking it would stop by now.
But that was in vain, because this thing was unstoppable.
She had to shut it for now, and all that left was the violent way, as the clock now got tossed onto the floor. It was one way to take out her rage.
She was still in bed when she heard familiar footsteps which seemed to stop near the door frame.
“That’s one way of showing that you hate the mornings, young lady.” the raspy voice of the woman who mothered her as her own, were received by her ears. She delivered the line as if she never hated them.
She knew the purpose of her mom entering her room.
“I don’t want to get up….just…5 more minutes …” Isha spoke, her voice bound with sleep. She hated mornings, just like her mom.
Jinx knew the best way to get a kid up to start their day was to throw sunlight on their face, she herself was woken up by Vi the same way.
And she did, moving the curtains from her window, the sunlight falling on her face. People always said that her face looked golden when she was in contact with sun rays….and Jinx couldn’t agree more.
“Maaa…close the curtains” Isha sounded vexed. She hated this kind of treatment.
“Well if you don't get your butt up from that bed, then expect me to make it worse” Jinx replied, now opening one of the windows.
“Okay fine… I’m getting up” Isha shot up from her position, now her back took support on the headboard. She wore her prosthetic arm which was always placed beside her alarm clock, well except for today.
Jinx had opened her windows and now sat on her bed, looking at the sleepy girl. Her right hand now brushed through Isha’s head, detangling her rear hairs.
“I thought you’d be excited for today”
”Really?….Why so?”
”Well, let’s see, 18th of the 7th month,” Jinx recalled. “You said you will finally get access to the second floor of the Academy, that new chemistry lab the faculty had established. And your first day of Middle School-“
It didn’t take Isha long to react to the last 2 words. Middle. School. Something she had been waiting so long for.
She looked at her mom with wide eyes, one of them filled with the morning discharge. And that little soft grin established on her face, which was her symbol for excitement.
And before Jinx could even realise, the girl was up from her bed and had ran downstairs, with loud, obnoxious footsteps.
She chuckled, Where do kids even get their energy from?
Before leaving her room, Jinx stopped to take a glance behind her.
Isha’s room was a huge contrast to Jinx’s. Sure it had the scribbles and artworks, but these were the improved ones, while Jinx only owned the version her daughter’s younger self had created.
Her bed, messy as her work desk, with piles of books and her jute satchel at one side and a stand for her quill-pen in the other. The walls in her room were orange, with one of them being blue- the same hue as Jinx’s hair.
She too had her own closet and cabinet, but she never really bothered using them, for all her combs, clips and tie were on the cabinet’s surface, and she wore mostly Jinx’s clothes, even if they were oversized for her frame. She didn’t really care about it much because now it was a common occurrence.
She smiled at the state of the room, messy but in her sense- ‘Isha-like’
….
Breakfast was at the table, and the kid still hadn’t stepped out of the shower.
Jinx knew she was getting late for work, but she ain’t leaving without her.
She arranged the food on the white plates she had brought from the central department store.
She looked at the stairs, which reflected the absence of footsteps. God, what’s taking her so long
But can Jinx blame her though? She picked this terrible sense of punctuality from her.
Jinx was about to sit down on one of the chairs when she heard a faint call-
“Ma! How do I look?”
She heard the footsteps, now growing louder. And in a minute, the girl was in front of her, in her new robes.
Jinx's gaze lingered, momentarily struck. She was so used to seeing Isha in her usual elementary uniform—navy-blue dungaree shorts with golden borders, a crisp white-collared shirt, and the Demacian crest sewn neatly onto the chest pocket. Sometimes, during the warmer months, she'd toss on a blue beret that sat askew on her curls; in colder weather, she bundled into a thick,blue woollen sweater, sleeves always half-rolled as if to defy winter itself.
But today….today was different.
This new uniform bore an air of nobility—a navy-blue long skirt, its hemline kissed with delicate golden lace, flowing modestly down to her shins. The blouse was no longer plain; ruffles gathered at the chest, rising into a graceful collar, pinned at the throat with a brooch bearing the Demacian silgil- the winged sword. The puffed sleeves, trimmed in blue, framed her small arms with an elegance that made her look almost royal.
Jinx stared. The transformation was striking. The uniform commanded respect; it whispered of discipline, tradition, and stature. And yet… something flickered beneath it—
Discomfort. Resistance.
“I never thought you’d look this good in skirts,” Jinx admitted, letting a small smile curl on her lips, equal parts pride and surprise.
Isha shifted her weight and grimaced.
“I miss the old dress,” she said, voice low. “This one’s uncomfortable.”
Of course it was.
Jinx knew too well the spirit beneath the fabric.
Isha wasn’t the kind to sit still for formality. Her regular outfit spoke volumes—a pair of faded black cotton overalls, worn loose, often smudged with paint or dirt from wherever her curiosity led her. Beneath it, she wore a yellow shirt, its sleeves and collar decorated with orange and pink borders. Some of those patterns were drawn by her own hand, others by Jinx’s, relics of lazy afternoons spent together. Her tattoo paint had faded now, leaving traces on her skin, but every few days she’d beg Jinx to redo them, which was against her approval
And always, around her neck, hung that string necklace, the one with the blue orb ringed in gold—a trinket heavy with memory, not of pain, but of sweetness, of someone Jinx used to be.
Now that necklace rested against the ruffled blouse, half-swallowed by the uniform that didn’t quite feel like Isha.
“Now come on, eat your breakfast before it gets cold” Jinx added, however knowing the food had already gone cold due to the passage of time.
Both of them sat down eating bacon and eggs, something Jinx considered as her specialty, as her cooking skills were….not the best(burned most of the food in the fridge).
Isha was now packing her satchel, the time read 7:00 a.m. now
And Jinx got into her attire, something she’d wear both at home and at work, and by a look at it, it was noticeable that Jinx also had gone through a change too-
Jinx had ditched the circus-leather chaos for something sharper. Her new top, magenta purple, with one sleeve hanging loose, bore her monkey emblem at the center. Faded greyish-blue leggings hugged her legs—one torn at the knee, one scrawled with paint. Yellow ribbons laced one leg like a ballerina’s lace. The jester boots were gone too, swapped for scuffed brown leather with gold laces that caught the light, just like Isha’s eyes.
Her appearance had changed too, from a malnourished, pale teen, who only survived for existence, to a woman in her late 20s, healthy and fair. Her cheeks now showed some accumulation of fat, and her smile lines became prominent in the last few years. Guess therapy’s been working out.
Jinx never wanted to be the kind of person who wasted time and money just to hear someone validate her feelings—especially when that someone often said the worst shit imaginable. She hated therapy more than she hated Caitlyn’s guts, and that was saying something. But things changed the day Isha found out about the hallucinations. That incident had left Isha shaken, scared—and Jinx, cornered. She had to face it, not for herself, but so her kid wouldn’t grow up screwed-up the way she had.
The first few months were pure hell—resentment, sarcasm, walls up high. But gradually, something shifted. The therapist didn’t just spew clichés; she gave advice that stuck. And maybe more importantly, Jinx found people just as broken as she was. Not pitying her. Not fixing her. Just... getting it. And for the first time in a long time, things didn’t feel so hopeless.
Her hair, long and thick, which flowed down to her waist, tamed in a claw clip at the back of her head. A striking strand dyed a bold red stood out among the blue tones—an unmistakable tribute, a silent reminder of her sister whose fire still burned within her. It was a mark of identity and remembrance.
And today, like many others now, she faced the world with a wide, fearless grin. Jinx was no longer just surviving—she was living. And she was ready.
The time now read 7:15 a.m.
Both the girls were now at their front porch. Jinx stood near her untamed garden, caressing the dirt from her climbers, and Isha, who kneeled down near the stone path to tie her school shoes.
Once she was done, she called her ma, and both of them left their humble abode, for the start of a new day.
“Back at busy harbour.” Jinx thought, now reaching her workplace.
Several recognisable faces greeted her, for she was the head of this duty.
Which meant a sense of pride, joy….and a butt load of work.
She started unloading her first barrel, which by the materials and packaging, looked Ionian.
That’s when a familiar voice greeted her from behind, a loud, joyous voice which only belonged to Ezreal Lymere.
This guy had entered Demacia by the alias of Jarro Lightfeather. Something so fake she never understood why she bought it the first place.
And shockingly, he got close to the Crownguards, because of his very ‘obvious’ crush on Jinx’s good friend, Luxanna Crownguard, the mage of Demacia, who herself had defied the magical principles of the nation for its protection.
Well she wasn’t able to tell him off right of the bat, actually no one was.
Except one,
Isha.
She had always been a keen observer growing up, and she often spied on Ezreal when she had time.
Jinx still remembers the situation at the bar party, when Isha had casually pointed out his tattoos carrying his actual name on his hand, along with his nationality.
He had a tattoo on his neck like Vi had of Zaun, but only difference, this was the Piltover crest.
Jinx really couldn’t care less about him, but some weeks later, there had been news of smuggling, concerning a blonde hair guy, something matching his very appearance.
And before long, she had surrounded him herself, out in the basement of the bar.
She thought he was some Piltie goon doing shit over her.
Oh, how bad she was proved wrong.
This guy might be a Piltie, but he seems to have an alliance with Sevika, and had been smuggling the materials, mainly food to Zaun. Because that council never gave rights to them in port-sharing. Classic.
During his first weeks of the confrontation, he became a victim of surprise, because not only she decided to help him by contacting with Sevika again and sending livestocks to Zaun, but also the fact that she was the ‘notorious wanted terrorist who lend a hand during the war, and rumours were that she died.’
He eventually processed it all. Until he found out about Isha. Then his brain completely short-circuited.
But 6 years from then, he had been in good terms with Jinx, best buddies even- and now he was at the port, coming along with his proud, mighty walk.
“Heya, J” Ezreal caught the attention of Jinx, who was glaring at him with her wide grin.
”If it ain’t the shitty alias guy” Jinx still teased him to this day, to which Ezreal scoffed.
”What’cha got there, anything that can come handy to me?”
Ezreal was a marksman, and also a temporary gem-finder, for his uncle who lived off at Piltover. He had came to Jinx for a nice chat and loot.
”Guess what, nothing. Better be going to your blondie soon-to-be-wife for tea, and she might help you out some bit”
Jinx informed, giving her edge of teasing for which Ezreal’s cheeks turned crimson.
It had only been a month since Lux and Ezreal had announced their engagement to close friends and family. A younger version of Jinx would’ve rolled her eyes and gone back to putting explosives in Piltover bases. But this version? She'd already mentally planned the wedding location, sketched out half the decorations, and maybe even picked a cake flavor or two.
All this, despite the fact that Jinx herself had never even been married.
Ridiculous? Absolutely. But in her own chaotic way, she was happy for them.
Even if she’d never say it out loud.
“Please, she might be busy right now, who knows she will be addressing the army about the next war” Ezreal placed the words in the air, playfully, though the tone of his voice gestured how proud he was of Lux.
“So what about Lil sha, what she upto.”
Jinx was conversing with him while emptying and arranging the materials from the barrels, some containing food, some handicrafts and the others, weapons, both good and bad. She was not only in charge of trade and shipment, but she also fixed these unusable weapons for good.
And now the person in question was Isha, who had by now attended two of her classes.
”Oh you know, little squirts’ at middle-school.” Jinx answered, her voice dismissive, but carried warmth.
”Middle-school, damn, kid grew fast” Ezreal added in. Being friends with Jinx also let him close to Isha.
He was like the others when he saw her for the first time—concerned. But day-by-day, the kid really showed her wonders. Sometimes Jinx would let Ezreal babysit her, but only when Lux was inside her walls. Of course some days, both of them were really good at it, while others…….just something not to be brought up in a conversation. Who knows how many times a firefighter squad had to extinguish a fire with these two around Isha.
Jinx also enjoyed his company, Ezreal never really knew it but Jinx felt that he had the same energy Claggor would’ve had if he was alive. And Lux was just a cherry on top, who reminded her of Vi and Ekko, while also carrying a-bit of demeanour and discipline of Caitlyn.
They were having their conversation, with Jinx hitting her last box, she now knew it was break for her, and the others out here too.
She would have normally head home by now to make lunch, but today had different plans, cause’ Ezreal had invited her to his place, and he knew Lux would be there too. Trio time at its finest.
And she couldn’t say no as the walk from there to Isha’s school was brief.
So both of them walked towards his estate.
“If it’s not blondie no.1”
Jinx expressed, she always says that when she sees Lux. And Lux never seems to mind.
Right now, she was beside Ezreal, who was setting the table.
She’s the kind of person who would arrive to a party before the allotted time. A while ago, arrived way before these two; even owns a key to Ezreal’s estate. ‘Jarro’ really trusts his fiancée.
Once the table was done, all three sat down chit-chatting, mostly about gossips and wedding-planning, while helping themselves with a side of chips on the table.
Lux and Jinx met many years before, even before the war.
There was this one time Silco had taken a young 15 year Jinx to Bilgewater for Shimmer trade, maybe the reason why she likes Bilgewater in the first place.
They were buying stuff from the busy markets, when someone of her father’s acquaintance had bid him hello.
A disciplined man, with a square face and sharp jaw, wearing a eye-patch on his left. He had a frown before which had turned into a grin now.
And beside him, a young soft girl, wearing a beige top with green long skirt. A striking difference to Jinx rather-cropped-torn clothes she had ‘designed herself’.
They were well-acquainted thanks to the trade cycle, and had started having a conversation in a short while, though Jinx remembers it was formal and brief.
A part of Jinx dreaded her outfit, even thought that she was untrustworthy. But the curiosity of Powder took the best of her.
”who’re you?” Jinx spoke, now more like a rekindled Powder.
”Oh, I’m Luxanna, Lux for short. What’s your name?” Lux gleamed, her voice radiant as the sun which glittered her skin.
”Jinx” She spoke, brief, with her chest puffed. Lux wondered, who would even think of naming their kid over a spell? Something which brought bad luck. But the questions didn’t stay for long, she could see how proud sorrowful Jinx was of her name.
”Where you from?”
“Zaun. What about you?”
”Demacia.”
That was a new place. Jinx had thought she had traveled the whole world by now, but she never even visited this so called- Demacia. She thought her face screamed dignity and restrain, something Silco once told her she should stick to. But to Lux, she looked as if like a puppy who had discovered human love for the first time.
”You can visit us anytime you want! Demacia’s great and we would love some visitors!” Lux spoke excited. She was different from Peiter- her father’s disciplinary aura.
Jinx had considered it, maybe even wanted to say yes—but before she could, Silco called her over. It was time to leave. She glanced back only once.
Years later, her curiosity hadn’t faded. She did visit Demacia, eventually—but there was no sign of the girl named Luxanna. She thought she’d overheard something like Crownguard? but she never dared to ask.
The last time Jinx had stepped into Demacia, it was through the market by the port—quiet, discreet. She wore a worn, familiar cloak, not just to conceal her face, now known across nations for her role in the war, but to shield the small child asleep in her arms. Her daughter. Isha. The girl’s tiny body was burnt, with her arm bandaged, healing slowly from wounds far too deep for her age.
Unfortunately, they had been a part of a dacoit loot, and soon many of the dacoits had surrounded them. She could've fought them but she was weak, her own wounds gave no signs of heal. She had to do the only thing she could, and that meant running from a fight—defying her own principles.
She didn’t get far.
The gang caught up with her. Surrounded her. She clutched Isha tighter, shielded her, bracing for the worst—when suddenly, there was quiet.
The same young girl Jinx had met years ago, that young girl who had suggested her to visit them wholeheartedly.
Luxanna
And In a brink of time, the dacoits were gone, held hostage by the king’s guards.
”Are you okay” Lux’s voice caught somewhere between disbelief and concern.
“Yeah.” A familiar voice, Lux hadn’t forgotten about her. And her guess was confirmed, when Jinx had lifted her cape,
The striking blue hair of the girl, her blue eyes, now pink, now holding a half-burnt young girl in her hands, sleeping on her shoulder soundly.
”Jinx?” Lux’s voice bore surprise, recognition.
”Oh, um..hey? I thought you didn’t remember me” Jinx’s face matched Lux’s, and her worlds muted than before.
She had a look at her acquaintance, at the young girl in her hands. Was that her daughter? Why is she burnt? Why does Jinx have untreated wounds? What even happened?
”God….come along with me, you look tried, I’ll arrange something…” Lux’s was concerned, she had thought her wounds were recent. She had let her voice wander, while going to one of the king’s guards.
Jinx again wanted to refuse, but couldn’t, for she was too tired, hungry and thirsty. She hadn’t eaten well in days. And something told her Isha was too.
Without any ado, she followed Lux.
Who would’ve thought that moment would be the beginning of a real friendship?
“…..Oh excuse you! I wouldn’t have done anything like that if you both hadn’t forced me” Lux blurted out, as a addition to the conversation the trio were having.
”Nah you looked like you wanted to do it, blasting that blow-torch of a weapon in that robo-lady’s face!” Jinx snorted, banging the table once, a coping habit she had picked up from the lack of violence in her life nowadays.
“Agreed, can’t combat the proud look on you face once you’d done it!” Ezreal blurted out, ending it with a giggle. He could still remember the damn-proud look on her face as if it was yesterday.
Both Jinx and Ezreal had their laughs when met with Lux’s funny-yet-cute angry slash pouty face. Jinx had reached to the elliptical bowl beside her for some chips, when she realised they were the hungriest they’ve ever been.
“Great again for me to take the chips, gotta move a muscle around the beat” Jinx mumbled, then got up to head toward the kitchen, the bowl included.
She had placed the chips on the bowl, soft chatter, of course flirting made way into Jinx ears. Sighing, she took a turn back when she was greeted with the time on the counter.
3:13 p.m.
Shit.
Wasn’t Isha going to leave her school by now?
Jinx placed the chips on the table, and a second later slinging the bag with used parts and weapons on her shoulder, and the wonder of Lux and Ezreal shot up.
“Where’re you going” Lux looked at her, surprise lingered on her face.
”Gotta move fast, Isha’s gotta leave any second now from her school.” Jinx placed her words, her tone signing maternal intuition.
“…Take care” Lux added, her voice faint, as Jinx left the house. She took a soft look at Ezreal, who too was greeted by the rush of the moment.
“You need help in the kitchen? Looks like no one cleaned it in days” Lux asked, removing the tension from the air.
“Oh..yeah, you wanna do that?”
”Yeah. Besides, wanna pass some more time with you.”
Ezreal smiled, “Alright, let’s get to work then.” He was smitten with her. And the same could be said for Lux too.
There was that obnoxiously loud gathering of parents near the gates.
Jinx looked around her, some minded their own business, picking up their own kids from school. And some fixed their eyes on her, either of fondness or fear.
The Academy stood in front of her, the building looked like a cathedral, with porches supported by grand pillars, and fields filled with bushes of numerous shapes and sizes, with some being flowering.
And it almost looked like the Kiramman Mansion—just more white, blue and yellow.
she thought she was late, but guess she was just in time. Nailed it
Just then the gates opened, young students covered the grounds, with their characteristic uniform along with blue capes which only middle and high-schoolers got for orientation. Different kinds of students ran to their parents, some with projects in hand, some books, and some with other gadgets which either were useful or just belonged to the gutter.
But no sign of Isha was found.
Jinx wondered deeper into the grounds, when she heard giggles from students she knew, with one of them being her child.
Five of them, the chums. Peirre, Elias, Abigail, Luneme and Isha. The latter was the quietest. Surely she enjoyed herself in her group, no doubt in that, but the fact of being surrounded by large crowds overwhelmed her.
Her buds never took that in account though, been friends since childhood. Luna was her first, which gradually came with her family being Isha and Jinx’s neighbour.
Isha who was listening to her friends chatter, moved her eyes to see the bluenette standing some yards before her, looking at the girl with satisfaction. Leaving her friends behind, she ran towards her mother, giving her that gut-crushing embrace which Jinx returned back.
“So, ready to go?” Jinx spoke, holding Isha’s shoulders, which made the girl respond with a soft smile.
”Yeah” Isha replied, her voice faint but jolly.
Jinx looked at the four standing in front of them, with smiles she was never accustomed to.
If it ain’t your whole crew! Seesh! Thought first day made people tired.” Jinx shot up, looking at the young kids.
She knew she was never gonna be sweet to another kid the way she was to her Isha, but they were exceptions, kids who actually met Jinx’s craze and chaos.
“Jinx! Will Isha come to the parks today?" Abigail, the brown haired girl, who's life dwelled on fun and games, asked Jinx with a radiant smile.
"Well, I can't refuse but it's up to Isha-" she looked at the girl in question who was nodding eagerly, "Yes, yes she's going."Jinx ended, ruffling Isha's hair.
Isha waved at her friends, while holding Jinx'x hand and walking the other way. She was met with the same
"So how's school"
"Great, but I'm hungry. What is there for lunch"
"Too bad kid...was at Ez's. And I am too bummed to enter the kitchen, sooo.."
Both exchanged glances, telepathic union.
"Takeout!" Both mother and daughter exclaimed.
and the two went off to the nearest food stall, the bluenette’s hand placed on the blue-brunette’s shoulder, with cheerful laughter Jinx wasn’t used to yet.
8:00 p.m.
lights on, it was nighttime. The living room, made lively with second-hand weathered sofa, covered by an orange cloth with mismatched patches, just like the one which used to be in her hideout, left untidy. The pristine beige rug with Indian handicraft designs, made untidy with bits and bots.
Isha was studying, her feather-pen gently scratching the pages of her notes, her half-empty inkpot decorating her desk, with an additional amount of books which she never bothered to put away.
The room was silent, comforting with some soft tinkering coming from the notable part of the house—Jinx’s workshop.
She was messing and rebuilding some of the weapons she had carried along from the hub. Her fingers and palm splotched with oil, grease, gunpowder and her head sweating from the hot weather and miniature parts. She was focused, she always was while working.
Strange to think the girl who meddled with bomb so chaotically, destroying things was now building for good…..that fortune cookie’s saying was coming true.
And while working, she became a different person. Constant since the time she was a kid, always focused, concentrated, unlikely to think that this same girl blew up things with utmost indiscipline.
Her mind was by now used to the absence of hex-tech. She had found other means and ways for builds. Hex-tech was a problem to her now, since the day when Ekko told her about the other universe. She could’ve got everything.
But in that world, hex-tech stole her only family from her.
Like she had killed off many family ties both hers and other’s in this universe.
“One final….finish…..and done!” Jinx exclaimed, relieved that her work for the day was done, and that to with perfect finesse
Jinx looked around her, her workshop was a organised mess. Blue prints lying or rolled almost everywhere, junk parts she said ‘she would eventually use’ and makeshift tables, some having a drawer like space for this or that. Her main workplace—the one holding all the weapons and where she was actively present in the moment, was decorated with warm fairy lights, a worn out cycle-wheel, and a board similar to the one in her room, but more bland and worn out.
Different plans and equations were written on the papers adorning the board, some even contained structural information due to her lack of sense for blueprints. But one corner had polaroids, a camera Jinx had found in the hub, while opening a Piltoverian Barrel. It was in a good state, well according to her but still needed improvements, and over the span of its fixation, Isha and Jinx had taken a lot of pictures, goofy and silly. This cluster was proof.
Jinx wasn’t a fan of pictures, she still is not. But the funny faces the camera captured of Isha made her to save them forever.
She left the room, taking stairs which led out of her attic, to her little homely kitchen downstairs. She settled herself on making a new recipe from her ‘specially acquired’ cookbook.
She was done after several hours of toiling and burning stuff, the result looking actually delicious. Isha who was studying in her room was now at the table, fiddling with the salt cellars and humming a song, the bridge song.
”Ok kid,” Jinx spoke. “Help yourself with anything else, but those vegetables should be in your mouth. M’kay” Jinx knew how much Isha hated vegetables. So much that she used to fake eat them and later feed it to stray animals outside their house. She was caught only after 3 days when Jinx saw her slipping out, through the bedroom window.
both of them settled for having dinner, silence lingered for a while, accompanied by clattering of plates and spoons, when Isha asked.
”did you get any good loot?” Isha said with her mouth filled with food.
”Lots. Gotta give these though, y’know take them to the market and stuff. As much as I would like to keep them for myself, I need that extra amount for daily stuff” Jinx replied, looking at her plate consisting of meat and vegetables, the same as Isha’s.
“Sooo…Tell me what else had happened at school? Gotta keep up shouldn’t I” Jinx nudged Isha, indirectly
Isha face lit up. She loved gossiping with her mom, old habit which she picked up from Jinx
“There was this teacher today who was trying to pull off that stupid Piltover accent, but he fumbled so bad at the middle that his voice cracked” Isha blurted, her voice filled with giggles, and was met by lightning laughter of Jinx. “Bud’s really think Piltover’s cool, man that city’s filled with shitheads” Jinx crackled.
“Except Ezreal? Right”
“Yeah, except Ez, but there are things he says sometimes that give me all the answers to his roots”
Both girls exchanged glances, Isha curly hair falling onto her face while Jinx’s locks tucked to her ear.
Jinx had finished her food by now, her proportion was smaller than that of Isha’s. She had turned to the sink by now when she heard aggressive scraping from behind.
“Isha, there’s no point in throwing those out. You have to eat them or I have my ways” Jinx blurted, met with Isha’s annoyed groan before stuffing her mouth with veggies.
Jinx turned around to face the girl’s direction when she was given a vexed stare with cheeks bigger than before, probably because of the unchewed food that resided in her mouth.
”You know you have to do more than that, chew it” Jinx advised. Isha replied with rolled eyes and exaggerated chewing. Clearly she hated it more than anything. And what was more restraining for her was that Jinx was keeping an eye on her now.
After a while, Isha joined Jinx at the sink, scrubbing the dish with whatever amount of dish soap left. Jinx never really forced her to do work, but she lend her a hand anyway, either it was with love or with a purpose, and Jinx had expected the latter.
“What do you want?” Jinx asked.
”What do you mean?” Isha gleamed with seeming irreverence.
”You know what I mean” Jinx nudged her in the arm.
”Im just….doing it” Isha said with a neutral face, scrubbing food remnants from the plates.
Both were halfway done with the dishes when the young girl snickered a yawn, making Jinx order her to bed.
”Mama…..Can I sleep with you today?” Jinx knew something was coming, she knew it.
Isha had started sleeping in her room for the past few months, nothing serious in general. But some days ago she heard sounds in the middle of the night right after a nightmare. Since then, she had been ‘faintly’ scared to sleep in her room again. Jinx herself had to wait a while in Isha’s room until the kid went to sleep.
Guess she wanted to sleep with her again, for now.
“Y’know you could've told me the time I asked you. Yes you can.” Jinx replied, her voice soft. She did not mind Isha sleeping with her. She rather missed it. Sometimes she’d roll in her bed when she felt insomniac, the small body of her daughter beside her gone made her feel lonely in the night.
“Really?”
”Of course baby.”
….
Jinx was in her bed, resting her head on the headboard, her right hand tapping a sleeping Isha gently. Jinx’s room still untidy, boards pinned with papers, and still drawings on her wall.
Her gaze shifted to her open window, soft wind brushing against her face, something which always felt therapeutic to her.
She doesn’t know what her days hold in the future, if she’d ever go back to Zaun. If she’d ever meet her sister, if she’d again face the deal, if she’d ever meet Ekko again.
No, she can’t think of that, that’s past.
Jinx had to be in the present.
She is a mother, a proud and loving mother of her beautiful baby girl, her little kid, her everything.
Isha had changed her, from a angsty murderous teenager to a therapy-seeking accepting individual. And she never regretted it.
Isha was the best thing that happened to her.
She turned her bedside lamp off, seeped into her bed, turning towards Isha, who slept there peacefully. Her burnt skin, now thicker and healed with a noticeable discolouration, always sank Jinx’s heart. She believed that she never deserved the kid, even now. But then again, she never stopped trying to be better for her.
She must protect her, because it’s them against the world.
Her hand reached Isha’s honey-coloured locks, sweeping them across her face. Jinx pulled her lips closer to give her a gentle and loving kiss on the forehead.
A sign that she would always, always love her already perfect daughter.