Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It's been three years since Jinx had sacrificed herself at the Hexgates.

It's been three years of mourning the sister she failed to protect. The sister she'd lost again.

It's been three years of grief that slowly morphed into brittle acceptance thanks to the support of her wife, her father-in-law, and her best friend—the only proof that her past wasn't just some cruel dream.

With that friend, she'd rebuilt The Last Drop—not a big bar with the second floor now, but a humble tinkering shop she'd worked at.

Ekko had taught her the basics—well, a bit more than just the basics. But she'd taught herself the rest.

She enjoyed it—fixing the mechanical. Even when she'd get frustrated and punch her workstation or the wall, she went back to it. It brought her closer to her dead sister, in a way. Maybe she didn't build new things, maybe she wasn't an inventor. But she found peace in futzing and tinkering and making the broken work.

She was broken.

She made it work.

Fuck.

She didn't hate her life that much anymore—kids came to her shop for internships. She had Ekko do classes for them, too. A few sumpsnipes would spend their days hanging out at The Last Cog, clearly orphaned. Always eager to learn.

She didn't adopt them, not exactly. But she let them scribble around the walls and floors. She let them sleep in the basement beds. She made them meals, gave them small jobs, and paid them.

They reminded her of the past she longed for. Back when things weren't good but they… were. They just were.

She still had nightmares. Less than before, but at least once a week she'd wake up screaming, or crying, or both. Cait was always so kind about it. Always there to comfort her.

Cait woke up screaming, too. It was rarer. Her nightmares were quieter in that regard. But Vi could always tell in the morning, so she did everything to make her wife laugh during breakfast.

Sometimes, Vi saw things from the corner of her eye. More often, she heard things that weren't there. That couldn't be there. Sounds of laughter, of voices long gone, of metal clanking against stone.

Cait got better about taking showers alone when they moved—the mansion was so big and empty it was stifling. Now, they lived in a spacious yet cosy apartment in the Promenade—above the Lanes, but close enough to the bridge so that Cait could get to the precinct quickly.

Her being the sheriff was a sour subject for a while. But she worked directly with the Councillor Sevika to demilitarise it. To change the system.

It was still far from perfect—three years were a lot for a grieving person, but not even close to enough for big societal changes. But it was better.

They had two dogs: a purebred doberman, and a big mutt that was a mix of a pitbull, a golden retriever, and probably five other breeds. They were mostly well-behaved. Spoiled. Too smart for their own good.

Vi took them for morning jogs. She often took them to the workshop, where they played with the kids or slept behind the counter. Cait took them for long evening walks to decompress from work.

Both dogs slept with them. They quickly realised they had to buy a bigger bed.

Now, the goobers were snoring on the couch in the workroom behind the counter. The kids were on a Very Important Mission—collecting screws, bolts, cogs and springs from the junk heap. The workshop was uncharacteristically calm, like the quiet before the storm.

Vi didn't do well with quiet. So she hummed an old tune her mother used to hum while she finally got to sorting the inventory—something she was meant to do a week ago, but always found an excuse not to. Sure, sorting screws by size was meditative. For the first ten minutes.

It was a relief when the bell announced a new customer. Vi pushed the boxes to the side, starting to speak: “Welcome to The Last…”

She froze. Her heart skipped a beat as it sank to the pit of her stomach. The girl at the door took her hood off with trembling hands, revealing a head of blue hair put up in two buns.

Vi's jaw dropped, like she was seeing a ghost. Because, in her mind, she was. A very life-like ghost, whose chin trembled as she spoke with a very convincingly real-sounding—if quiet—voice.

“Violet… Vi…” A sob ripped from her chest, raw and uncontrolled. And before Vi had the chance to process, a very real weight lunged over the counter and crashed into her, sobbing and laughing at the same time. “Vi! You– you’re alive!”

“I… I'm alive…?” she repeated, slowly coming out of shock. “You're alive. Shit.” She wrapped her arms around her little sister, shoulders shaking as her body was, too, torn between laughing and sobbing. “You're alive!”

Vi picked her sister up and spun with her like a madwoman, uncaring what got knocked to the floor.

“Jinx! You're real, you're alive! I– I thought you–”

Her sister kicked in the air a little, a signal she wanted to be set back down.

“Sooo…” she started when her boots hit the ground, rubbing tears from her eyes with her sleeve. Vi still held her tight, like she could disappear at any moment. “I'm not… Jinx…”

“Sure, that's fine, what do you go by now?” Vi asked, wanting to use the right name, even if names felt silly to care about when her sister was back.

“I… I'm Powder.”

Now that did throw Vi off. She leaned back with a confused “Huh?”

“I'm… not really your sister,” she tried to explain, but it only confused Vi more.

“What? No, no you are my sister—nothing is ever going to change that, okay?” She put her calloused hands over Powder's cheeks, pressing their foreheads together for a moment.

Powder shook with another sudden sob.

“N-no, I mean…” she sniffled. “I'm– I’m not Jinx. J is here, too, but…”

“Gods, you were never a jinx–”

“Funny,” came from the direction of the door, “she tells me the same thing.”

That voice was rougher, yet the cadence was all but theatrical. It was closer to what Vi grew accustomed to in the short time she got to spend with her sister before she…

Vi lifted her head slowly, holding her breath without realising it.

Leaning against the doorframe was another cloaked figure. This one didn't take her hood off, she didn't have to—her pink eyes glowed against the shadow cast on her face.

Vi looked down at Powder—blue, teary eyes looked back at her. No sign of Shimmer. A pink strand in her hair. Her old necklace around her neck.

She looked up at Jinx again. Bony and sharp-angled, she finally let the door close as she stalked forward.

“Hi sis,” she rasped, stopping half way between the entrance and the two hugging women, like she wasn't sure if she was allowed to come closer.

Vi opened her mouth. All that came out was the most confused sound a human had ever made.

“Come hug your sister, Bluejay,” Powder encouraged, taking half a step back and throwing Jinx a look.

Jinx, instead, grabbed a chair and came up close only to place it behind Vi. “Y'know, you should've told her to sit down first, she looks like she's gonna pass out…”

Vi slumped onto the chair, staring past the wall. The cogs turning in her head were nearly audible through her skull.

“Grab her some water?”

“I've got no clue where she keeps water.”

“The sink?”

Vi was having trouble processing which voice belonged to which version of her sister when they went out of sight. The snort and laugh that followed was definitely Jinx's, though.

“You don't wanna drink the sink water in this Zaun, Bluebell. Anyways, I think she needs somethin’ stronger than water.”

“Don't give her alcohol.”

“Give me alcohol,” Vi said flatly. “Room behind the counter, the highest shelf in the beat up closet.”

Silence, then footsteps. A slow creak of the door.

Then, sudden barking and paws on the wooden floor, followed by an “aww, puppy!” and an “oh shit!” exclaimed at the same time with nearly the same voice, like an echo that couldn't agree with itself.

“Onyx! Jax!” Vi shot up to her feet the moment she heard growling.

Jinx—now with her hood down and the single blue braid hanging from under her cloak—was crouched on the counter, hissing like a startled cat, while Onyx—the doberman—barked and growled. Jax, on the other hand, was happily licking Powder's face as she crouched on the floor and scratched him behind the ears.

“Onyx, come!”

With one last bark, the doberman heeded the command, sitting in front of Vi.

“No growling, alright, princess?” She booped the elegant, statue-still dog on the nose. “Calm, yeah?”

“C'mon, J, he's a cuddlebug,” Powder said with a giggle. Jinx didn't look convinced at all. “Who's a good boy? Yes, you!”

Vi stepped closer to the counter, slow like she was afraid she'd spook the girl perched atop it. “Jinx…? Are… are you real…?”

When her hand reached Jinx's shoulder, squeezing it gently, she felt the coiled tension of muscle. Real muscle. On a real, sharp bone.

“As real as they get, sis.” Even though she did her best to sound like a magician who just came back on the scene after a disappearing act, her voice cracked a little by the end.

Without another word, Vi pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. For a moment, Jinx stayed frozen. Then, slowly, her body started to relax. Her arms rose up, hovering with uncertainty.

“I– I thought you were dead,” Vi whispered in a trembling voice.

That must've flipped something in Jinx's brain—in a split second, she wrapped her arms and legs around her big sister, tight like a boa constrictor, sniffling and drying her eyes on her bulky shoulder.

“I… I’m sorry, Vi, I… I had to… I didn't mean… Shit, I'm sorry…”

“I missed you so fuckin’ much.”

Jinx snorted, her voice hitched with a sob before she was even done. “No, you didn't. Not me. You missed…”

Jinx suddenly hissed, pulling back and twisting around. Vi saw Powder over her sister's shoulder—she stood tall behind the counter, one hand on her hip, the other tossing and catching a bolt nearly threateningly, scowling at her alternate self.

Jinx sighed heavily, pressing her forehead to Vi's shoulder. “You sure you missed me?” she grumbled.

“I’m–” Vi took a shaky breath. “I'm more than sure. I've missed my little sister, Jinx. The one who lit up the flare, the one who found Vander and came to me to find him together, the one who saved my ass at the Hexgates…”

“The one who fired the rocket?” Jinx asked under her breath. “The one who fired at you?”

“Yes. Even the one who fired the rocket. The one who shot at me.” Vi was as firm as she could be, tears threatening to leave her eyes. “The one who fought me and fought beside me.”

“… You're fuckin’ crazy.” Jinx laughed, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve, eerily similar to the way Powder did just moments ago.

“Maybe I am,” Vi murmured. “But I'm also your sister, and that's not gonna change.”

Jinx fell silent, holding onto her tighter. For a while, the room was quiet, the silence broken only by Jax's whine as he nudged Powder with his snout, demanding more head pats.

“So…” Vi finally spoke again. “Do you mind explaining how, in every gods’ name, there are two of you? Wait, no, I wanna know how you survived. Where have you been for three years? Why didn't you write?!”

“Okay, so, funny story… Where's that alcohol?” Jinx deflected, sliding out of Vi's grip. She skipped behind the counter, one thick braid bouncing against her back as she moved. There was a pink streak going through it, too.

She grabbed Powder by the hand and pulled her inside the room the dogs came out of. Powder shot Vi an apologetic look before following after.

By the time Vi made it inside—after turning the sign at the door to closed—a bottle of whiskey stood on the wooden box-turned-table. Both versions of her sister sat on the dog-hair-covered couch, Powder with her legs crossed, while Jinx curled up like a smug cat, legs draped over Powder’s lap, lazily twirling a strand of her own blue hair. Powder, for her part, looked calm. A little sheepish. Definitely bracing.

“Come here, boy,” Powder called quietly, patting the couch on the opposite side of Jinx. Jax eagerly joined them up, his tail wagging and tongue lolled out as the scratches behind his ears continued.

Jinx scrunched her nose.

“What?” Powder murmured, pressing her finger to the wrinkles on Jinx's face. “Look at him. He's cute.”

“I'm cuter,” Jinx grumbled.

Powder sighed, readjusting so that she could pet Jinx's head with one hand while she pet the dog with the other. Jinx seemed satisfied.

Vi felt as though she was moving through molasses, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting her like a freight train. She slumped onto the big armchair across from the couch, fidgeting with the rings on her fingers. Onyx lay down at her side, resting but alert.

Silence.

Powder looked around the room, at the shelves filled with trinkets to the bigger machinery lined up by the wall.

“That's an impressive collection,” she offered with a smile.

“Oh, it’s not mine,” Vi said, words feeling weird in her mouth as her brain desperately tried to process. “It’s the stuff I fix for people.”

“Wait, you tinker?” they asked at the same time, one voice amazed and the other sceptical.

Vi's head hurt.

“You never told me your Vi tinkered!”

“Last I knew the only way she tinkered was with her fists. That's a new one.”

“I picked it up after you… died. Felt like it brought me closer to you.” Both versions of her sister looked like they were about to cry. One just hid it better. “Which… care to explain what the fuck happened?”

“Right…” Jinx bit her lip, glancing away.

Vi picked up the bottle and pulled the cork out with her teeth, then took a swig. It burned, but at least that made her feel real. “Either of you want a glass?”

“We don't drink,” Powder said politely while Jinx shrugged with a “Sure, why not”.

Powder's eyes narrowed. “We don't drink,” she repeated, firmer.

“Isn't this the perfect occasion, Bluebell? A double-whammy-out-the-grave reunion?”

“You hate how it tastes,” Powder reminded her. “And it doesn't mix well with our heads.”

Jinx groaned. “No-fun Powderbun.”

“You know what won't be fun?” Powder huffed.

“Yeah, yeah…”

Vi took another swig and put the bottle down, though in her immediate reach. She intertwined her fingers and put her lips against her hands.

“So…?” she prompted. “Can you… start from the beginning?”

Jinx fidgeted with the hem of Powder's cloak.

“Right… the beginning. It's a little bit of a mess,” she gave Vi a wry smile. “But, basically, not-Vander let go. And my body screamed ‘survive’, so when the bomb went off, I Shimmered to the vents. Then, it's kinda a blur…?”

“You could've come back…” Vi whispered, but Jinx shook her head.

“I… I wasn't doin’ well, Vi. I had to get out of the cities. I… I had to get away from everything. And if I told you, you'd come runnin’ after me.”

“Of course I would!” Vi threw her arms in the air, having to let out her feelings somehow.

“And that was exactly the problem! I didn't want you to!” Jinx raised her voice, then bit her lip when Powder shushed her gently.

“Why? After we finally could've been sisters again… why?”

Jinx didn't wait with the answer: “You lived your whole life focused on me. It was the time for you to live for yourself, sis.”

The words sank in like stone in the water, making Vi slump in the chair, staring at the bottle in silence. She didn't reach for it, not yet. Just digested the words she knew were true.

“‘Course that's not what I thought back when I sneaked onto the airship,” Jinx let out a quiet giggle she couldn’t hold back. It seemed more nervous than playful. “Back then, I mostly thought: fuck, shit, ow, ouch, motherfucker, am I gonna fuckin’ die, or something to that effect. The deeper thoughts came…” She turned her eyes to Powder, then leaned her head on her shoulder. “With Softie over here.”

Vi blinked slowly. “Right…”

“I guess it's my turn?” Powder spoke up, now rubbing slow circles across Jinx's back. “So, after I built that transporter thing with Ekko-from-here–”

It was like the right puzzle piece finally aligned in Vi's brain. She pointed at the alternate version of her sister.

“You're that Powder?! The perfect world Powder?!”

“Okay, I wouldn't call it perfect–”

“The everyone-lived-and-grew-up world Powder?” Vi continued, words spilling out. “The Ekko-dating Powder, dancing-in-a-dress Powder, romantic-kiss Powder–?”

“Tsk, chill Vi. That one's a sore subject,” Jinx cut her off sharply.

“I'm fine, Bluejay,” Powder murmured. “It was a long time ago, and it got me here, so…”

“Pretending to be someone else so you can kiss a girl?” Jinx huffed like an angry bull. “Asshole move! Just sayin’!”

“Uh-huh…” Vi agreed, mostly just bewildered.

Powder cleared her throat. “Right… So he left all the notes behind, and since me and my Ekko broke up, I rebuilt the thingamajig, but, well, a bit wrong. Long story short, I popped out right by J with my equipment fried.”

“And she threw up before she'd even said hi!” Jinx grinned.

“Interdimensional travel isn't easy on the stomach, alright?” Powder bonked Jinx's head with hers. “We're unsure how much time passed between Trouble getting to Bilgewater and me arriving. She was kind of… feral, I guess would be the right word.”

“It was hate at first sight,” Jinx sighed dreamily. “And yet she stuck with me like a lost puppy.”

“Well, I was lost,” Powder pointed out.

“You seem close now, though?” Vi said, scratching the back of her neck. “Like… twins, or something.”

Jinx barked with laughter while Powder shook her head so rapidly it was a wonder she didn't get a whiplash.

“Not twins! Two completely different people that happen to be the same person!”

Jinx cackled like a madwoman while Powder tried to explain.

“Completely different lives, traumas, personalities, we're– we’re alternate versions of each other, more like looking into a misshaped mirror, really!”

“For a while I was sure I'd hallucinated her,” Jinx finally said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

“She bit me during one of the first ‘realness checks’,” Powder scoffed as she raised her hand where a faint bite-shaped scar was still visible.

“You say it like it's a bad thing, and yet you loooove it when I–”

“Snip that fuse before you regret it, Chatterbomb,” Powder warned. Jinx mimed zipping her mouth shut with an innocent giggle.

Vi looked from one to the other, trying to comprehend whatever the fuck was going on.

“So you hated each other…”

“Yup!” Jinx nodded.

“And now you're…” She motioned to the couch where Jinx practically sat sideways in Powder's lap.

“You know how you look in the mirror and hate everything about what you see?” Jinx spoke too cheerfully for the words she was saying. “All that self-loathing, reminders of what's wrong with you, of how you fucked up? Well, imagine that it can talk, and follow you around, and constantly poke at all that you hate about yourself, like sticking fingers in an open wound!”

“How flattering,” Powder grumbled.

“I was the same to you, Bluebell. You were fuckin’ terrified of what you could've been!”

“Your, uh, emotional state at the time didn't make things easy, that's for sure…”

“So… How did you get past that?” Vi raised an eyebrow. “Because you look like you got past that.”

“We talked–”

“We stopped talking,” Jinx cut Powder off, booping her nose. “Talking didn't work out, so we stopped tryin’. But we stuck together. Kept each other warm at night. Helped. Reminded each other of the things we like about ourselves.”

Powder's face softened into a fond smile. “You finally let me work with you on your arm. You let yourself accept help. That's when we started talking, really talking, wasn't it?”

“And, fuck, there was so much to talk about when I let myself listen…” Jinx trailed off, cupping Powder's cheek in a gloved hand.

“Your arm?” Vi echoed, her brain slowly frying at the honestly weird energy she was beginning to notice.

“Oh, right! The bomb blew my arm off,” Jinx said like it was some tiny detail not worth remembering.

“What?”

Jinx took the glove off her left hand to reveal a metal prosthesis. Then she shook the cloak off and pulled up the long sleeve of a torn-up, loose crop-top, revealing more metal that reached up to her elbow, covered in colourful doodles. As the sleeve rose further, it revealed blue, lightning-like scarring—it could pass for a companion piece to the cloud tattoos on the other arm if Vi wasn't familiar with someone who happened to have a similar scar.

“It's our dominant hand, so J struggled for a while without it. Especially when trying to build a prosthesis on her own, like the stubborn gremlin she is…”

“Don't make it so dramatic, Bluebell,” Jinx rolled her eyes. “We're practically ambidextrous.”

“You lost half an arm,” Vi rubbed her face. “And didn't even bother to tell me? What the hell, Jinx?”

“I kinda forgot about it,” Jinx said with a shrug, rolling her sleeve down and putting the glove back on. “It's been three years, it's just how it is now. I don't think about it, especially since Pow made it work so well.”

With the glove on, Jinx's fingers moved so naturally Vi wouldn't have given it a second thought.

“Okay.” She leaned back, rubbing her temples. “Okay, so you built the arm and had some bonding time. Why did it take you three fucking years to let me know you're alive?”

“If it were just up to me, I wouldn't have showed up at all,” Jinx said nonchalantly. “It's better that I'm not here. I had to not be here. Here is just…” She paused, sighed.

“It's too much, Vi. Too painful. I got a… conscience now,” she motioned to Powder with a nod of her head, “and I… I’m bad for here, and here is bad for me. I kinda started to figure my shit out when the new perspective dropped into my life. Like… there really is a good version of me. It got me all fucked up for a while.”

“Hey. Not a good version,” Powder scolded.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jinx muttered. “A better adjusted version. A version with a healthier support network. Whatever.”

“Then why did you come back?” Vi whispered, feeling like she'd just got punched in the gut.

“Bluebell here wanted to see her sister all grown up.”

“Okay, you keep saying stuff like that.” Vi narrowed her eyes. “But am I not a mechanic in your world?”

Jinx and Powder looked at each other, then at Vi again.

“In her world, you died during that job that started everything,” Jinx finally said. “When the building blew up because we dropped the gemstone.”

Vi grabbed the bottle and took a swig. “Ekko told me I was a mechanic.”

Powder let out a soft “oh”.

“Well, he lied,” Jinx said with a shrug. “Anyways, Pow got so annoying about visiting you in the past few months, I said fuck it and made it our anniversary trip.”

“I'm dead and the world is better… because of it?” Vi stared somewhere past the wall.

“It's not better!” Powder quickly disagreed, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “I– I lost you. A world without you will never be better than the world with you, Vi!”

Vi opened her mouth. Closed it. For a while she just sat there, like a fish out of water. Silent. Thinking. In the world she died, her whole family lived. Happily.

Holy shit.

“Ooookay,” Jinx said slowly. “Yeah, I can see why he'd lie about that now.”

“Vi, I'm serious,” Powder insisted. “I'd trade the world to have my sister back.”

“She'd literally abandoned her world to be in this dumpster fire just to see you. Her great plan was to hijack my body and spend time with you.”

Silence.

“Okay. Well. If I break her again, do you think it'll fix her?”

“What do you mean…? Wait, you don't mean–”

“Hey, Vi! I've been dating Powder for nearly exactly two–”

Powder smacked her hand over Jinx's mouth. “What part of ‘easing her into it’ did you not understand, J?” she hissed.

“You… what…?” Vi asked weakly as Jinx wrestled Powder’s hand away from her mouth.

“Hey, she's speakin’ again. I fixed her!” Jinx declared proudly.

“Kindred, strike me down…”

“She'd figure it out soon enough,” Jinx pointed out. “I'm not the subtle type and you know it, Bluebell.”

“I…” Fortunately, the alcohol was starting to work its magic, and Vi found it easier to detach from whatever that clusterfuck of information was. “I just wanna make sure I’m hearing this right… You—” she pointed at Jinx, then swivelled to Powder, “—and you… are together. Dating. Each other.”

Jinx grinned wildly. “Yup! It's real gay and real confusing!”

Powder pinched the bridge of her nose with a quiet groan.

“You're dating… yourself.” Vi continued.

“Yeah, turns out I'm pretty hot,” Jinx continued despite being smacked on the shoulder. “And, let's be real, I'm the only person insane enough to date me.”

“Not insane,” Powder interjected. “Complicated.”

“Crazy and insane,” Jinx nodded with a grin.

“It's… it's not like we planned it,” Powder said quickly, seeing the way Vi looked at them. “We just naturally grew close over a few months. Like people do. Before they decide to date.”

Vi's eyes turned to Jinx, hoping that she'd laugh at her for being so gullible. Jinx, instead, seemed to settle a little. Like she was getting serious.

“We’re different enough for it not to feel like kissing a mirror,” she said softly. “Not just physically, but… She never became Jinx. I couldn't stay Powder. It makes us so much different…”

“… But still similar enough to understand each other like no one else would,” Powder picked up where Jinx trailed off. “We can be honest about everything–”

“–Because we can tell when the other is lying anyways,” Jinx cut in helpfully.

“Because there aren't things that feel too personal,” Powder continued, brushing a strand of hair from Jinx's face. “And it's… it’s healing—finding things you love in your alternate self means noticing and accepting things about yourself you've never thought about, or maybe even hated…”

Vi blinked. She looked down at their hands—Jinx put hers in Powder's, and Powder interlaced their fingers like it was the most natural thing to do.

“Not gonna lie,” Vi muttered. “This… this is weird as hell.”

They all went silent for a while, the only noise in the room clicking and ticking of different devices, and Jax's wagging tail.

Vi sank into her chair more as she watched her sister… sisters? She had no clue what Powder was to her in this weird, convoluted reality of Jinx dating herself-not-herself.

“I guess…” she finally spoke, her voice flat. “Out of everyone in my life, if I were to vote for the most likely to date themself, it would be you, Jinx.”

“‘Cause I hear things?” Jinx scoffed, pretending to take offence. “Nobody in my head's dateable, just so you know.”

“That's– that’s not what I said,” Vi grumbled.

“Actually,” Powder piped up, apparently desperate to move away from the topic at hand, “we've been working on the voices stuff! Since I have, uh, healthier coping skills, and some tricks work for J, too!”

“Wait, you've got the…” Vi motioned to her own head, finger circling in the air. “The complicated stuff goin’ on?”

“Yup!” Jinx grinned. “Fun, right? Means we either were born crazy, or got it before all the bad shit went down in this universe.”

“My running theory is that it happened on the bridge, since that's one of our most prominent childhood memories,” Powder mused. “And it's pretty similar for the both of us.”

“Maybe it runs in the family,” Vi muttered. Both versions of her sister looked at her curiously.

“What do you mean?” they asked at the exact same time.

“Guys, you gotta stop doing that. Please.”

“Sorry,” said Powder.

“Nope!” said Jinx, at the exact same time.

“Bluejay, I know you find it amusing…”

“It's the funniest shit, and you love it.”

Powder sighed. “Yeah…”

“Anyways, did you join the looney bin or what, Vi?” Jinx asked, now restlessly playing with Powder's hand.

“Not a looney bin,” Powder grumbled.

Vi rubbed her forehead with the heel of her palm. She briefly wondered what Caitlyn was doing—maybe having a normal lunch with normal tea and normal coworkers. What a concept.

“Well, if I weren't in the looney bin yet, I sure will be after today,” she muttered with a deep sigh.

“We know it's a lot to process,” Powder said apologetically. “I… thought we’d go easier on the details at first.”

With that, she shot Jinx a chastising look.

“What?” Jinx batted her lashes innocently. “I've been easy on the details. I didn't even talk about how fun—”

“Think twice, Chatterbomb.”

Jinx bit back a way-too-smug grin, lifting her hands in mock surrender.

Vi's eye twitched.

“But that's enough ‘bout us!” Jinx shifted around the couch until her legs were flung over the armrest and her head rested in Powder's lap. “How's life, Vi? Two dogs, a workshop… Sure, not as exciting as going through a literal self-love journey, but you've been busy, huh?”

Vi leaned forward, elbows on her knees, hands rubbing at her face as she sighed. “Yeah, sure, let's talk about me. Why not.”

“Hey.” Jinx pointed at Vi, eyes narrowed. “I'm serious. Powder missed out on all that sister bondin’ with you, least you could do is give us a rundown.”

“To be fair,” Powder added quieter, “J missed out on the sister bonding too.”

Jinx opened her mouth to disagree.

“No, fighting is not bonding.”

Jinx pouted. “It is. A little,” she grumbled, pinching the air. “And we hugged at least five times. That's gotta count for something.”

“That's what boosts your non-existent relationship up to a dysfunctional relationship.”

“Get a load of this smartass, Vi,” Jinx scoffed. “She thinks we're dysfunctional. I think we got to a slightly-functional-if-you-squint-real-hard relationship level before I faked my death.”

Powder sighed, shaking her head and looking to the skies, and Vi could immediately tell it wasn't the first time they were having that conversation. She knew that sigh. Caitlyn did it too.

Despite herself, Vi let out a small breath of a laugh, then glanced between the two versions of her sister. It was so uncanny to watch them—Jinx was lazily kicking her feet over the armrest, splayed like a cat in sunlight across Powder's legs. All the while Powder traced soft shapes along Jinx's skin absentmindedly.

It probably should've made her skin crawl. But despite how weird it was, despite how confused it made her, looking at those get along was… comforting.

It's Jinx now. Powder fell down a well, a faint voice whispered in Vi’s ear. She blinked.

Maybe Jinx embracing Powder—emotionally and literally—was a good thing after all.

Jinx tilted her head—upside down in Powder’s lap—and raised an eyebrow at Vi.

“So?” she said again, softer this time. “You gonna tell us what you’ve been up to, sis?”

Vi stared at the floor for a moment before speaking.

“You know, when you died—”
Her voice caught. She rolled her jaw, corrected herself. “When I thought you died… I kind of broke.”

Jinx frowned slightly, shifted in Powder's lap.

Vi continued.

“It felt… awful. It was just all awful for a while. When I healed enough to finally be able to do shit, I threw myself at anything that took my mind off of every way I've failed you…” she cut herself off, scratching the back of her neck. She could see the worry on Powder's face. The guilt on Jinx's.

“But if we're talking about big life changes,” she quickly switched her tone to more upbeat, motioning around. “This place. Rebuilt it with Ekko as a side project while he taught me all that tinkering stuff. Got the dogs after your funeral… Jax here is a purebred Zaunite. Followed me around ‘til I convinced Cait to take him in.”

“Okay…” Jinx muttered, reaching her hand out to pet him gently and uncertainly. “Maybe you ain't that bad.”

“He learned to open doors on day two and ate half of Cait's shoes,” Vi added. “She wanted him out, I convinced her to keep him.”

“Oh. Now I like you. Good boy!” Jinx scratched his head more firmly. He turned to his side, then twisted part way to his back, tail wagging.

“Cait insisted we take Onyx,” Vi added. “She'd been keeping Jax company, tiring him out before he got all destructive and a menace.”

Jinx's eyebrows pulled together. She scanned Vi's face as she slowly asked, “Did you name your dog after me?”

“Um… I mean…”

“Oh gods,” Powder whispered, “she named her dog after you. Because he's a menace. That's so sweet.”

“He did mess with Cait a lot. Felt fitting,” Vi shrugged a little.

“Are you still with her?” Powder tilted her head curiously. “The infamous Caitlyn Kiramman. I've heard many stories from a very unreliable source.”

“Nothin’ I said about her was an outright lie,” Jinx murmured.

“I'm sure, Bluejay,” Powder said teasingly, booping her nose. Jinx playfully snapped her teeth at the finger, pretending to bite.

“Yeah.” A soft smile entered Vi's face. “We actually got married nearly two years ago.”

“Married?!” Jinx shot up to her feet at a superhuman speed, eyes glowing bright pink. She cleared the distance in a blink of an eye and grabbed Vi by the shoulders, shaking her violently. “The fuck you mean—married?! The fuck you mean—married?!”

Vi grabbed Jinx by the arms trying to prevent getting a whiplash.

“THE FUCK YOU MEAN—MARRIED?!”

“Bluejay! Hey! Let go!” Powder was by Jinx's side just a moment later, putting her arms around her in a hug-like restraint. “Calm down, calm down—”

“She's married to the cop!” Jinx snapped, though she let go, allowing Powder to hold her back. “And didn't even invite me to the wedding!”

“You were dead???” Vi lifted her arms, befuddled.

“So????”

“Was I supposed to send an RSVP to your headstone?!”

“You didn't?!”

Vi stared at her sister—her glowing-eyed, emotionally unpredictable, un-dead sister—still not entirely convinced this entire scene wasn't some stress-induced dream-hallucination.

“I went to your grave after. Lit a few candles ‘n all.”

“Candles,” Jinx repeated flatly like she'd been mortally offended. “Lit candles. That's so boring.”

“Hey, there's nothing wrong with candles,” Powder muttered into her hair. As Vi massaged the back of her neck, she realised that Powder was slightly taller than Jinx.

“I would’ve made a killer ghost appearance!” Jinx continued rambling, struggling but not quite trying to break Powder's grip. It was like she was flailing just to make a point. “You could’ve had an empty chair with my name on it! Some dramatic speech! At the very least you could’ve rigged some stuff to make it look like my ghost was there!”

“I was still grieving! Didn't feel like making jokes involving your ghost!” Vi shouted back, exasperated.

Powder gently steered Jinx back towards the couch. “Okay, okay, come on, Trouble. Sit. Breathe. Enough shouting, alright?”

“Gods, I would've made the whole thing unforgettable,” she huffed, finally slumping backward against the cushions with a defeated growl. “Doves exploding into confetti. Glitter-and-smoke grenades to set the mood. Find the bomb before it explodes wedding game. A murder mystery. Cait would've loved a murder mystery.”

Vi dragged a hand over her face, somewhere between a laugh and a tired groan. She felt like she'd just aged ten years.

Jinx crossed her arms on her chest, sulking like a kid who just found out they missed the dessert.

“… Was it nice? The wedding,” Powder asked softly, sitting down next to Jinx. Apparently it was her turn now to drape her legs over the other's as she put one foot on the couch and the other in Jinx's lap.

Vi took a breath to calm down. Despite the chaos, remembering her wedding day quickly brought a smile to her face.

“Yeah… Yeah, it was. We got married in Cait's favourite park. She used to go there with her…” Her eyes lingered on Jinx. “… Mother.”

Jinx’s arms dropped from her chest, fingers now drumming on Powder's thigh.

“She said it was the only place they never argued,” Vi continued. “It's a really beautiful place—massive trees, beds of flowers, a buncha statue-wind chimes, fountains, even a pond. The weather was great all day long, Cait looked… stunning.”

She closed her eyes, remembering the white and gold of her dress, the way her heart pounded when she watched her wife-to-be walk down the aisle with her father by her side…

“The ceremony was small, only the closest friends. Ekko was my best man, Mel Medarda came all the way back from Noxus just to be Cait's bridesmaid…”

Powder shifted at the mention of Ekko, then rested her chin on Jinx's shoulder.

“We wrote our own vows,” Vi added, voice quieter. “I nearly broke down halfway through mine. Cait just… held my hand and waited ‘til I could say it right.”

Jinx tilted her head, genuinely interested. “What’d you say?”

Vi looked at her—at both of them. One she'd buried three years ago. One she'd not seen in a decade. Two different paths, seemingly so distant from each other, somehow converging in one spot on her couch.

She gave a faint shrug.

“That I've been fighting most of my life to protect my loved ones,” she said after a short pause. “That with her, I don’t have to fight alone anymore because we protect each other. That being by her side felt like warm sunlight on a bruised body—even though I was still hurting, I could finally feel why life was worth living.”

Jinx blinked rapidly, then her gaze darted to the side. “Gross,” she groaned, overly dramatic. “Too sappy. I’m gonna throw up.”

Powder bumped her shoulder with hers, smiling. “It's just us here, Bluejay. It's okay.”

Jinx shifted in place, visibly on the verge of letting herself express something sincere. Her fingers twitched in Powder's lap, jaw clenching.

Vi raised an eyebrow. “Jinx? You okay?”

Jinx blinked harder, looking anywhere but at her sister. “I mean—” she paused. “… Whatever. Big whoop. You wear matching rings and fill taxes together and stuff. Cute.”

“She means she's genuinely happy for you. We both are,” Powder translated, reaching over to take Jinx’s restless hand.

“Thanks,” Vi replied, her face softening. “It means a lot.”

She watched as Powder squeezed Jinx's hand gently. Jinx turned hers to interlace their fingers together. They shared a quick look, one that Vi didn't really understand.

In the silence of the room, Jinx wavered, then glanced at Vi from the corner of her eye.

“I guess you… actually did it, huh?” she finally rasped in a soft murmur. “After everything. You got the happy ending.”

The corners of Vi’s lips lifted in a gentle smile. “Yeah. I guess I did.”

“That's…” Jinx exhaled slowly and turned her head to face her sister again, to look her in the eyes. “You deserve it, Vi. You deserve to be happy. Hope you know that.”

“You deserve to be happy too, Jinx,” Vi replied without hesitation. “Both of you do.”

The two of them tensed slightly, studying her face as if trying to decipher her.

Vi nodded at them, at their entwined hands. “And… It looks like you are. I'm glad.”

In the quiet that followed, both versions of her sister seemed to relax, shifting closer to one another. Vi’s leg started to bounce as she rubbed her chin, thinking.

“I’ve got space,” she said suddenly.

Powder and Jinx focused on her before both asked, “What?”

“My place,” Vi said, a little awkward now, thrown off by the overlapping voices. “It's big, in the Promenade district. Got a spare guest room. You can stay.”

“Are you serious?” Powder asked softly, her voice careful. “You’d be okay with us staying there? With you?”

“Together? Under the same roof?” Jinx added more sceptically, narrowing her eyes like Vi might suddenly come to her senses and revoke her offer.

“Yeah,” Vi said confidently, sitting up straighter. “Really. I don't know how long you're planning to stay, but you’re here. I want to spend time with you.”

For a long moment, neither Jinx nor Powder said anything. They just looked at her—Powder soft-eyed and warm, Jinx wide-eyed like she was trying not to crumble under the weight of being accepted.

“Okay, I gotta leave a note and then we can go.” Vi groaned and stood up, stretching her arms overhead. “Cait’s gonna have a field day with you two. Please don't give her a heart attack.”

“Can't promise anything,” Jinx said sweetly.

“No,” Powder snapped firmly, squeezing Jinx's hand again. “Vi is letting us stay at her place. We'll be their guests. It means we respect them and their space, Trouble.”

“Blegh,” Jinx replied, undignified. “You know I don't do respect.”

Chapter Text

It's been three years since the War for Piltover. Three years since Caitlyn stepped down and passed her seat on the Council to Sevika.

Three years since she'd become the sheriff.

Three years since she'd lost her eye.

Most importantly, it's been three years by Vi's side. And that—that—was what made everything worth it.

All the pain, all the sleepless nights, for Vi she'd go through it again in a heartbeat.

In those three years, her job had aged her ten. Taking care of the dead, injured and displaced, rebuilding Piltover, giving aid to Zaun… That was just the first few months.

When she became the sheriff, to say Vi wasn't happy would be quite the understatement.

They argued, they tried to talk it out like adults—while Caitlyn tried to reason with her, Vi spoke with her feelings. And she had every right to.

Instead of fighting, Cait worked with her. Criticism turned into suggestions. What can I do to change it, she asked herself.

There'd been many reforms in the past three years. Still, it wasn't enough. Caitlyn knew it. She knew big changes such as those came in slow.

But they came. And things had changed.

Stillwater had a rehabilitation programme now. All the prisoner records had been reviewed. Lesser crimes had been pardoned.

Enforcers went through demilitarisation. Now, the military branch was separated from the law Enforcers. And they had no right to enter Zaun without Councillor Sevika's consent.

The Firelights took their place in Zaun—but they weren't a mirror image of the law enforcement of Piltover. They operated on the community level, providing resources instead of using force.

Mostly.

It wasn't perfect by any means. The chembarons still reigned supreme, and corruption ran deep on both sides of the river.

But they were rooting it out bit by bit.

She grew closer with Ekko due to their cooperation. Surprisingly, she grew closer with Sevika, too. The woman refused to take off that bulky arm Jinx had made for her before she…

Disappeared.

Caitlyn had an inkling that Jinx was alive. She might've escaped through the Hexgates’ vents.

She didn't share that theory with anybody. Because she had no concrete proof, and breaking everyone's heart with empty hopes was something she desperately wanted to avoid.

She kept her eye on the world wide news, though. Looking for any mentions of a blue-haired maniac.

Vi was getting better, slowly. She'd probably never fully stop grieving, but for the past few months she'd been doing better. Her hallucinations started to recede, she told her recently.

Things were looking up.

She wished she could show her mother the life they’ve been building.

She wished she could talk her problems over with Jayce.

Her father sobbed at her wedding. He sobbed when they'd moved out of the Kiramman mansion to Zaun, too.

The whole East wing of the mansion had been remodeled into a museum for Zaun, a memorial, a place where the Piltovans could learn about their sister city.

Learn everything. Even the ugly parts that Piltover had caused.

She, Vi and their father met for family dinners once a week. Often at their apartment.

It was a nice little place—cozy, but with enough space for the both of them, and the dogs, and even guests.

They'd turned it homey instantly, with silly fridge magnets, matching towels, soft carpets, and an insane amount of potted plants.

Vi set up a home gym. Cait covered her office in corkboards.

Caitlyn had been taking more time off lately—that is, she was trying not to work when she was supposed to not be at work. She still failed half the time, but Vi had been concerned about her health for a while now, and she wasn't wrong.

She was working herself to the bone. And to an early grave.

That’s why she’d left the precinct only thirty minutes after the end of her shift.

The lights were off when she entered, there was no sound of paws on the wooden flooring to greet her. Vi wasn’t home yet.

Caitlyn hung her coat in the closet by the door, put her boots on the shoe rack, and headed to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable than work clothes—sweats and Vi’s shirt were always the go-to.

Alone at home.

She could go to her office and finish up the—

“You’re off the clock,” she reminded herself out loud. Workaholism wasn’t healthy, she’d discovered. But old habits die hard.

Instead, she thought about taking a long, hot bath. Not something she’d do without Vi—or at the very least without the dogs present. Fogged up mirrors still made her skin crawl, even if she tried to pretend she was fine.

But Vi always made her feel safe. And the dogs would alert her to any potential intruders.

Still. It’s been three whole years, and Jinx was either dead or very far away. So she did it. For the first time in three years, she let herself relax in the safety of her home, even though it was empty. And it felt… nice.

The anxiety was still there, and she cut it short when it started growing. But she did it. With a towel on her head, she cleared fog off the mirror, and she felt proud.

She was air drying in the living room when she heard the lock turn. With paws hitting the wood, and a couple greeting barks, two dogs were at her feet in seconds. Two cold, wet snouts rested against her leg, tongues lolled out and tails wagging fast against the coffee table.

“Don’t break your tail, Jax,” she said in just a touch babying voice as she put her book down and turned her attention to her little, furry bundles of joy..

“Welcome home, darling,” she called out, hearing quick steps in the hallway.

Vi looked like she’d run up the stairs. Her face, Caitlyn noticed, was painted equally with guilty uncertainty and buzzing joy. The kind of look she’d give her when she’d already did something she really wanted to, but wasn’t sure how she’d react.

Like back when she brought Jax home. And he ate her shoes.

She said the same words then as she was saying now:

“Okay, don’t freak out, but—”

The door swung open, hitting the doorstopper with a loud thud.

“Careful!”

“Yeah, yeah. Where to drop the food, Vi?”

Caitlyn watched as Vi’s eyes shifted to the door, then returned to her with that puppy look, already begging for forgiveness, or at the very least for understanding.

Because that voice was Jinx’s Cait’d recognise it anywhere. The pitch, the rasp, the cadence—it lived in the part of her brain she desperately boxed up and stomped into the darkest corners.

She didn’t hate Jinx anymore, not in that I-want-my-revenge way. From talking with Vi and Ekko, she’d learned more about who Jinx’d used to be back when she was Powder. From Ekko and Sevika, she’d learned more about Jinx’s time as Silco’s daughter.

It was humanising, to say the least. Helping Vi deal with her hallucinations was eye-opening for both of them.

Still, it was an explanation, and not an excuse.

Even if she considered the fact that Jinx was raised to kill by a drug lord, even if Caitlyn agreed that the Council needed a wake-up call, and that her own poor decisions when pursuing Jinx lead to rerouting of the Grey…

Jinx had kidnapped her from her own house. Jinx had killed her mother. And that didn’t go away just because she was in an altered state of mind, or doing what she thought was right. The wounds didn’t heal just because she could empathise now.

And now, a blue-haired head popped out from behind the corner. The rest of Jinx followed, holding takeout boxes like a flimsy peace offering.

Caitlyn barely pushed herself up before Jinx spoke:

“You proooobably wanna stay seated for this one, Cupcake.”

“Don’t call her that,” Vi hissed.

“Huh.” Jinx paused, looking intently at Cait's face. “I remember you havin’ more eyes—”

Vi smacked her over the head. Jinx’s lips curled into an innocent smile as she shrugged.

Caitlyn looked at the two sisters standing at the edge of the living room in bewilderment. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish on the docks as she tried to find any words in the thoughts that raced through her mind at bullet speed.

“Jinx,” she finally said. “You’re… here. At my house.”

Her eye turned to Vi.

“At our house. Alive. With takeout.”

“Yup,” Jinx agreed with a bobblehead nod. “Very observant. Speakin’ of, let’s get eatin’ before it goes cold, hm?”

“Well,” Vi said, not meeting Caitlyn’s gaze while she scratched the back of her neck, “There’s one more thing.”

“Can I come in?” came a quiet voice that somehow sounded like Jinx.

Vi nodded without conviction, and from behind the corner leaned… another Jinx.

Caitlyn was glad she was sitting.

“Hiya, I’m Powder,” the Other Jinx said with a polite wave and a smile. “You must be Caitlyn. I’ve heard…” she paused for a beat, her eyes turning to Jinx, “… things. But I’m sure most were blown out of proportion!”

She came up to shake Caitlyn’s hand, and Jinx looked like she was biting back a laugh.

“Powder’s me from another universe,” she offered helpfully. “The less fucked up version.”

Cait shook Powder’s hand, half-dazed.

“Not the less fucked up version,” she corrected firmly, throwing Jinx a look that made her shrug a little and glance away. “I understand that this is quite unusual…”

Something clicked in Caitlyn’s head.

“You’re from the alternate timeline Ekko had been transported to a few years ago, aren’t you? The timeline in which Hextech had never been invented.”

“Yes!” Powder nodded like a bobblehead. “That’s where I came from after this world’s Ekko had left. I just… didn’t get it exactly right,” she admitted, turning her head to Jinx.

“She popped up right next to me, blah, blah, blah, now we’re here,” Jinx added. “Food! Haven’t had Jericho’s in years!”

And just like that, Jinx cleared the couch and landed with her feet on the seat. Her socks had holes in them, Caitlyn noticed. As though it were just another normal day, she took the greasy boxes out the bag, arranging them on the table in a chaotic pattern.

Powder sat right next to her, holding Jax’s curious nose at bay.

Vi padded over to the armchair Cait was sitting at and crouched next to her.

“So, um… that happened today.” She nodded towards the two versions of her sister. “How was your day, Cupcake?”

Caitlyn sat in silence for a moment, blinking from Jinx and Powder to Vi. “… Pretty boring, in comparison,” she finally said.

“Got you food,” Vi offered with a smile that didn’t hide her nerves, grabbing one of the boxes.

“If there are two of you now,” Cait let her thoughts float out, taking the box of grilled fish and vegetables coated in a thick, tangy, yellowish sauce off Vi’s hands, “what does that mean for this universe?”

The two looked up at her at the same time, then asked in unison: “What d'you mean?”

Caitlyn shuddered. It sounded haunting hearing the same voice layered atop each other.

“You were supposed to cut that out,” Vi immediately scolded.

“Sorry, sorry,” Powder quickly apologised. Jinx just giggled before stuffing a handful of small, batter-covered, deep-fried fish in her mouth.

“I mean,” she tried to ignore how uncanny talking to the two of them was, “that you aren't supposed to be here.”

Jinx shot her a dangerous glare.

Caitlyn noticed the way Powder immediately placed her hand on Jinx's knee without even looking. In response, Jinx slowly turned her gaze away and filled her mouth with more food.

“I'm not from this timeline, so…” Powder nodded. “I guess you're right.”

“And you've presumably used an anomaly to get here.”

“The weird space-goop ball? Yeah.”

“Does that mean that a new anomaly has been placed somewhere in this universe, and we should expect another city-sized explosion?”

Powder opened her mouth. Closed it. Looked back at Jinx for an answer.

“Got no clue how that shit works, Bluebell,” she said with a shrug. “But we're not phasin’ through walls and splittin’ in ‘n out of this reality. Everythin's normal. And you are supposed to be here.”

It didn't slip Caitlyn's attention how Jinx put her hand on Powder's when she said that.

They must've been… very good friends.

“But there is an imbalance between our worlds now,” she pressed nonetheless. “How do we know there aren't any dangerous side-effects—”

“We don't,” Jinx snapped. “And we don't give a flyin’ shit.”

“It's been fine for nearly three years,” Powder quickly added with an optimistic lilt. “And I haven't had the means to go back anyway.”

“So…” Caitlyn looked at one, then the other, then their hands that Powder quickly removed like a kid caught stealing cookies. “You're here to create some… alternate-timeline-jumping device, yes?”

Powder gave a non-committal eeeeh.

“We're here ‘cause Pow wanted to see her sister again,” Jinx answered for her.

“What's wrong with the other Vi—”

“She's not a mechanic, that's for sure,” Jinx said.

“Anyways!” Powder cut the conversation short, picking up a box with shrimp slobbered in toxically-bright orange sauce. Jinx snatched one, the sauce dripping on the floor and down her chin. “It's starting to lose the heat, so we better get on it, right?”

She stuffed her mouth with a handful of her food just the way Jinx did before.

“I'm dead there,” Vi whispered by Caitlyn’s side. “Ekko lied ‘bout that part. The family lived because I—”

An unused pair of chopsticks hit Vi square on the forehead.

“Dontcha dare!” Jinx threatened. “You're gonna make Softie cry, and I'll have to beat your ass in your own home!”

“J, it's… I'm f-fine…” Powder’s voice caught a little, but she took a deep breath, held it, released… she was square breathing.

“No, it's not!”

“She doesn't really know—”

“She's gone through hell, y'know—”

“Bluejay,” Powder said quietly yet firmly, “I'm not ready to bring it up.”

If Caitlyn closed her eye, it'd sound like Jinx had completely lost her mind and was arguing with herself.

“… Sorry,” Jinx said, softer, pressing her forehead to the side of Powder’s head.

And then she gave her a kiss.

On the cheek, yes, but it felt incredibly surreal. Caitlyn blinked rapidly, her hand instinctively rubbing slow circles on Vi’s back.

“In any case,” Powder murmured, breaking the heavy silence. She cast her eyes to Vi with a gentle smile. “I love my family, yes. I'm thankful they're alive and doing well for themselves. But I'm so, so damn glad I get to meet you, Vi. Living, breathing, happy… married!”

“Oh, right,” Jinx grumbled. “Guess we're sisters-in-law now, Kitty-Cait. Should hide your—”

Powder shot her a death glare. “No. Stop pushin’ it, Chatterbomb.”

“Right…”

“I'm glad you're alive too, Vi,” Caitlyn said softly, deciding to ignore Jinx's comment. “You know you're my world.”

Sitting on the floor, Vi draped herself over Caitlyn’s legs, head in her lap. Caitlyn ran her fingers through the pinkish-red hair, scratching her wife's scalp just the way she liked it.

In the silence, Cait watched as Jinx found Powder’s hand and their fingers interlaced, while her alternate self gently cleaned her face up with a napkin.

For a moment they stared into each other's eyes, looking like they were about to… kiss…?

That couldn't be right.

Despite herself, Caitlyn started to connect the dots with red yarn in her head: The protectiveness, the nicknames, the closeness, the glances they shared, the fact that Powder wasn't thinking about leaving…

Cait opened her mouth, but said nothing.

Sure, she was right about Jinx being alive. But making such an accusation right to their face… She'd probably make things awkward if she misunderstood. Maybe it was just how two alternate versions of one person interacted. Maybe she'd be close like that with a different herself, too.

It was nothing close to the ordinary, and Caitlyn could only assume that it was… normal—she had no baseline to compare alternate self relationships with, after all.

Caitlyn took a few bites of her meal, actually using chopsticks instead of her hands. She watched the two like they were the most captivating show in Zaun—Jinx stole another shrimp, Powder smacked her gently on the shoulder before snatching a deep-fried fish for herself. She leaned into Jinx, while Jinx licked her own fingers clean like a satisfied cat.

“So,” Cait finally said, grasping for stable ground, “no plans to return to your original timeline?”

“Not unless I figure out a device that doesn't implode on arrival,” Powder said with a little shrug.

“Was thinkin’ of tryin’ out domesticity,” Jinx offered, stretching back, one arm in the air before she rested it around Powder’s shoulders. “Settle in. Blow up a small building or two. Adopt a cat, maybe a pair. Throw knives at the wall when neighbours won't keep it down.”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “Blow up a building?”

“A small one,” Jinx added like it made it any better. “Maybe even without people inside.”

“Definitely without people inside,” Powder corrected.

Jinx groaned like she was being denied fun. “Got anyone to blow up, Kitty-Cait?”

“No, I don't believe so,” she answered carefully.

“J, we’ve talked about it,” Powder scolded.

“We talked ‘bout innocent people. So I'm askin’ for nocent people.” Jinx lifted her chin up and puffed her chest like she was waiting for praise.

Caitlyn sighed. “That's not a real word—”

“Even if they are nocent,” Powder cut in, looking at Jinx, “they should be put on trial and—”

“Yaaaawn.”

“Don’t you dare yawn at me, Trouble!”

Caitlyn's brow furrowed while she watched the two squabble like an old couple.

“It was your idea to be violent only in self-defence,” Powder reminded, and Jinx blushed and looked down like she was embarrassed.

“That's not… it wasn't,” she hissed, grabbing Powder by the wrist and whispering something in her ear.

Caitlyn didn't mean to be nosy… but she still tried to read Jinx's lips and strained to hear her. From what she could make out, Jinx said something about upholding her reputation.

Powder sighed, shaking her head a little. “This place's making you slip, Bluejay,” she whispered.

Cait straightened in her seat. “You’re limiting your… violent tendencies, Jinx? Really?” She didn't mean to sound doubtful, but it came out slightly so.

It was enough for Jinx to shoot up to her feet.

“‘M not! I still blow up shit and… and kill people! I get into fights regularly!”

“She does,” Powder nodded once.

“It's a good thing, you know. To consider people's lives, and consequences of your actions,” Caitlyn said, doing her best I'm proud voice. “It seems that you've grown…”

Jinx looked like she was about to clear the table and lunge at Caitlyn like a hungry panther. Before she did so, Powder grabbed her by the back of her long-sleeved crop top and pulled her into her lap. She locked her in place by wrapping her arms around her midriff.

Jinx tensed, looking like she was about to fight her way out of the restraint, but instead she just sighed and leaned back into Powder.

Caitlyn bit back her presumptions, watching Jinx nuzzle Powder's neck.

Vi let out a slow sigh, finally sitting up to grab a takeout box for herself.

“Things still tend to get physical a few times a week, but she's mostly threatening people now,” Powder said proudly.

“Stoooooopp,” Jinx groaned into her neck. “It's only ‘cause you're always on my ass about it…!”

“You know it’s a good thing, Bluejay.”

Jinx groaned louder, kicking her feet like a petulant child. In response, Powder placed a kiss on the top of her head.

Caitlyn narrowed her eye. She nudged Vi gently, whispering:

“Is it just me, or…”

Jinx perked up, apparently noticing the look on Cait's face. She squirmed around and kissed Powder on the cheek, placed another kiss on her jaw, glanced at Cait again, then she turned her head just enough to graze Powder’s lips with her own.

Not only did Powder let her, but she seemed to lean into it a little.

Caitlyn tried to keep her face straight, biting the inside of her cheek. And Jinx looked at her like she was daring her to ask.

Vi slurped up a slimy, sauce-covered small fish, breaking the beat of silence. She didn't even look up.

“Yeah, so,” she said, chewing. “They're together.”

Cait froze under all the questions and implications of what it meant.

“Aw, come on, Vi,” Jinx said, pretending to be upset. “She was bouta ask herself! You know how deliciously awkward that could've been?”

Caitlyn stared into the middle-distance, unblinking. The spool of red yarn in her brain began to unfurl:

Sometime after Ekko had returned to this universe, and after Jinx had faked her death, Powder transported herself to follow… No, to meet Vi, who had apparently been dead for over a decade in her own universe.

She had been in this universe for nearly three years. At some point, somehow, she… got into a relationship with Jinx, apparently.

What about her Ekko then? Weren't they together? What about her family in the other universe, did they know where she was? How were they planning to live like… that?

What was even their relationship? How did it work? How much the same were they? Did they both experience the same… mental issues?

Jinx was clearly on Shimmer, how did that translate for Powder? If their lives diverged when they were eleven or so, did that make them different people now?

Who was Powder to Vi? Her sister? If so…

Or was it more like a mirror came alive? A kind of self love one would imagine when saying be kinder to yourself, but that yourself was a separate being?

Or was it narcissistic in nature? To some extent, definitely so. But, when Caitlyn thought about Jinx after everything, she'd always pegged her as a self-loathing and not self-loving person.

She lowered her head, massaging her temples as though she could physically rub the logic into place.

"She’s gonna short-circuit,” Jinx whispered, watching Caitlyn with gleeful fascination. “Look at her. Brain’s doin’ flips.”

“Don’t tease her,” Powder murmured, though she sounded vaguely amused.

“You good, Cait?” Vi asked, actually concerned. “You look like you're spiralling.”

“I am not spiraling,” Caitlyn said through gritted teeth, rubbing harder at her temples. “I’m just… processing.”

“I know it's unusual, so… please take your time.” Powder gave Cait a small, encouraging smile, while Jinx pressed her lips to Powder’s cheek with a smirk that suggested she knew she wasn't helping.

Caitlyn finally leaned back in the armchair, letting out a long, heavy sigh through her nose.

“I have… so many questions,” she finally said, her voice brittle.

The corners of Jinx's lips curled up mischievously. “Good. Hope they're weird. Weirder the better!”

“Chatterbomb…” Powder whispered in that I'm warning you tone Caitlyn knew oh so well—because she herself had used it many times in the past.

Cait cleared her throat and attempted something small.

“So… you've been here for about three years…”

“Give or take,” Powder confirmed with a nod.

“Where exactly were you staying all this time?”

“Bilgewater,” Jinx said around the last of her deep-fried fish before taking Powder's shrimp dish and gulping down some of the sauce.

“Greedy,” Powder muttered, taking her meal back and slurping the rest of the sauce.

“Bilgewater?” Caitlyn echoed. “I thought you’d go somewhere… further. Like Demacia.”

Jinx shrugged. “Honestly? It was a toss of a cog. I wasn't really makin’ plans, so hey, who knows, maybe in a different universe I'm datin’ some blonde Demacian chick.”

“Right,” Cait said slowly, voice clipped like she was afraid her words were going to set off a bomb. “Speaking of… You two are… together. Are you actually… dating?”

“Yup,” they answered at the same time. While Jinx giggled, Powder had the decency to give Cait and Vi an apologetic look.

“Tied like two rats in a burlap sack,” Jinx added dreamily, resting her head against Powder’s.

“And you don't think it's…” Caitlyn paused.

“Unorthodox?” Powder offered.

“Deeply unsettling,” she said finally.

Jinx shot her an unamused look. “Yeah. But in a cute way.”

“It's weird,” Vi agreed plainly, “but it’s not… bad. It’s just a little head-spinning at first.”

“A little,” Caitlyn said dryly.

Jinx, now emboldened, flopped sideways onto Powder’s lap, her legs dangling off the couch. “You’ve got your wife,” she said, gesturing lazily between Caitlyn and Vi. “I've got my me. Easy as can be!”

“That's…” Cait pinched the bridge of her nose, failing to see the connection. She let out another long sigh. “I'm just trying to figure out… what are the rules for something like that?”

Jinx gave a short laugh, face split by a wide grin. “That's the best part—there aren't rules!”

Caitlyn opened her mouth. No words came out, so she just ran her fingers through her hair, feeling like some of them had gone grey in the span of this conversation.

“We're not the same person,” Powder said, then bit her lip when Caitlyn gave her a look. “I mean, yes, we are, but we aren't. Does that make sense?”

“It does to me,” Jinx said with a little shrug, kicking her feet while she caught Powder's hand with both of hers, then brought it up to her lips.

She left kiss after kiss along Powder's fingers until she reached the knuckles. Then, she nuzzled into her palm like it was the most normal thing to do.

“Okay…” Caitlyn was trying hard not to judge. “But genetically—”

“Yes,” Powder cut in quickly, as if she’d anticipated that someone would bring it up. “But also not, since she's got Shimmer. Importantly, we haven’t met until I came here, so it's not like we have any familial relationship with each other. We’re… different in so many ways.”

“But similar in many other,” Jinx added, mumbling into Powder’s hand. “It’s self-love, Kitty-Cait. You wake up ‘n do affirmations in the mirror. Then the mirror talks back ‘n it sees your best qualities. And doesn’t let you spiral.”

Cait noticed the way Jinx lost the cockyness mid sentence and instead looked at Powder with affection, like she was looking at someone who saved her from drowning. And Powder watched her right back, her expression soft and… well, loving.

Caitlyn sunk back into the chair, rubbing her face with one hand.

“I mean…” Vi broke the short silence, staring at her meal. “If a parallel version of me showed up, and she had a different life… Like she didn’t sit in prison for seven years, I’d consider her a different person. Wouldn’t see her as my sister either, I think.” Then, she glanced at Cait and added: “I wouldn’t date her, though. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Caitlyn echoed, meeting Vi’s eyes.

“Because I have a wonderful wife,” Vi continued, pausing only to stuff the rest of her food in her mouth and gulp down the sauce. “And would never date anyone else.”

Cait entertained the thought of having two of Vi all for herself for less than five seconds, then quickly snapped out of it.

She tried to imagine an alternate version of herself—what if Grayson hadn’t passed and mentored her for years to come? What if Jayce got banished? How would those Caitlyns be different, and would she see them as siblings?

She didn’t think she would.

“I… suppose it is different,” she said after a long while of awkward silence. “It’s… confusing.”

“Ain’t that what I’ve always been?” Jinx asked with a growing grin.

Powder looked relieved when she glanced up at Caitlyn. “I’m glad you can see it our way, even if it is weird…”

Cait just nodded.

“Soooo,” Jinx drawled, stretching in Powder’s lap. “Where are we stayin’, Vi?”

Caitlyn’s brow furrowed. “What…?”

Vi gave an awkward laugh, only flicking her eyes to Cait. “I offered them the guest room.”

“You what?!”

“They don’t have anywhere to stay, we’ve got room,” Vi said quickly, as if trying to prove it was a good thing. “I— I wanna spend time with them, Cupcake… They’re family”

“We bought toothbrushes on the way!” Jinx declared like it meant the deal had been sealed.

Caitlyn gave Vi a deathglare, but Vi rebutted with those puppy-dog eyes of hers. She could do nothing but groan into her hands.

“If anything explodes or bursts into flames…”

“It won’t,” Powder assured. “J’s been doing better since the last time you’ve seen her, I promise.”

“Mm-hm,” Jinx hummed. “I get rewards when I only daydream about blowin’ shit up, but don’t actually do it. Some real good rewards.” The last part she nearly purred, lifting her hand up to run her fingers along Powder’s jaw.

Caitlyn’s eye twitched.

“… Do I even want to know what those rewards are?” she asked flatly, not quite sure why she did.

“Nope!” Jinx chirped, utterly unbothered. “But now you are imagining it, arentcha?”

“Chatterbomb,” Powder warned under her breath, though there was a hint of color creeping into her own cheeks. “She's makin’ it sound weird on purpose, I promise, it's nothing like what you think,” she explained quickly. “For example, we bake our favourite cookies, and she gets one batch all for herself.”

Jinx groaned like a wounded soldier. “You make me sound soooo lame, Bluebell,” she pouted.

“Then stop making us sound like freaks!”

“We are freaks!”

“But not like— Ugh!” Powder hid her face in her hands.

Vi, clearly trying to defuse the tension before Caitlyn’s twitch became a full-body aneurysm, cleared her throat. “They'll behave. Probably.”

“No promises,” Jinx trilled.

“Yes promises, Trouble,” Powder said firmly. “We'll be good guests.”

Jinx rolled her eyes so hard they looked like they'd fall out of their sockets. In turn, Powder flicked her on the forehead.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Jinx muttered.

Caitlyn closed her eye and took a few long breaths to steady herself.

“Sure. Guest room. Fine,” she finally said. “You get a trial run.” She looked at Jinx specifically, and she responded with the most innocent face she could put on. “I reserve the right to kick you out the moment you cross the line.”

“That sounds reasonable.” Powder nodded. “I mean—it’s your house.”

“Just… don't make me regret this,” she said, looking from Jinx to Powder to Vi.

Vi gave her a small smile and thumbs up.

“We'll clean up after dinner,” Powder offered.

“What?” Jinx's reaction was on par with someone being asked to dig through the sumps. “You're serious?”

Powder pulled Jinx up from her lap, expression unwavering. “Come on, Bluejay. Let's play nice.”

Then, she leaned in and gave Jinx a kiss on the lips. It wasn't showy—just a tender peck that lingered for a few seconds.

It was so unsettling, but Caitlyn tried not to let it show. Still, she noticed a small blush on Jinx's pale face. She saw the faint smile and the way her pink eyes softened.

Quickly, Jinx's face snapped back into a pout. Muttering under her nose about how stupid and unfair it was, she started grabbing empty boxes, actually cleaning.

Jax and Onyx both followed her hands like they could will whatever was left in there to fall on the floor.

“I'll grab you fresh sheets,” Vi muttered, apparently also unsure what to do with that little show of self-love. “You, uh, just rest, Cupcake. We got it all handled.”

“I feel like I should supervise,” Caitlyn murmured when the pair walked out and towards the kitchen.

“They'll be mostly throwing stuff out,” Vi tried to calm her down. “I’m sure they can manage that, and wipe the table clean. Powder seems… responsible.”

Vi's expression shifted to something like pride, and then immediate guilt. Caitlyn stood up and caught her wife's hand in hers.

“It's not your fault, Vi. You know that.”

“I just… I wasn't there for either of them, y'know…” she whispered. “I guess I… It may be selfish, but I wish I could meet Powder who actually grew up with me. But then… What if that Powder turned out worse?” Vi gave a humourless laugh. “I guess we'll never know, huh?”

“Darling…” Caitlyn said softly, pulling her into a hug. She rested her chin against Vi's head, and Vi wrapped her arms around her waist tightly, burying her face into Caitlyn’s warmth.

“It's just… I look at Jinx and I see the kid I've left behind. The kid I've failed. And then there's Powder—a ghost of what could've been… if I died instead,” Vi mumbled, her voice hitching.

“You are here now,” Caitlyn reminded her, voice quiet. “For both of them. And they are here for you. If I understood it correctly, Powder jumped dimensions just so she could meet you, didn't she?”

“What if I disappoint her…?”

“She doesn't seem disappointed at all.” Caitlyn leaned back just enough to look Vi in the eyes. “Actually, I’m suspecting she's holding back a little when speaking to you… You should talk with her at some point, Vi. Really talk with her, without distractions.”

Vi sighed, pressing her forehead against Caitlyn’s shoulder. “Yeah, I… Yeah…”

Cait lifted her wife's chin and placed a kiss on her lips with the kind of tenderness that came only from years of loving each other dearly. Her hand curled gently behind Vi’s neck, her thumb brushing against her skin, as Vi melted into the kiss, the tension in her shoulders finally easing for the first time in hours.

“I love you,” Caitlyn whispered when they pulled away, forehead against forehead.

Vi exhaled softly. “I love you too, Cupcake…”

“Go grab them clean sheets and towels, Violet,” Cait said after a moment. “I'll make sure they don't destroy the kitchen.”

“They probably won't,” Vi tried to reassure again.

Caitlyn wasn't too sure.

So after Vi had walked off, and she took a few more moments to process the situation at hand, Caitlyn strolled towards the kitchen. Her pace quickened when she heard a laugh and wasn't sure if it was Powder or Jinx's.

“Yeah? Take that!”

Cait watched from the entryway as Jinx and Powder wielded a takeout chopstick each, clashing them together like very small swords. Jinx jumped atop a chair, swinging like a swashbuckler, while Powder parried her attacks expertly, giggling like a maniac.

Jinx put one foot on the kitchen counter like she was about to walk it, but Powder took a step back, pointing her weapon.

“People make food on that, Bluejay,” she said like a warning. “Off, now.”

Jinx narrowed her eyes and instead of stepping down like a normal person, she pounced on Powder, bringing her to the ground instead.

It was fast, really fast, but Caitlyn registered that Jinx cushioned Powder’s fall with her own body before sending them into a surprisingly controlled tumble.

Cait cleared her throat when they finally stopped rolling and instead looked like they were about to make out.

They both looked at Caitlyn at the same time—Jinx on top, pinning Powder down with a wild grin, while Powder gripped her by the collar, wide-eyed like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

Both were breathing faster, with their hair and clothes tousled. That was when Cait noticed something new—the metal sheen between the hem of Jinx's sleeve and the end of her glove.

“It—I mean, we—I was being careful,” Powder quickly assured. “She needed to get the energy out—we both did—so, uh—”

Jinx shut her up with a slow kiss that Caitlyn turned her head from because it still felt weird.

“What happened to your arm?” she asked.

With a small huff and a quiet sound of lips parting, she heard what she assumed was Jinx's voice.

“Remember when you shot my finger off, Kitty-Cait? Well!” Caitlyn looked at them again while Jinx pushed herself up, now sitting on Powder's hips.

“I do recall that, yes.”

“I installed a new finger, right?”

“Right,” Caitlyn said slowly, narrowing her eye at Jinx.

“Well, it's been takin’ over my arm through the years!” Jinx explained, seemingly with all the seriousness she could muster. She even took the glove off, moving her clockwork fingers one after another in exaggerated robotic movements.

Caitlyn pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled slowly, resisting the overwhelming urge to ask the universe why her.

“It started with the middle finger, then—BAM—half my hand turned metal before I knew it,” Jinx explained gravely. “We're up to the elbow now. Soon? Soon I'll be a full-on machine.”

Powder groaned under her. “Not that again…”

“You used to love that one!” Jinx pouted like she’d been betrayed.

“M-hm, two years ago, Bluejay… Then, the bit started getting old.”

Jinx flopped off of Powder and onto the cold tiles dramatically. “Betrayed! By a me!”

“Okay, Sparklefuse,” Powder said as she sat up before putting the glove back on Jinx's hand. Jinx moved her fingers swiftly, like it wasn't made of metal at all. “Let's start quietin’ down for the night, alright?”

Jinx let out a long, theatrical sigh.

“We built the arm together,” Powder explained. “After that whole… exploding at the Hexgates situation.”

“Actually,” Jinx said, rolling onto her stomach, cheek against the floor as she looked up at Cait, “she built it. I was just helpin’ as much as a one-handed gal could. It's mostly her design.”

“Well— You—you designed the main parts…”

“I scribbled them on the wall like a lunatic. You made sense of ‘em, Bluebell. You made ‘em work, and you added so much flair.”

“But it's still your—”

Jinx turned her head, and there must've been something in the look she gave Powder, because the girl lowered her head, chewing on her lip.

“Say it,” Jinx whispered.

“I… engineered it. And Jinx helped.”

Jinx turned her head back to Caitlyn, whispering loudly as though Powder couldn't hear her, “She struggles with takin’ credit for her work, poor thing…”

Powder rolled her eyes and smacked Jinx gently on the back. “Get up, Trouble. Let's finish up and get ready for bed. It's been a long day.”

“She's super aware that she's a damn genius,” Jinx continued like she was sharing a secret. “But she gave up on makin’ her own shit just to help some dweebs.”

Caitlyn watched them both without a word. Powder helping people with their projects instead of creating bombs and rockets sounded like a dream. At first.

Then, she remembered the way Ekko and Vi reminisced about the child Powder—before everything. How she always built and created, even then. Even when her inventions didn't work, she came up with new projects, always collecting scrap she could turn into something useful.

From what she was gathering now, this Powder had lost that creativity somewhere. Or maybe she'd buried it, a price of boosting other bright minds in her family.

It was… upsetting, even if she didn't really know Powder personally. It seemed like she felt like she had to give up on herself to assist others.

“Making a prosthetic arm that works so naturally is… really impressive, Powder,” she finally said.

“I know, right?!” Jinx suddenly shot up to her feet and pulled Powder up with her. “My nerdy lil’ genius! My sexy inventor!”

“Stop it,” Powder hissed, turning her head away as she flushed red.

“But you looooove it,” Jinx drawled.

Powder didn’t respond. Instead, she hid her face against Jinx’s shoulder.

Caitlyn gave a long, tired sigh.

“I'll finish cleaning up. You two, out,” she said sharply. “Go to the guest room—third door on the left. Vi's getting it ready for you.”

“We got carried away, but we can finish—”

“Let the woman clean, Bluebell!” Jinx said, grabbing Powder’s hand. “Let's make a nest!”

“I'm really sorry—” Powder started as Jinx started dragging her out the kitchen.

“Nothing is on fire,” Caitlyn interrupted with a shadow of a smile. “Nothing blew up—hell, nothing is broken. You did better than I expected. Keep it up.”

“We will,” Powder nodded.

“We'll see,” Jinx muttered.

Chapter Text

It’s been three years since Ekko threw his Z-Drive at the herald of the apocalypse. Three years since he'd built it with Powder—the girl who reminded him that Jinx had never been a lost cause. The girl he fell in love with.

It's been three years since he'd used the Z-Drive to rewind again and again until Jinx put the bomb down and stepped away from the edge.

Three years since he couldn't save her.

Boy Saviour his ass.

It's been three years since Sevika joined the Council. In all honesty, he didn't expect for it to go anywhere, really—she was just one woman, against a table full of Pilties.

At the very beginning, the people of Zaun were torn—would she become complacent? Would she forget about the Undercity while she sat in the gilded halls of Piltover?

Ekko was sceptical.

But then, he got to work with her.

That woman took no bullshit. She knew her cause, and she did everything she could for it—for Zaun.

He also started working with the sheriff. For a long time, just the thought of it made his skin crawl. He'd heard the stories of what happened when he was stuck in the anomaly.

Caitlyn let Noxus and the Enforcers abuse Zaun, a thin veil of justice covering the real cause—revenge on an individual.

Just to get Jinx, Caitlyn let the Undercity drown.

To her credit, at least she dismantled a lot of Shimmer production. Took down some prominent Chembarons.

New ones popped right up, filling the power vacuum instantly. Getting rid of the greedy, the ones willing to exploit those in need, was like trying to reverse the course of Pilt.

He had the Firelights to take care of. His community. The tree, poisoned by the arcane.

And they kept on taking in new people, because there was always someone in need.

Over two years ago now, Sheriff Kiramman and Councillor Sevika signed a deal. It prohibited Enforcers to go into Zaun armed. Instead, the patrols would be just like those in Piltover—no armour, no helmets and visors. Just batons, fancy uniforms and stupid hats. Non-lethal means of capture.

He helped Caitlyn set up a museum for Zaun in her mansion. There was a section for Firelights, their fight against Shimmer, and the disgraced Sheriff Marcus who worked under Silco's boot.

Vi, Sevika, Zaunite scholars and elders, they all worked together to present everything. The injustice. The hypocrisy. The abuse.

Caitlyn used it—and the shifting public opinion—as her leverage to reform the way Enforcers operated in general. Reform Stillwater. Release anyone imprisoned unjustly.

A year and a half ago, the Firelights became the Community Peacekeepers, and with grants from the Council, they've been working on ways to prevent violent crime before it happened. Shelters, education, food banks, maintenance, addict rehab, hospitals—those were only some of the things they worked on providing for more and more of Zaun. The hope was that giving people what they needed not just to survive, but to live would slowly lower the crime rate.

Life was busy, but he found time to live, too. He taught Vi how to tinker, how to fix things. At those times, he felt like a kid again. Like they were at Benzo’s and he was showing Vi how a clock looks on the inside.

She got frustrated. They boxed to let the energy out.

They rebuilt The Last Drop into The Last Cog.

He was the best man at her wedding. He said it was stupid that a dog was the ring bearer, but Onyx ended up looking dashing in a bowtie, and she held impressively still.

He pretended he got something in his eye when Violet and Caitlyn kissed at the altar. They made a really good looking pair.

He was drunk after. He went to Jinx’s grave and poured one out for her.

Ekko was the kind of a person who'd rather focus on here and now, on doing what was needed, keeping the future in mind.

Sometimes he thought about rebuilding the Z-Drive, though. Stronger. Strong enough to go back months.

With every day, his goal moved further and further away.

He had mostly given up by now. He knew he couldn't bring her back. He knew it was the time to take a leap forward, to move on.

In a bittersweet way, the fact that somewhere out there—if not in this world, then in a different one—Jinx was alive and happy made dealing with all the thoughts about what could've been easier, in a way.

That didn’t mean they disappeared, though. He still found himself thinking—about Jinx, about Powder.

After he came back, he brought Jinx to the hideout. She barely ate or slept or talked, throwing herself at any work she could find, like if she let herself sit alone with her thoughts, she'd break into a million tiny pieces.

She didn't look at the Firelight memorial, at least not when people were around. He'd seen her working on Rhino outside, under the tree.

She didn't talk with the Firelights. The Firelights didn't talk with her. That time was tense—he knew well that some despised her, some feared her, and some were torn between respecting the symbol she'd become, and hating the person she used to be.

Fortunately, the war was the priority then.

Convincing people to help topside was… not the easiest task. Not until it turned out that nobody wanted Noxus on their ass, and Piltover suddenly seemed like the better of two evils.

When working on taking Jinx's workshop to the skies, Ekko couldn't help but remember Powder. How they worked together at her workshop—so familiar, yet so different.

He remembered that it brought them closer.

It brought him and Jinx closer just the same.

Well.

Not exactly the same. But they re-established some of what they'd lost.

She opened up about Isha. He was there to listen. To support her. To help her turn that balloon into a memorial.

He cut her hair. She actually laughed about how shitty of a job he did, and that was when Ekko made a massive mistake:

He let himself be optimistic.

He let himself think they'd survive. That she could be Powder again. That everything could be rebuilt. That this universe could be good, too.

And then, Jinx was gone.

Just like that, she sacrificed herself to save Vi.

Well, that was what Vi believed.

He had an inkling that it wasn't quite as simple. That maybe she did what she wanted to do all along, under the pretence of sacrifice. Maybe for her, it was an opportunity.

Or maybe she believed that it was the outcome she deserved.

The thought of it made his heart break. But he kept it to himself.

Just like he kept to himself that Vi was dead in the ‘better’ universe. He knew she’d break down knowing that the only thing separating that world from theirs… was her.

He could live with that lie.

Better one broken heart than two.

Some nights, when everything quieted—when the clanking of tools stopped and the firelights dimmed—Ekko would let himself remember her.

Jinx.

Powder.

Two different people. Different pasts, different worlds, one dead and one hopefully still alive and happy.

He could've been happy, too.

But he made his choice. He left her behind.

He still dreamed of her sometimes.

Not in vivid detail, more like the feeling of her hand in his when they danced. Like a memory dissolving in water.

He taught kids how to solder. He taught tinkering at Vi's shop a few times a week. He fixed old tech and handed it out for free. He showed people how to survive without having to steal or fight. He was there when new hospitals and schools opened.

He built foundling homes, places where orphaned kids could safely sleep and eat. Soup kitchens, so no one went hungry.

He was proud of that.

And sometimes he was happy.

But the scars he bore on his soul hurt more than the physical ones. And maybe one day they'd turn into a dull ache, and he'd be able to start something new.

Ekko's hoverboard clicked onto his back the moment his feet hit the ground in front of The Last Cog. He pulled on the door and—

It was closed.

He looked at the sign that confirmed as much.

He was supposed to help her with a bunch of too complicated mechanisms. She was the one who'd reached out and set the date.

Ekko ran his gloved hand down his face. He was 70% sure she had a good reason not to be here.

The hoverboard whirred back to life. He weaved between pipes and bridges and catwalks up to the surface, deciding to check up on Vi. Just in case.

If it was an emergency, maybe he could help.

Or maybe she forgot and he was going to give her shit for standing him up like that.

Ekko rang the doorbell of Vi and Cait's apartment a couple of times. He could hear Jax barking from behind the door immediately.

Ekko was glad that Vi didn't stay in Piltover like he thought she would. He was glad that Caitlyn didn't really argue about it, like she wanted to move just as much. Leaving that massive mansion was probably good for their mental health.

And he was glad to have Vi close like that.

The door opened quicker than he expected. Vi blinked at him in confusion, her hair tied back messily and her undershirt stained with… something.

Jax and Onyx peeked out from behind her, sniffing his boots and wagging their tails joyfully. The smell of pancakes and bacon followed soon after.

He crossed his arms on his chest, chin raised and one eyebrow lifted, waiting for her to realise.

“Ah, shit.”

“Mhm.”

“Was that today?” she asked, running her hand over her face with a groan.

“Mm-hm.”

“Fuck.” She opened the door wider and motioned for him to step in. “Sorry, Little Man. It's been, uh…” She glanced further into the apartment while he hung his coat and put his hoverboard by the door. “It's been a hell of twenty-four hours. You probably should sit down before—”

They both froze as a laugh came from inside the kitchen. Vi glanced at him right away, but he barely registered it as his thoughts started to race.

That laugh.

It sounded kind of like Jinx. But it wasn’t Jinx. Not just because she was dead, but because there was this something to it.

Maybe it was less… unhinged.

But he knew it was Powder's. It had to be.

Like in a trance, he walked towards the kitchen, his feet heavy like they were made out of lead. His heart pounded in his chest so hard he could hear it in his ears.

And… there she was. Flipping a pancake onto a stack like everything was normal. Like she was a part of this world.

She turned and looked at him, and her blue eyes widened in surprise. Her hair was down, brushing her shoulders, with that pink strand…

She was here.

Vi probably knew he had lied now. But he didn't really care at the moment. He just stepped closer, slowly. He froze half a step in front of her—he wanted to embrace her, hold her, but it's been years. With the way he'd left…

“Uhm…” Powder blinked, her eyebrows pulling together in a little frown, her arms going stiff after she slowly set the pan down. “Hi…”

“You’re… You’re here,” he whispered, feeling the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah.” She shifted from one foot to the other.

He spread his arms a little, offering a hug. When Powder leaned forward, he finally put his arms around her, pulling her close. All the while, she patted his back soothingly, holding him with gentleness that undid him.

With his face buried in her shoulder, he let the tears fall.

She was real, solid and warm in his arms. His fingers curled into the back of her shirt, holding her like she would disappear if he let go.

“I missed you,” Ekko murmured, voice muffled against her. “I missed you so much.”

“It's… good to see you again,” she said before leaning away slightly. Her voice was softer than he remembered.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his brow furrowed in utter disbelief. “How… How did you get here, Powder?”

She looked at him with those big blue eyes, taking in his face as she hesitated.

“It's… kind of a long story,” she finally mumbled, letting go of him to rub the back of her neck.

“I've got time,” he said with a gentle smile, watching the corner of her mouth twitch up.

She punched him gently on the shoulder. “Yeah, I'm sure you do, Timeboy.”

Ekko heard Vi step around them and walk further into the kitchen whispering something, but his eyes didn't leave Powder for even a moment. He feared that the moment he did, she’d be gone again.

Three years of holding onto the memory of her. Of what could've been. He told himself he had to let go, that he'd never see her again.

And yet, somehow, she was in his arms again.

She took a small step back so he eased the hug, but he didn't want to let go yet. His hands rested on her biceps, a little firmer than he recalled.

“You'd left all the equations, runes and blueprints at my place,” Powder explained. “I just retraced the steps. It wasn't… exactly the same,” she paused, glancing to the side.

“But you did it. And you're here.”

“And I have to be here, since it… imploded on arrival,” she added with an awkward chuckle. “But those are the risks of interdimensional travel, I suppose!”

“Oh…” His hands slid down her arms to catch hers. He let out a shaky breath. “So you… can't go back?”

“I'm not in a rush.” She shrugged faintly. “I want to stay here for a while, with Vi and…” she glanced sideways again.

Ekko heard a little rustling to the side, but he just squeezed her hands tighter, not turning his head. “What about your family? Your Ekko?”

“My family…” She sighed. “I miss them, but… leap forward and all that. And, uh…” She looked at him, then cast her eyes downwards. “Me and my Ekko parted ways after that whole body-hijacking situation. It… wasn't working out. Got a little weird, I guess.”

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, wondering what she meant. His mind jumped to what he'd thought about often—what if she fell in love with him, and the other Ekko wasn't… quite like him?

“It's fine,” she said quickly. “It—um—it made things easier in a way, got me to focus harder on building my own timeline-hopper.”

To the side, it sounded like Vi was wrangling Jax, or something, half-whispering a sharp ‘no’. Ekko ignored it completely.

“So… you're here,” he said slowly.

“Yup,” she nodded.

“And you're not in a rush to return.”

Powder nodded again, slower.

His eyebrows pulled together as he studied her—her expression, but also her freckles, the way her hair fell around her face, how her eyes darted around.

“And… you're not with your Ekko anymore…”

“M-hm…” her eyes narrowed like she was realising what he was getting at.

“So… Y'know, I've been thinkin’ about you a lot—and maybe… I've been on your mind, too?” He could feel his face grow a little hotter. “Would you like to maybe… spend some time together? Give it a shot?” he offered, maybe a little awkward, but completely genuine.

Her cheeks grew redder, her eyes fluttering. “Oh… Oh, Ekko, I… That's…”

There was more rustling, then finally:

“Back off, Little Man!”

It was… Jinx's voice. His head snapped towards it so fast it was a miracle he didn't get a whiplash.

And there she was—pale, with dimly glowing pink eyes, hair longer and pulled into a single thick braid. Vi tossed her over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes while trying to manoeuvre out the kitchen.

“What…?” he breathed, stunned.

“Yeah! She's taken!”

“Jinx, hush,” Vi muttered, but before they disappeared past the wall, Jinx called out again:

“We're FUCKIN’!”

Ekko stood there, shell-shocked, while Powder hid her face in her hands with a long groan.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Blinked at the kitchen entrance, processing the not-dead-Jinx he just saw.

Finally he spoke, his voice breaking a little:

“You’re… what…?”

His head turned towards Powder, slowly. She was still hiding behind her hands.

“It's not… I mean…” came muffled by her palms. “I don't know why she'd… say that…”

Ekko stepped back, like he needed physical space just to sort through what had just happened. “Wait. Wait. Wait.”

He lifted his hands like he could force the time to stop, pointed at Powder, then at the door, then at Powder again.

“That was… Jinx. Our Jinx. Who blew up at the Hexgates. Vi— Vi saw her…”

“Yeah,” she said, finally lowering her hands with a sigh. Her face was redder than neons in the Lanes.

“And she's alive.”

Powder nodded.

“And… you two are…” His hands flailed in vague motions as he helplessly looked for the right words.

“Dating?” she offered.

He looked at her like she'd just hit him with a brick. He felt like it, too.

“Dating,” he echoed. “Right.”

He leaned heavily on the counter.

“Do you wanna sit down?” she asked, a little worried, motioning to a chair.

He just walked towards it on shaking legs, and she caught his arm to steady him until he plopped down.

“You… Powder… my Powder…”

“Not really yours,” she whispered faintly.

“Right. Sorry.” Ekko deflated, rubbing his temple. “You’re… dating Jinx.”

“Yeah.” Powder leaned against the table, looking away from him.

“Who is… you.”

“Kinda. Not exactly. But… yeah.”

“And… and you're havin’—”

“A romantic relationship,” she cut him off before he finished. “Also, yeah.”

He put his head in his hands, at a loss for words. His mind spun with so many questions he couldn't even process them properly.

How was Jinx alive? Where had she been for the past three years? How the hell did she end up with Powder? Why was Powder with her? How did that work? What did it all mean? How far would it go?

“Hey,” Powder said softly, placing her hand on his forearm. It snapped him out of the spiral of thoughts. “Would you… like some pancakes?” she asked a bit awkwardly, motioning to the stack.

“Huh?” He blinked slowly, looking from Powder to the pancakes. “Uh, no thanks. I— I don't think I can… eat right now.”

“Fair,” she said with a nod, then sighed. “I know it's a lot, and J, she… Well, she's not good at easing people into it—”

“How?” The question escaped him before he could stop himself. “When? What…?”

Powder rubbed the back of her neck. “We didn't… I mean, it just… happened. It wasn't like either of us pursued the other, we just… grew close. And then we grew closer.” She added the last part with a giggle.

Ekko rubbed his face with both hands. “Uh… huh…”

“She's, uh, probably going to be a little… hostile,” Powder continued. “She wants to kick your ass on my behalf ‘cause she knows I won't do it…”

“What?” he asked as alarm bells sounded off in his mind. He glanced towards the kitchen entrance feeling his shoulders tense. “Why?”

“So…” Powder grimaced for just a moment. “Remember when you… visited my timeline?”

“Yeah, ‘course I do. You don't really forget something like that.”

“Okay. Um. Remember the Innovators’ Competition party?”

Of course he did. He thought about it every other night.

“Yeah…”

“Well, you weren't really… you. I mean—him. My Ekko,” she continued, gesturing about. “You pretended to be him.”

Ekko winced slightly. “I couldn't go around saying I was me, though. Everyone'd think I went crazy—”

“I get that,” she quickly assured, lifting her hand. “But J… She thinks you tricked me. That you—uh—used the fact that I thought you were my Ekko. That you… took advantage when we kissed, I guess.”

Ekko's stomach dropped and colour quickly drained from his face. “I— That’s not— I didn't—” he stammered helplessly.

“I'm not…” she paused with a pained little laugh. “Well, she's very mad about it. She's… incredibly protective of me.”

Ekko's mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. “Wait, wait, hold on, it wasn't like… I didn't mean to…” He paused, then his voice turned quieter. “Do you think I took advantage…?”

“Eeeh…” She tilted her head to and fro. “I mean… It wasn't cool. When my Ekko came back and I figured out you were him for those few months… I didn't really think it was that bad. I was more worried about my Ekko.”

She sat down opposite of him, her fingers tapping on the table while he sunk down lower.

“But then… I met her, and realised how different we were, and…” she shrugged weakly. “I guess you're a very different person than the guy I trusted and was dating.”

“Oh,” he whispered. “I… I'm sorry—”

At the sound of footsteps quickly approaching the kitchen, they both shot up. Powder stepped in front of Ekko just in time to catch Jinx before she slammed into him like a freight train.

“Pretend like it's the first time, Ekko?!”

“Bluejay, it's okay—”

“Shut up, it's not,” Jinx snapped, her eyes glowing neon as she pushed past Powder with ease.

Her expression wasn't dissimilar to how she looked at him when they'd run into each other during Shimmer shipments.

“Wait, Jinx—” He lifted his hands defensively before she grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the wall.

“How ‘bout: Hey, it's actually the first time? Or I'm not your boyfriend, let's not?” she growled.

“J, come on, let's not…” Powder wrapped her arms around Jinx's waist and tried to pull her back, lifting her off the floor with ease.

“No, no. Let's.”

“Jinx, let go of him,” Vi barked as she stormed into the room, trying to get herself between them. “We can talk like adults.”

“I can beat the shit outta him like an adult,” Jinx hissed while Vi tried to peel her fingers off Ekko’s shirt.

“J, please,” Powder’s voice cracked a little as she pulled on Jinx harder.

“She trusted you,” Jinx snarled, baring her teeth. “And you played her!”

“I— I didn't mean to—!”

“But you did,” she snapped back, trying to yank her hands from Vi's strong grip, her chest heaving. “You knew she thought you were him, and you just… rolled with it. Got your kiss in before skipping back to your real life, huh?”

“I—I didn't plan it, I wasn't even—”

“Thinkin’?” Jinx scoffed.

“Bluejay, I'm not mad at him—”

“Yes you are.”

“Do not tell me how I feel.”

At that, Jinx froze. Her eyes seemed to dim as they darted sideways.

Finally, Powder pulled Jinx far enough to wedge herself between her and Ekko, placing her hands on her shoulders.

“I love you, okay?” she said softly, squeezing Jinx's shoulders. “I love how you protect me. I love that you care so much. But you can't decide how I feel. I'm not fragile, I can deal with it myself.”

Jinx looked down. “I know,” she grumbled. “But he hurt you.”

“And we were just talking about it. He didn't mean to hurt me.”

“But… But he did,” she repeated like it would change Powder’s mind.

“He did,” Powder agreed.

Jinx's shoulders tensed. “You always forgive people who don't deserve it.”

“I didn't say I forgave him. But I told you multiple times I didn't want you to hurt him.”

Jinx scowled. “You won't hurt him yourself.”

“Because I don't want to.”

Jinx gave her a look like she didn't understand what she was saying.

Powder sighed. “Just… sit down, Trouble. Finish your pancakes. Let's talk it out without violence, okay?”

Jinx's eyes narrowed at Powder, then glared at Ekko. Her fingers twitched before her hands curled into fists and she dropped onto her chair, picking up the fork.

“You good?” Vi asked softly, nudging Ekko's shoulder. He just rubbed his face and looked up at the ceiling.

“Not really…”

“Good,” Jinx muttered.

Vi stood nearby like she was ready to jump in between them the moment things escalated again. For a while, the room was thick with silence, and it weighed heavy on Ekko's shoulders, making him slump lower and lower down.

He had held onto that kiss. Kept it in some quiet corner of his mind like a pressed, fragile flower, perfectly preserved in time. It had been a moment of hope in the chaos, a source of warmth during cold nights, a spark of light in the darkness.

But it wasn’t that for her.

He hadn’t meant to lie to her. To take advantage. He… wasn't sure what he was thinking then, falling in love with a girl that didn't feel real. Someone who didn't exist in his world.

But now, looking back, what he meant or thought didn’t matter all that much. What she felt did.

He stared at the table, clutching his head, wishing he could fall into a crack in the world and disappear. A different part of him knew he had to face it, to make it right.

His chest felt tight, and his stomach twisted like it was flipping inside out.

Powder was watching him as she sat down next to Jinx, who ate her stack of pancakes in angry little stabs, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them.

"… I really didn't mean to hurt you," he said quietly, not lifting his head. He could feel Jinx's death glare without looking at her.

Powder didn’t answer immediately. He glanced up at her—now fidgeting with a loose thread of her sleeve.

“I know you didn’t,” she said eventually, voice quiet. “But it still happened. And it… changed things.”

He swallowed hard and forced his voice out, low and raspy. “Was that why you… broke up?”

She tilted her head. “With my Ekko?”

He nodded.

Jinx's eyes darted to Powder, her jaw tense.

“Not exactly,” she said, putting her hand on Jinx's thigh and squeezing faintly. Jinx huffed, going back to ripping through her food. “You influenced it, but… He couldn’t really handle what happened—it messed with his sense of identity. And honestly… it messed with mine too.”

Ekko didn't say anything.

“I mean, when you suddenly learn there are different versions of you…” She tucked a loose strand of Jinx's hair behind her ear. “He didn't remember those few months at all, wanted to know every single detail of what happened, what he… well, what you did. That was pretty understandable. But… he got weird. Jealous, maybe.”

She turned her head to Vi with a wry smile.

“You told me about that dream, and after you left I… I realised it probably wasn't just that. I really wanted to meet Vi, see her again, all grown up and badass. I got a little… obsessed with rebuilding the Z-Drive. I asked him for help, of course.” Powder sighed, leaning back in her chair as she looked at Ekko again. “He… He wouldn't stop implying that I'm doing it to get back to you.”

Jinx let out an irritated huff, but didn’t say anything. Powder leaned into her with her shoulder and nudged her with hers. Jinx rolled her eyes but relaxed a little.

“What really ended it was when we started arguing more about who I was supposed to be,” she continued. “That whole… leaving things behind advice didn't sit well with him. He kinda… treated me like a project he could fix and stabilise, maybe ‘cause he felt like he had to be in control of his life again, and I was just a part of it.”

“And we hate being treated like something to fix,” Jinx scoffed quietly.

Ekko winced at that—he was guilty of thinking he could fix Jinx. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm sorry. I… I didn't even think about how much of a mess I'd left behind.”

“You made me realise I had enough of playing the support role. Plus, without that mess, I would've never met her.” Powder turned her head to Jinx for a moment, and Ekko saw the loving look in her eyes. “And it's not like you did it on purpose, right? You were trying to go back from day one, so… I'm guessing you didn't hop timeless just for the fun of it.”

“No, I… I got sucked into an anomaly at the Hexgates’ failsafe. Had no idea it'd happen.” His eyes landed on Jinx. “Speaking of the Hexgates… I thought you…”

“Blew up?” Jinx asked with her mouth full. “Yeah, a little. Got better.”

“We had a funeral for you.”

“Yeah, Vi told me,” she said dismissively, swallowing and shoving more pancakes in her mouth. Powder sighed, wiping syrup from Jinx's cheek with her thumb. “Was on my self-love journey in Bilgewater. Very therapeutic.”

Ekko ran his hands down his face.

“Right…”

The silence that fell over the room wasn't as heavy this time, but Ekko still could feel it pushing down on him. It stretched just enough to make him wonder if there was anything left worth saying.

He let out a breath and leaned back in his chair.

“I'm glad you're here,” he said, quietly but genuinely. “Both of you. Even if the universe had to break open to make it happen.”

“So dramatic,” Powder smiled faintly. “It didn’t break open. Just cracked a little.”

Jinx dropped her fork onto an empty plate and crossed her arms, leaning against Powder, head on her shoulder. Her eyes were still narrowed, still trained on him, but they were dim. The adrenaline and Shimmer weren't buzzing in her veins anymore, it seemed.

Powder put her arm around her, and Jinx sighed softly in response, the last of the tension in her shoulders disappearing.

Ekko watched them with an ache in his chest. Every second that passed, the memories of that kiss warped a little more in his mind. The softness of it, the vulnerability, the hope—it all had new edges now. Uncomfortable ones.

But that ache wasn't just from knowing he'd hurt Powder. It was like he was staring at a path he could've walked, now closed for good.

But maybe it was never his to walk.

“You guys look… happy,” he mumbled.

“We are,” they said in uncanny unison—one voice soft, the other snippy.

Vi's eye twitched. She stood up, grabbing empty plates and carrying them to the sink. “We past the murder attempts now, Jinx?”

“Never said that,” she huffed.

“Bluejay, please.”

Jinx groaned. “Yeah, okay, fine, Softie.”

“Thank you,” Powder murmured, giving Jinx a soft kiss on the cheek.

Ekko looked from one to the other. Even if they looked uncannily similar, he knew well how much different they were as people. He could easily imagine the ways they could compliment and better one another, like a perfect couple.

“So… How long have you been together…?”

“Today's our second anniversary!” Powder lit up. Vi dropped a plate into the sink, then cursed under her breath.

“Oh, congrats,” he said thinly, then quickly cleared his throat. “Any, uh, celebration plans?”

“Pancake breakfast,” Jinx said simply. “Blowin’ up a fancy block up in Piltover. Maybe robbing a bank.”

“The last two are not on our to-do list,” Powder quickly assured. “But we could go to the zoo,” she offered.

Jinx's eyes lit up, but not in the scary, dangerous way. It was pure excitement. “We're gonna sneak into the enclosures and pet all the animals!”

Powder smiled. “And get some cotton candy, too.”

Jinx threw her arms up with a childlike cheer, and Ekko realised that they truly were made for each other.

Chapter Text

It's been three years since Sevika had lost her entire family—three years drowning in silent grief over two infuriating kids who got it in their head that they had to sacrifice themselves for others.

Three years since they rallied the Undercity to save Piltover's ass.

And now, three years of sitting on the Council with a bunch of rich assholes she barely tolerated.

It was Caitlyn who’d insisted Zaun get equal representation—and somehow, Sevika ended up being that voice. To be completely frank, she had expected that she'd have no power to change anything. She believed Caitlyn had put her in the hot seat so that the Pilties could pat themselves on the back with self-congratulatory smirks and everything would stay the same.

She knew she had to at least try. That’s why she agreed, with no high hopes.

Councillor Shoola had become de facto the head of the Council after the Noxian invasion—she was the last of the old batch and that experience gave her an edge, which… wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Unlike most Pilties, Shoola didn’t treat Zaun as a burden to manage or a mess to pity. She treated it like a city, equal and alive. She seemed to actually care about the working class and respected Sevika's input, backing her votes up more often than not.

It came as a complete surprise to Sevika—she’d expected every Piltie on the Council to do everything in their power to shut her down. To hide behind polite smiles and stall with endless, nonsensical procedures. She expected to have no voice, and just another headache job she would trudge through in the name of keeping the peace.

But she’d been wrong.

And she'd made damn sure not to waste the opportunity.

Sure, she smoked through Council sessions, swore during budget reviews, and called out bullshit when she smelled it. Her arm—the one Jinx gifted her about four years ago now—would rest heavy on the cracked, gold-filled table, snapping like a hungry wolf when her co-workers tried to silence her.

It was clear who made it. It was clear that it wasn't meant for paperwork. It was a reminder and a silent threat.

Truthfully, she hated that damn arm. It was a nightmare to do anything that required precision and gentle touch. She didn't even have fingers. Or a thumb. And it blasted that one godsdamned song Silco let Jinx record when the brat turned 16 at random intervals.

But she'd sooner die than change it for a different prosthetic.

Throughout the years, other councillors went from quiet suggestions to actually presenting her with Piltovan-make, top-of-the-line prosthesis.

One cold look from her, and it had never been brought up again.

Sevika took up space. She didn't let them ignore her. And sometimes, she spoke over them, and her voice carried.

Some of them hated her. Scratch that—most of them hated her. She didn't give a fuck, she was going to get the best deal for Zaun, better than what Vander and Silco had ever achieved.

As she pushed through the mind-numbing meets filled with endless stacks of paperwork, Sevika felt driven by a strange mix of wanting to make their ghosts proud and sheer spite—determined to prove that she could do better than they ever had.

Zaun was still rough around the edges—hell, it always would be—but it was on the path towards something she’d never imagined she’d see in her lifetime: equality.

Sure, it wasn't much yet. It's been only three years. But every now and again, Sevika let herself be cautiously optimistic.

The Kiramman girl threw herself at reforming how the Enforcers operated the moment she got her Sheriff badge. Sevika'd worked with her closely for years now—any form of militarized squads were now barred from entering Zaun without written approval.

They collaborated on the Stillwater reform, too. An audit was launched to review every inmate, their documentation, their cases—releasing those who were imprisoned for petty crimes, protests, or simply acting suspicious.

They placed the Firelights in the role of Zaun's Peacekeepers—their little thriving community was well versed in helping out people in need. They took the initiative to help the addicts, they set up shelters and soup kitchens for the homeless and the orphaned.

And Sevika made sure they were stocked with everything they needed—infrastructure bills that once bled Zaun dry were slowly restructured. A big chunk of tax money finally stayed where it was collected, and it was used. Hospitals, water filters, vent upgrades.

They even opened public schools and libraries—and while apprenticeship was still a big part of Zaun's culture, kids had the opportunity to learn more than just assembly or metal work, they had options. They could read books for free, without having to steal. They could learn how to read and write, and not just orders and instructions from their mentors.

Sevika had started the process of cracking down on runoff, too. Eventually, all filth that came from the factories—many Piltie owned—would become strictly capped, with dumping grounds being clearly outlined. No more toxins spilled straight into their water supply.

Now, there were people whose job was to inspect and monitor the waste production, and if the numbers were too high? Sevika made sure they were fined to hell and back.

The Council tried to push back every step of the way—some of them had family members who owned factories, after all. So Sevika took them down to Zaun. No gas masks, just a walk down the Lanes.

Not even halfway to the Sumps, most of them were choking and retching. One of them even threw up.

And it wasn't just a one-time trip. No, she promised to take them down there monthly, as a way to experience the progress in person.

That was the last time anyone tried to argue that the efficiency of the factories mattered more than the Undercity air. All it took was a repeated unpleasant experience that affected them personally.

After three years of push and pull, she finally got veto powers on projects that affected Zaun—no more failsafes in the Undercity, no more testing grounds. If anything had the potential to affect the water pipes or vents negatively, it was shot down right away.

Of course, the Chembarons were still a bit of an issue. The gangs kept busy tweaking the waste numbers, paying off whoever they needed. Not that Piltover didn't do so as well, it was just that the barons were… more experienced at avoiding the law.

She wasn't surprised. Hell, she lived in Zaun her whole life. She'd expected it. She worked on that little issue with Caitlyn—solutions were still in progress, because pushing the barons back would be like walking a tight rope over retaliation. Instead, they talked, negotiated, gambled, bartered and bargained. And Caitlyn was learning fast how to handle the barons while keeping her cards close to her chest.

There were some things—small and inconsequential in comparison, but incredibly important to her.

That museum at the Kiramman mansion, one that didn't hide the truth of the tumultuous history between the two cities—Piltovan kids went there during school trips. The new generation was learning of their elders’ mistakes. And hopefully they wouldn't repeat them.

There was a statue at the entrance. It was made of metal, of gears and pipes, inspired by the Vander's statue in the Undercity. Still, it was dynamic and flowing, like a real moment frozen in place—Zaunites, rallied to save Piltover's sorry ass. A reminder that, despite what the visitors would see inside, the fissure folk decided to come to their aid.

Sevika and Ekko were right at the front, stepping on Noxian soldiers’ bodies. Jinx wasn’t there, though. Not in person, though there were symbols of her present.

Apparently it was in poor taste to place Jinx in a heroic pose at the Kiramman Mansion.

Her statue was placed on the Zaunite side of the Bloody Bridge. She held a flag with Zaun's symbol in one hand, and one of those ridiculous Chompers in the other. Sevika passed it every time she crossed Pilt on her way to the council.

She was passing it now as she made her way into Zaun. She was never sure how to feel about it—should she grieve? Be proud? Be unsettled about how still the statue is when Jinx would never stop moving?

Silco’s statue—despite some back and forth with the Firelights—was erected back to back with Vander’s.

And the first funded school in Zaun? It was named after Isha.

Even though she… wasn't there for the fight, the statue showed her right by Jinx’s side, her gun in hand pointing upwards.

She wouldn't be forgotten. Sevika wouldn't allow for it.

And on a completely personal note, she… adopted a kid. Marcus's daughter, Ren. She couldn't just not take a foundling in. What kind of Zaunite would she be?

The girl was between the ages of Isha and Jinx—back when Silco'd adopted her. But, by gods, she was so much more manageable. Well-behaved, polite, quiet… in the past three years, Sevika’d made sure she got to be as wild as she wished to be. She got to run around, climb, get into physical fights with anyone who dared to bully her. She got to be dirty with mud and dirt and grass, she got to be loud and carefree and improper.

Despite her grief, she still got to be a kid.

In spite of how busy she was, Sevika always found the time to take care of her properly. It was something she'd been quietly regretting not doing with Jinx, even though she was Silco's problem—she wasn't exactly hers to raise.

She wished she could've done more for Isha while she'd been living with Jinx.

Well, she grimly hoped that the third time’s the charm.

She never said it out loud, of course. The whole “third time’s the charm” thing. It felt like daring fate to screw her over again. To jinx it.

Sevika still lived in Zaun, of course. Just not in the fissures, even though she went down to the Lanes every day.

She didn't live too far from Vander-Kirammans. Fortunately by the time they moved in, Vi was past her knee-to-the-face phase.

It wasn't like they got along well, of course. They probably never would. But they were able to talk business. On Jinx's nameday, they’d sit at her grave ‘til sunrise, passing the bottle and smoking in near complete silence.

Sometimes Vi took Ren to school on her way to The Last Cog—Ren attended a Zaunite school, of course—when Sevika had to leave early in the morning. She taught the girl how to throw punches during weekly training sessions.

On Ren’s nameday, Vi got her a punching bag to hang in her room, and the kid loved it.

Today was one of those rare days when Sevika finished her work early, just in time to pick Ren up after school. She leaned against the brick fence and the girl flung herself at her, face smudged with mud, rattling on about her classes—geography of Valoran, ancient Shuriman art history, her project for the metalworking class.

She was alight with that chaotic joy only children could pull off after a full day of sitting over books and papers. Sevika's skin crawled just at the thought of sitting at her desk over the documents again.

“I'm making us a coat hook,” Ren said proudly, taking a slightly crumpled blueprint out of her bag. “It's copper and I'll oxidise it green!”

“M-hm,” Sevika grunted encouragingly, lighting up her cigar as they started walking towards the bathysphere station. “Maybe you can make a few more, sell ‘em to the posh kids Topside.”

Ren puffed out her cheeks like she just got offended, pulling on Sevika's arm. “It's not for sale! It's for you!”

“Oh.” Sevika felt that right in her chest. She shifted her cigar between her teeth. “Then we gotta make a place for it right by the door.”

The girl beamed, skipping ahead as she hummed some obnoxiously catchy tune she’d probably picked up from one of the Firelight kids.

As they rode the tram up to the Promenade level, Sevika let the kid babble. She liked listening to her more than she’d ever admit—it made her feel lighter when Ren’s voice lit up with passion as she spoke about things Sevika'd never had the chance to learn.

She nodded and hummed to let her know she was listening to every word while her eyes flicked to the window. Below, the distant neon lights of Zaun glowing through the smog like stars in the night sky.

It was still far from perfect, but things were changing. She made sure of it.

Finally under the afternoon sky, Ren ran ahead while Sevika followed at a leisurely pace right behind her.

“Drop your stuff off,” she said when they reached the apartment, opening the door wide. “We’re heading out.”

Ren cocked her head with a surprised, “Huh?”

“Got the day off,” Sevika said, ruffling her hair with a smile that most would probably not consider a smile. But Ren knew. “Thought we’d hit the Piltover zoo.”

Ren gasped, hands flying up to her mouth. “You’re serious?”

“Mhm, think you enjoyed it last time, didn’t you?”

Ren grabbed her hand and tugged, practically vibrating with excitement. “Do you think they still have that triple-horned lizard thing? The one with the face that looks like it’s always judging you?”

“I dunno, but it sounds like someone I work with.”

They walked all the way past the bridge before getting into a tram. Ren pressed against the glass, eyes wide with wonder at every tower and statue they passed. Sevika mostly stayed silent, watching the kid's reflection in the glass.

They travelled all the way to the North District, where the zoo sprawled out like a walled-off pocket of another world—clean cobblestone paths surrounded by exotic greenery, stone-carved animals holding streetlamps, the scent of overpriced food wafting from somewhere deeper inside. Bright, rich-blue banners fluttered overhead, painted in shimmering gold with stylized creatures and slogans about “Conservation Through Innovation”.

The place wasn’t as busy as it was on weekends, but there were still crowds milling about—Piltovan families, couples, and a few field trip groups of kids in matching uniforms.

Ren weaved and ducked between people from enclosure to enclosure, pointing out animals she recognized from her books.

Every new exhibit brought a fresh burst of commentary. Ren fired off questions without waiting for answers: What did they eat? How fast could they run? Could they be tamed? Did they like to be pet? Just as fast, she’d switch to rattling off fun facts she’d just read on the display plaques, her words tumbling over each other in her hurry to get them out.

Sevika didn’t mind. She followed the kid as they wandered through, keeping enough distance to let her roam freely from viewpoint to viewpoint, looking for creatures resting in their shaded corners. Every so often, Ren would run back to grab her hand, dragging her toward something new—furry and fluffy, feathered, scaled, or just weird enough to catch her attention. Sevika let her lead, getting pulled along in the stream of that unfiltered, bright enthusiasm.

When they made it to the herpetarium, Ren marched in like a girl on a mission. She located the triple-horned lizard like it was the biggest attraction, yet it lounged, uninspired, on a warm rock, regarding them with the same bored disdain Sevika reserved for most Council meetings.

Ren insisted she stand next to the glass so she could compare their expressions. With all of a child’s pompous confidence, she declared, , “You definitely match.”

“I don’t look this exhausted all the time,” Sevika muttered back, narrowing her eyes at the creature.

The lizard narrowed its eyes right back.

“Dunno about that,” Ren said with a little shrug. “When you come home late you look utterly sleepy.”

Right then, something strange happened. It was just a voice—distant, but with that high-pitched lilt and rasp Sevika knew oh-so-well.

One she hadn’t heard in about three years.

She spun, scanning the people among the terrariums, jaw clenching tight. Her heart twisted in that unpleasant way that happens when one’s grief rears its ugly head in the most unexpected moment.

She must’ve been imagining things, Sevika thought, shaking her head. The voice was similar, yes, but it must’ve been just a trick of her mind.

She turned back to Ren—

—And then she heard it. A laugh—one that once echoed through the Lanes, accompanied by gunfire and explosions.

Sevika felt her gut twist with something dangerously close to hope.

She couldn’t just ignore it.

“Hey, Ren,” she said, keeping her tone casual as she crouched beside the girl. “Take your time with the reptiles, alright? I… I have to check up on something. I'll meet you in the food court in an hour.”

Ren looked up at her with a curious look. She didn’t ask questions, though—she just nodded quickly before turning back to the lizard.

Sevika straightened out, gaze drifting over the other visitors. She slowly headed towards where the sound had come from, her stride even and purposefully unrushed. Her heavy prosthetic arm drew eyes no matter where she went, and she wasn’t about to bring more attention to herself.

She slipped out of the herpetarium’s side exit, eyes sweeping the open walkway ahead. It didn’t take long to spot the source of the laughter—a couple walking hand in hand, both of them cloaked. While the clouds above them were darkened, it was far from rainy, and Sevika’s instincts immediately told her those two were trying to conceal who they were.

But a couple? Holding hands? It was hard to believe that this could’ve been Jinx. It didn’t fit her—the girl who’d once turned her life into chaos, who’d shoot through allies and foes alike.

The girl who was supposed to be a smear of ash at the bottom of the Hexgates.

Still, she shadowed them, far enough not to draw their attention, but never taking her eyes off of them. That bounce in the step, the confident, unhurried gait—Sevika couldn’t shake the feeling that it didn’t belong to a stranger.

The pair didn’t seem to notice her, too wrapped in whatever conversation they were having, its murmur lost to the casual chatter of people around them.

They leaned close to one another when they stopped at the giraffe enclosure, one facing the information board while the other one gestured animatedly while she talked.

If it was Jinx… Who could the other person be? How did they get this close to her?

The maybe-Jinx pulled her companion's arm, pointing at the approaching animals. Sevika couldn’t make out words, but the cadence she spoke with was full of excitement and mischief.

The other figure smacked her on the shoulder half-heartedly. Maybe-Jinx laughed in a very Jinx-like way, then broke off some nearby bush branches and skipped closer to the giraffes.

The other one followed right behind her. They didn't stop maybe-Jinx from leaning far over the wooden fence—so far Sevika half-expected her to tumble over—waving sticks full of leaves towards the reluctant animal. They just grabbed her by the belt—like a precaution rather than a restraint.

When one of the giraffes finally reached its tongue out and took the branch, maybe-Jinx reached her hand out. Sevika was pretty sure she petted the animal, which leaned back unhappily.

They finally moved on, strolling at that lazy pace of people who had nowhere else to be.

She fell in step, keeping a safe distance. She could clearly see how their hands found one another, locking fingers together in an instant. They walked hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, bumping each other and leaning close when they spoke, like they couldn't stand having any space between them.

Each time they stopped, maybe-Jinx tried to reach for the animal, no matter if it was a lemur or a godsdamned tiger. Despite what reason dictated, Sevika was becoming more and more certain that person was actually Jinx. The poise, the lilt of her laugh, the way she walked with confidence, like she owned the place.

What cemented it was the moment she tried to scale the barrier between the visitors and a rhino. The other person pulled her back at the last moment, and they seemed to argue—Jinx stomping her foot like a petulant brat.

The other person simply opened their arms. Jinx lunged seconds later, wrapping her legs around their waist and her arms around their shoulders. And when she… leaned in to kiss that mystery person, the blue hair slipped from under her hood.

Jinx was alive.

That little shit was alive, making out with someone in a Piltie zoo instead of crawling to her and begging for forgiveness.

Sevika had mourned her for years. She was still not over it, and now the last person of what she considered her family didn't even bother to tell her she was actually alive and well.

It hurt.

She stalked behind the two, the taller person carrying Jinx like she weighed nothing, while she clung to them like one of those monkeys in a nearby enclosure.

They headed to the aviary—the whole place was under a roof, full of greenery from all over Runeterra. Some birds flew over their heads freely, others had spacious cages they chattered and chimed from. Others still hopped among the massive leaves and colourful flowers, or strutted along the paths, colourful tails wide open.

While the mystery person stopped by an information board, Jinx slipped out from their arms and skipped further down the way, picking up… something from the ground again and again. Probably all the dusty feathers she spotted.

Whoever was with Jinx—they were alone now, watching the kid for a few moments before turning back to the text.

Sevika took it as her chance. She strode to the cloaked figure, clearing the distance in a few long steps. The person in front of her was way shorter than her, so Sevika loomed over them, her shadow falling over the information board.

The person seemed to freeze for a moment. They slowly turned around, revealing the confused face of—

“Jinx?” Sevika let out like she'd just been slapped across the face. Her head whipped towards the person she could swear was Jinx, then back to the actual Jinx who stood before her.

The brat didn't answer, taking a step back instead. Her eyes were wide…

And blue.

Did the Shimmer finally clear out of her system?

“I thought you were dead,” Sevika said through gritted teeth. “Fuck.”

“Um, I—” Jinx giggled nervously, her eyes darting down the path, where that other person had disappeared. “I'm not—uh—do you… I'm not Jinx, just to be clear,” she said firmly. “But, um, are you—are you one of the people who'd like to throw her in jail, or…?”

Sevika scowled, trying to figure out what that godsdamned girl was playing at. “No. I'll fuckin’ kill you, you little shit.”

Jinx pressed her back against the information board, looking like she was about to bolt.

Did she have… some sort of amnesia? Had she finally lost it completely?

She twitched, and before she even had the chance to slip out, Sevika gripped her by the shoulder. Jinx in turn put two fingers in her mouth and whistled so loudly Sevika's ears started ringing.

She'd barely managed to turn before a blur of blue and pink slammed into her body and sent her to the ground. She gasped when the air was knocked out of her momentarily, her poncho-covered arm snapping its jaws instinctively.

She must've hit the ground hard, because she was seeing double.

Jinx adjusted Jinx's hood before grabbing her by the shoulder like she was prompting her to run. But Jinx just stood there, the neon-like glow of her pink eyes trained on her like a falcon locked in on a field mouse.

“Sevika?” she finally rasped, her head tilting slightly. “Holy shit!”

“She said she wants to kill you,” the other Jinx hissed.

“Yeah, no, that tracks,” Jinx nodded thoughtfully. “She's the Ogre. Leftie. We're fine. She may try to knock my teeth out, though.”

“Oooooh,” Jinx replied like something just clicked in her head.

Sevika was pretty sure she had some sort of a concussion, or maybe brain damage. Alcohol-induced hallucinations? Not that she was drunk—but maybe that was exactly the issue.

“Wait, uh, here, hold this,” Jinx said quickly, putting a bouquet of vibrant blue, bell-like flowers into Jinx's hand, followed by a fistful of feathers.

Maybe Sevika'd find the please, do not pick the flowers sign right next to them amusing if she wasn't having some sort of a mental breakdown.

Jinx dropped to a crouch next to her, elbows resting on her knees while her smile grew into a toothy grin.

“Get up, Sev! Can't jump into your arm when you're on the ground like that!”

Sevika blinked in silence, looking from one Jinx to the other.

“Oh, um, I'm Powder,” the blue-eyed Jinx said with a small wave and an awkward smile. “Nice to meet you, Sevika. I’ve heard so much about you!”

“What… the fuck,” Sevika finally breathed out.

Jinx snorted, resting her chin in her palm as she leaned forward like she found it all amusing. “Surprise!”

Sevika’s eyes flicked from Jinx to Powder. From the pink, Shimmer-altered eyes to the blue she’d been used to just as much.

“You’re dead,” she finally said, her voice rough as gravel.

Jinx barked a sharp laugh, rocking back on her heels. “Me? Dead? Sev, you know I’m like a sumproach. Can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“You exploded.”

“Many such cases,” she replied sagely, like that made any sense whatsoever. “Guess the funeral was a little premature, huh?”

Sevika’s arm whirred as she finally pushed herself up, towering over the both of them. “Three years, Jinx,” she spat. “I lost what was left of my family, one kid after another. Don’t you fuckin’ dare pretend like it’s nothing.”

While Powder flinched at her tone, Jinx’s grin faltered just a little, and for the briefest moment Sevika saw something flicker across her face. Something that wasn’t just mischief or recklessness. The girl blinked rapidly like she was trying to bat away tears before she stood up fully, placing herself in front of Powder like a shield.

“I have a feeling you’re pissed…”

“Oh, you don’t say?”

“I mean, I get it. You should be,” Jinx said, shrugging faintly. “I… I guess I didn’t think you’d, uh, care that much? I mean, I’m me. You’re you.”

Sevika’s jaw tightened, nose flaring like an angry bull’s. Her fingers twitched and the maw of her metal arm clicked, like her body wasn’t sure if she wanted to hug Jinx, or deck her.

Sure, when they worked for Silco she’d seen Jinx as a co-worker. An annoying, spoiled brat with no regard for the other goons, or her tasks. She just did whatever, exploded whatever, shot whoever, and listened to no-one.

But after Silco died? Jinx… she… grew up, in a way. At least she started trying to. They were in the same boat, taking care of one sumprat. How the fuck did Jinx not think she’d care?

Powder put the feathers and flowers in one hand, and slipped the other into Jinx’s.

“I’m fine,” Jinx murmured so softly Sevika’d nearly missed it. Her attention snapped to Powder.

“And who the hell are you, anyway? A clone? Doppelganger? The doctor’s freak experiment?”

Jinx’s pink eyes flared at that last one.

“No, not—not really?” Powder stammered. “I’m me. From a different universe, where I didn’t become Jinx, and Silco and Vander—”

“You’re from that universe Ekko talked about,” Sevika realised out loud.

“For fucks sake, he told everyone and their mother,” Jinx grumbled with an amused snort. “You really left an impression, huh, Bluebell?”

Sevika’s lips curled into a snarl before she could stop herself. “So you just waltz into Piltover like nothing happened and drag some… other-you into a fuckin’ zoo instead of, oh, I don’t know, telling me you’re alive? Do you even give a shit?”

“Okay, that's not—I would've checked up on you from afar, leave an ominous note or somethin’.” Jinx waved her free hand around as she spoke. “I thought you… y'know, you’d be better off. Without me screwin’ everything up again.”

Sevika gave a long, tired sigh. She wanted to grab Jinx by the collar and shake some sense into her. When her arm shot out, though, it was to hook around Jinx's shoulders and pull her into a hug.

For a few seconds, Jinx completely froze. Sevika didn’t even feel her breathe until her free hand slowly rose and caught the shirt at her back.

The next moment, both of Jinx's arms were wrapped tightly around Sevika, her head pressed into her shoulder.

“Fuck…” Sevika exhaled loudly, feeling the weight of grief physically lighten. “You're alive.”

Jinx gave a quiet, wet laugh.

“Yeah,” she rasped, “Yeah, I am.”

Powder shuffled on her feet a step behind Jinx, her smile soft and warm—nearly uncanny, from Sevika’s perspective. She was too used to crazy grins and sweet, foreboding smiles.

Sevika released Jinx just enough to look down at her. The pink eyes glimmered up at her, wet at the corners despite the grin still plastered on her face.

“Still don't know if I should crush your bones,” she muttered, her metal claw snapping open and shut.

“That's fine, I can work with that.” Jinx took half a step back, looking at the prosthesis. “Awww, lookit, you’re still wearin’ the arm I made you.”

“It's great at unsettling the Pilties,” Sevika muttered. “Now… do I even wanna know what's the deal with there bein’ two of you?”

“Oh, um…” Powder glanced at Jinx, whose arms finally retreated from Sevika. “I rebuilt Ekko's Z-Drive, but a bit differently. It spat me out next to Jinx and imploded, so now I’m just… here.”

“And what're you now, her keeper? Babysitter?”

Jinx smiled sweetly, her hand grabbing Powder’s, their fingers interlacing. “Nah. She’s my girlfriend.”

Sevika blinked once. Then again. Her face twisted like she’d just bitten into a lemon. “Your… what? Aren’t you the same godsdamned person?”

“Hey,” Jinx said while Powder let out a quiet sigh. “Don't knock it ‘til you try it.”

“She's really bad at easing people into it,” Powder said apologetically. “We're very different.”

“But very similar too!”

“Not helping.”

“I know!” Jinx grinned widely while Powder narrowed her eyes at her. “Actually, you're kinda crashin’ our anniversary date, soooo…”

Sevika blinked at them until her face turned from utter disbelief to begrudging acceptance.

“Y'know what? If there was someone crazy enough to last a year with you, it could only be another you.”

“Two years,” Powder corrected softly.

Sevika pinched the bridge of her nose with a heavy groan. “Sure. Whatever you say. I'm gonna be at the food court in half an hour. You can join. Or don't.”

“We'll gladly join you, right Bluejay?”

“Yup!” Jinx nodded. “I wanna know what you've been up to, Leftie. You're not wormin’ outta that one!”

“Right. Sure.” Sevika turned on her heel, shaking her head. “Enjoy your… date, kid,” she said over her shoulder, then paused. Slowly, she turned more towards the pair. “And Jinx?”

“Yeah?” Jinx tilted her head curiously.

“I’m glad you found a way to be happy.”