Work Text:
The war is over.
Feeling conscious enough, Vi opens her eyes.
She is lying on one of the cots of the makeshift medical unit. It's dark, but there are still people bustling all over, treating the wounded. She tries to look around and winces at the pulsation in her head. Or her everything, really. Her knuckles are sore, her stomach is tightly bandaged, and she can feel that her head is too. Vi sighs through her nose and slides on her pillow.
Her view is pretty limited, but she can tell that there are a lot of people here. If the stench of medical alcohol and metal is anything to go by, most of them are the wounded. Both Piltovans and Zaunites.
Vi feels the urgent need to check which Zaunites at that moment. She sits up as best as she can, clenching her teeth and groaning muffledly at her body's protests, and looks the present over. She is surrounded by bodies, each of a different injury level, but she doesn't see the familiar blue or the white. Worry bubbles in her stomach, because where the fuck are her siblings, and why are they not—
“Psst.”
Vi turns her head to the side and spots the familiar blue dreadlocks. That's Gert, her cot right next to hers, looking at her with exhausted eyes. Her stomach is bandaged as well and is stained with blood.
“Your left, on the floor,” she says, raspy.
Vi looks in that direction, and instant relief washes over her. Jinx and Ekko are here, alive and in one piece. They are lying on the floor, their bodies entangled in the no doubt much-needed sleep. Ekko's cheek is resting on Jinx's head, and her mouth has opened and is now leaking pink drool onto his shoulder. Smiling, Vi watches their chests rise and fall for a moment and then turns back.
“Thanks,” she whispers so as not to wake her family.
Gert nods and quirks the side of her mouth.
“Looking like shit, hon.”
Vi snorts lightly.
“You're not looking so hot yourself.” She nods at her stomach. “What happened?”
Gert shrugs.
"Nothin' special. Got shot. Started bleeding out. Someone carried me to safety. Then I'm here.” She taps her stomach. “Bullet went straight through. Almost hit my kidney. A couple inches more, and I would've been dead.”
Vi winces.
“That sucks.”
“You have no idea.” Gert keeps looking at her. Attentively. “I don't remember much because of blood loss 'n all. But I do remember that the person who carried me had pink hair.”
Vi snaps her eyes open. She'd tried to help anyone she could, in a maybe futile attempt to lessen the losses. But there were so many that she'd lost count. And some of them died while being carried anyway.
“I'm sorry. I don't remember,” she admits, a touch guilty.
Gert gives her a weak smile.
“That's fine. You saved me. Thank you.” She looks to the side. “If I bit it, she wouldn't have anyone else.”
“Who?”
Gert points at whatever she is looking at. Vi traces her gaze and realizes that there's a newcomer at the medical unit. It's that little dark-skinned girl Vi saw Gert talk to. Now that Vi can see her better, she is about nine or ten, with hazel eyes, fluffy hair with washed-out blue dreads and colorful beads, no freckles. The kid is standing around, awkward and worried, clearly looking for someone.
“The ungrateful shit I specifically told to stay behind,” Gert comments, pointedly raising her voice, “aka my sister.”
The girl's head snaps in their direction, her eyes full of desperate hope, and then she sets off running.
“Gert!” she exclaims, flying into her big sister's open arms.
Gert squeezes her in a hug, but then makes her look at her.
“Atena,” she says, her voice stern, “did I or did I not tell you to wait for me at the base?”
The girl—Atena—looks at her with teary eyes.
“You did, b-but you were gone for so long, and I w-was so scared that something might've happened, and, and—”
She sniffles and wipes at her nose.
“A-and then I couldn't find you at home, so I went Topside, and they, they were carrying p-people here, so I followed, and, and,” she chokes on her own snot, “you're here and you're hurt!”
She lets out a whine and wraps her little hands around Gert's neck again. Gert sighs and strokes her trembling back.
“Shh,” she whispers, all soft and gentle. “It's okay, Attie. You won't get rid of me that easily.”
“Promise?” she whimpers in her neck.
“Promise. Ma 'n pa wouldn't like me joining them that early anyway.”
Vi swallows through the tightness in her throat. Another two kids who lost their parents—and all because a bunch of moneybags couldn't stand the thought of their fix becoming less than what it used to be. Well, there are most certainly more now, and from their side as well. A worthy sacrifice, most assuredly.
She looks around.
Soon, the medical unit will be full of people. People, consisting of family and friends. Some will get to see their protectors mostly in one piece. Some will get to see them down a limb. And some will get to see only their body.
A couple of medics walk by, carrying a stretcher. There is a man lying on it, his head lolling and features limp. Vi can tell by the tattoos that he was one of her own.
“Gert?” Atena's little voice manages to chill them worse than the literal corpse the medics just left with. “Isn't that Soleil's dad?”
Gert squeezes her sister into a hug again, not letting her look in that direction.
“You really should have stayed at the base,” she says, without condemning or condoning.
Vi closes her eyes.
The war is over. It is the cost that remains.
***
The losses are, admittedly, not as bad as they could have been. A lot of people lost their homes, their workplaces, their locations of leisure. It's fine because those can be rebuild. But who will return that crying woman her husband? Who will find that little girl her mother? Who will grow that boy a new sibling?
They hold a wake, both Piltovian and Zaunite people. They write down the names of those who have been lost and put them into a giant bowl. After that, they are burned.
Vi watches the sparks fly into the night sky, taking Loris' and Vander's papers with them. Then, she switches to those who caused this.
A lot of Piltovans look solemn, but also shell-shocked. It's like their whole world turned upside down, showing them that the peace they were living in was a fake one. That their precious progress had a cost—and it came with blood. That, ultimately, it was not Zaun they were supposed to fear, but themselves.
They look like they have learned their lesson. All that is left is for their memory to not turn out to be a short-term one.
Prevention of the cycle goes both ways, after all.
***
The first year goes by roughly. Not only the population and the infrastructure of Zaun took a hit, but also their adjustment mechanisms.
The problem with war is that once you have lived in it long enough, you forget what it's like to live a normal life. Your mind and body are so accustomed to the constant fight-or-flight mode that they simply don't know anything else. So when they bombard you with triggers, panic attacks and nightmares, what is there to do but bury yourself in action?
Vi submerges herself in work. She cuts wood and sheets of metal for the new houses, attends meetings with Sevika, tends to the gardens planted at the Firelights base, trains people. She avoids thinking about anything other than work. She does not think of how her hands tremble if she's too stressed, how her whole being demands she get just one drink despite her barely alive liver, how sometimes it's hard to not only get out of bed, but also move—
Ekko is practically the same. He attends the meetings along with Vi, plans projects, goes over Zaun's future medical and educational systems. He does not tell anybody how he falls asleep at his table more than in his bed, how sleeping is also a chore sometimes because his survivor's guilt is eating him alive, how he wasn't there to save all of those lives—
Jinx is no better. She helps with the fixing and the rebuilding, puts her inventions to good use, scavenges the trash heap with the local kids. She doesn't want to, but she still hallucinates, wakes up screaming for Isha, snaps at her loved ones when they try to coax her into talking about it, and avoids children out of fear of destroying them with her mere presence, and how she sometimes checks Vi's or Ekko's heartbeat because she needs to know that they're here, that she didn't imagine any of this—
At times, they feel like they stay in place and never really go anywhere. At times, they feel like this is what they will know their whole lives. At times, they feel hopeless.
But eventually, it does get better. Because they are not alone in this. They have each other and the entirety of Zaun to lean on.
Vi makes a friend. She and Gert stay in touch and hit it off pretty well. Which is good—Vi never had loved ones outside of her family, if you don't count Caitlyn. They go through a lot together: the talks, the tears, the building, and even the discovery of a place Vi could call her own. They also help each other navigate the tricky thing that is sisterhood, which inadvertently leads to Gert becoming Jinx's friend as well.
Ekko, at some point, gets a place of his own too. He is still his people's leader, but The Firelights lose their necessity as an oppositionist group. Instead, they become a community center with a build-in orphanage. He visits it regularly, having discovered his affinity for teaching. After a while, Vi joins him. He even manages to rope Jinx into it too, despite her fears, their relationship better than ever.
Out of the three, Jinx has the hardest time adjusting. But with Vi's and Ekko's support, she starts to let go of the shield she had to create in order to survive. She takes a huge part in fixing the filters, the water supply, and the buildings. She invents whatever she wants and paints all she wants. Especially over her murals, replacing a good chunk of them with Isha, so that everybody knows and remembers of her sacrifice. And, of course, her relationship with her family becomes an ironclad bond, making Jinx feel loved, and loved right.
Things will never be perfect. Years of propaganda and oppression do not die overnight. But they are better. With the support of both Piltovans and Zaunites the cities grow—especially Zaun.
Zaun is healing. Zaun is being built, truly. Soon it will feel like home.
And yet, Jinx can't help but let her gaze linger on the horizon.
It's stupid. But there are times when she feels like Zaun is just... not enough for her, she supposes? Not because she hates it, but because she stayed in it for so long she forgot that there is so much more than what she got to experience. Her trauma made her laser-focused on everything that went wrong in her life, blurring her metaphorical glasses. But now that they're clear, she realizes that she wants to feel it. To see the entire world not from her box of self-loathing and limitation, but as it is. And that she won't be able to do so by staying in one place, especially one that made her go through so much heartbreak.
Which is why at some point during the second year Jinx decides that it's time.
***
Ekko is the first one she tells.
“You're serious about this, huh,” he comments, sitting on the railing of a blimp Sevika has helped her obtain and watching her sort her stuff.
“Yup,” answers Jinx, rolling up a map.
“Why, though?” He shifts his weight onto another foot.
Jinx shrugs idly.
“I… can't really explain it. It's just something I need to do, that's all.”
He eyes her, attentive. Jinx does not look in his direction.
“I thought we were good.”
That makes her pause.
“Yeah. We are.” She gives him a confused look.
Ekko crosses his hands.
“Then why does it feel like you're running?”
Jinx puts the compass she's holding down.
“I'm not running away.”
“Then you won't mind me asking what exactly you're planning on doing once you leave Zaun?”
Oh. So that's what this is about. Jinx walks over to him and sits on the railing.
“Ekko, I'm not going to kill myself.” He never got over the fact that she almost ended her life while he was off in the alternate timeline. Not truly. “I'm leaving because… well, because I have to. Can't put it any better than that.”
Ekko looks at her, somewhat calmer, but still suspicious.
“Can you try?”
She breathes through her nose. The ocean breeze ruffles her hair.
“Okay, you know how you had to accept that you can't save me?”
"Yeah?"
“I thought about it, and… you were right. You can't. Nobody can.” She dangles her feet. “Just like nobody can save you, or Vi, or anyone, really.”
She looks down at the waves.
“And that is okay. All other people can do is help you. The only person that can save you is, well. You.”
She gives an awkward chuckle. Ekko furrows his brows.
“And that is the reason?”
Jinx shrugs.
“Kinda, yeah.” She puts her elbows on her knees and props her face up with her fist. “Don't get me wrong, I don't hate the life we're building here. But…”
She breathes out, a touch ragged.
“The last years have been… a lot. And all I've known during those times was fighting and surviving. I don't want that anymore.” She looks at Ekko. “I want to experience new things. I want to see what I'm capable of outside this. I want to be able to take off my glasses and finally see. And, and I wish I could say I can do that here, but… it's just not enough.”
At that, Ekko goes still.
“We are not enough?” he asks, so very, very quiet.
Jinx snaps her eyes up.
“No!” she rushes to assure. “No, that's the thing, you guys are perfect! I'm the one who's not enough!”
“You are,” rebukes Ekko.
“Maybe for you. But I'm not enough for me.”
Ekko's face cracks a little.
“Jinx, come on. Have you forgotten how much you progressed?”
“A kid hugged me the other week, and I had a panic attack over it,” Jinx snarks flatly.
“You also hallucinate a lot less.”
“I'm not supposed to have hallucinations, period.”
“You know that's not how that works. And besides, everyone deals with their trauma at their own pace—”
“—and in their own space, yes, Ekko, I've been to the same lectures as you. And that is precisely why I want to leave.” She hops off of the railing and begins to pace. “Because I need space. Because I need to feel like my problems are less than what I make them out to be. Because I don't want this to be some other version of me!”
Ekko watches her, but moves after hearing the last one.
“I thought we'd established that all of your versions are good.”
Jinx stops, giving him a touch desperate look.
“What if I want them to be better?”
“They don't need to be.” He steps towards her. “You are whole.”
Don't cry. You're perfect.
Pushing that particular memory out of her head, Jinx looks at him. Then, she sighs and bumps her forehead on his shoulder—her signal for needing affection. To that, he puts his chin on the top of her head. Then, he wraps his hands around her and simply holds her while Jinx gathers her thoughts.
“It's also for Isha,” she finally mumbles.
“Yeah?” he rasps.
“Mhm. We used to talk about it sometimes. About where we would go if we just… up and left.” She swallows and eyes the knit bunny plushie on her table. Only the chosen few know why the hell she carries it around. “She can't see the world now. But I can. I owe her that much, at least.”
She shuffles closer, insecure.
“I, I know I'm making this up as I go, but I have to do this. A little for you guys. But mostly for me.”
“There's nothing I can do to dissuade you, huh?” Ekko mumbles into her hair.
“Not really.”
“And… when will you be back?”
“Dunno. When I'm ready.”
“So that's it then. You leave for you, and you come back for you.”
“I guess.” She shrugs.
There is a moment of silence long enough for Jinx to wiggle out of Ekko's embrace and stare at him, cautious. Ekko closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Then, he rips the word out.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Jinx parrots, still cautious.
He nods.
“If that's what you feel like you need, then I'm not going to stop you. But… but before you go, I need to tell you something.”
He steps back.
“You're wanted.” He doesn't let her interrupt him. “I mean it. You're wanted, just the way you are. We don't need you to be perfect or, or healthy, especially when none of us are. You don't need to be fixed.” He swallows. “But you need to do this for yourself—and that's okay. I understand. Just… if you need to go, go remembering that you can always come home.”
Jinx inhales, feeling the tears prick at her eyes. Fuck. He has no business being this perfect.
“Ekko...”
He puts his palm on her cheek, his skin soft against hers.
“Shh. It's okay. Figure out the shit you don't want in your head. And when you do, we'll be waiting for you.”
“And who is you, Ekko?” she whispers, defiant.
“You choose that. You're family anyway.”
Jinx felt loved, and she felt loved right.
She sniffles, looking into his dark chocolate eyes. The breeze ruffles his dreads, picking up the one with the blue and pink wooden beads. The sun illuminates his features, long untouched by the white war paint. His lips are plush and moist. Her boy, her beautiful Boy Savior.
It would be so easy.
Jinx lifts a shaking hand and puts it against his cheek. He sucks in a breath at the contact. She feels his hands slide to her waist, and his mouth opens, warm and welcoming. They close their eyes.
They both want this. And yet, at the very last moment, Jinx recoils.
She can't do this. She can't just seal this with a kiss when she is about to leave him. It's not right. He let her have her freedom, she will not take away his.
“Ekko, I'm sorry, I—I can't,” she stutters out.
Ekko, bless his saintly patience, rushes to reassure her.
“Hey, it's fine. You don't have to do anything you don't want to.”
“I do want this, so much, but I…”
“Jinx.” He gently makes her look up. “It's okay. Really. This is enough.”
And he presses his lips to her forehead.
“You are enough.”
Jinx can't help it. She sobs and hides her face in his chest. Ekko holds her close and doesn't say anything. Doesn't need to.
Letting go has always been a form of love, after all.
***
There is a mosquito in her room. Which is all sorts of annoying, considering that this is one of her good nights.
“Vi.”
Vi mumbles something in her sleep and turns to the other side. Which fixes nothing, as she feels the thing tickle her cheek.
“Viiii.”
She grumbles and swats at it, not wanting to get up. She reconsiders when something grabs her by the nose and pulls.
“OW!” Vi voices her displeasure and shoots up. But there is no danger, only a familiar pair of magenta eyes peering at her from the rafters of her home.
Vi sighs and rubs at her eyelids. Leave it to her sister to wake her in the middle of the night while hanging off of the ceiling like some kind of cryptid.
“Jinx… what are you doing on my ceiling?” She looks out of the window. “At the ass crack of dawn?”
Jinx's eyeglow illuminates her smile that simply screams mischief.
“We,” she declares, “are going on a field trip.”
Vi stares at her, confused.
“What, like, right now?”
"Yep."
“It's like three in the godsdamn morning.”
“And?”
“I also have a meeting—”
“I already bribed Sevika into taking care of that.” She vibrates a little, excited.
Vi raises her eyebrow and stares at her. Then asks, resigned:
“You're not gonna leave until I get up, are you?”
“Nope.” She pops the p. “Get your shoes on.”
Vi sighs and pulls the blanket off. She knows better than to assume her sister is going to let her have her beauty sleep. She also wants her nose untouched; it's crooked enough as it is.
“Five minutes.”
“Attagirl.”
After they walk out of Vi's house, Jinx starts leading her towards the docks, chatting all the way. She is annoyingly chipper while doing so, and since Vi is still groggy, her replies are all grumbling and snark. On the other hand, it's better than the uneasiness that used to settle in people's bones whenever night came over Zaun. The dark hid a lot of unpleasant characters with less than pure intentions. It still does, but only because they haven't been caught yet. Which, considering the current state of things, is only a matter of time. All in all, Vi can say that it is much safer now. She can even climb onto her roof and stargaze, what with smog almost gone from Zaun's sky.
She looks up. Tonight is starry too. Vi smiles, closes her eyes, and breathes in what she'd once lost hope to obtain. She doesn't notice Jinx eyeing her, her expression bittersweet.
When they reach their destination, Vi is more awake and finally curious as to what exactly is going on.
“So where are we going?” she inquires when Jinx pulls off the canopy and reveals a motorboat.
Her sister turns to her, her expression suddenly sheepish.
“You're gonna have to promise not to freak out.”
Vi raises her eyebrow, thrown.
"Okay."
“We're going to Stillwater.”
All of Vi's blood goes cold as ice.
“What?” she barely speaks.
“Well, not the island specifically,” Jinx rushes to clarify, “just a little ways from it.”
That calms Vi a little, but not fully. This is something serious, right? Jinx wouldn't joke about this. Not with her.
“Why?”
“There's something I need to tell you, and I'd rather nobody hears it but you.”
Vi forces herself to not take a step back.
“But why there?” The mere thought of ending up anywhere near that place makes Vi sick. Jinx raises her palms.
“You'll see when we get there. We are not going to the island, I promise.”
Vi hugs her forearms, uncomfortable.
“Jinx, I… I don't know.”
Jinx gives her a sober look.
“Vi.” She steps up to her and takes her hand. “Do you trust me?”
The answer does not take a second.
“With my life. But—”
“Then you know I'm telling the truth when I say that I wouldn't let anything hurt you.”
Vi nods, after a beat.
“Yeah.”
“Then you know you have nothing to be afraid of.” Jinx squeezes her hand.
Vi looks Jinx in the eye. Her steel gaze tells all she needs to know.
“Yes, I do.” She squeezes back.
The ride doesn't take long. As they get closer, Vi can't help but clench her fists, her nails digging into her skin. The building is the same as she remembers it—dark, looming, and akin to the maw of a hellish beast. A sleeping one, as of now.
Stillwater has been empty ever since Jinx broke into it and out of use for the last two years. With help of Zaun's Union—their current government—Vi managed to make sure it will never be used again. It was too inhumane of a place and another way for Piltover to establish control. The prisons they have now focus on the rehabilitation of the inmates and on society's protection not from "savage Undercity scum", but from actual monsters, such as rapists, pedophiles, human traffickers, murderers for fun, etc.
It's safe. It can't hurt anybody. Yet, Vi can't help but tap her foot, bite her lips, and plan escape routes in case things go sour.
Calm down. It's okay. There's no one there. And even if there is, Vi and Jinx are more than capable of handling them. Breathe.
Jinx turns the motor off, and the boat stops. Vi checks the distance—it's enough. She breathes in, then out, and wipes her sweaty palms on her pants, proud of herself for not spiraling into a panic attack.
The progress is still there. Good.
“I never said it back, you know,” Jinx comments, with her back to her. Vi focuses on her.
“What?”
“That I choose you too.” Her sister turns to her. “Both of you. I just…” she wrings her hands, “wasn't ready, I guess? It didn't feel like I deserved you. But then…”
She looks to the side, biting her lip.
“Then?” Vi prompts gently.
“Then I realized that it's never been about deserving.” Jinx gives a little smile. “If we follow that logic, no one deserves anything. It has always been about the choosing. 'Cause, like, as soon as you pick a person and decide to do right by them, you decide to do right by you, and vice versa. That automatically makes you deserving of other people. So.”
She breathes in, closing her eyes. Then she opens them and looks at Vi, a finality to her words.
“I choose you, Vi.”
Vi stares at her, stumped. It's not that she was adamant about hearing the phrase back. Jinx didn't need to prove her love with words; she did plenty of that with her actions. But for it to actually come out of her mouth while admitting that she found it in her to pick both her and Vi? That elevates.
She has come so far. They have come so far. And that means things can only get better for them.
Overwhelmed with pride, Vi gets up and moves to embrace her sister. Jinx hugs her back, a touch awkwardly, what with the boat being shaky, and leans into the palm resting on the back of her head.
“I think I want to try to choose myself, too,” she mumbles into Vi's shoulder.
“Yeah?” Gods, she is simply overjoyed. This is such a groundbreaking moment for her sister.
“Yeah. And that's why I've decided to leave.”
And just like that, the moment shatters.
Vi recoils. Leave?
“What?” she whispers.
Sensing her distress, Jinx gives her an imploring look.
“Just… listen, okay?”
Vi does. Jinx explains it the best she can, stumbling over her words a bit. Vi makes sure to prod for potential suicidality and is relieved when Jinx rebukes that with what is almost annoyance. It doesn't make it better, though. Jinx wants to leave Zaun for an indefinite period of time, alone, and is now looking for Vi's blessing.
At first, the answer is an immediate no. Because how? It's been only two years; how in the world do you expect me to let you go so soon? What if something happens while you're gone? What if you need my help and I'm not there? What if I need your help and you're not there? No, please, no, don't do this to me, I've lost so much, I'm not ready—
Vi wants to say all of that and more. But she can't. Why?
Because Jinx was right, just now. When you decide to do right by you, you also decide to do right by other people. And that means accepting that they might do some things that won't make sense for you. But that does not take them away from you. Maybe physically, but never spiritually.
And if there is anything she learned during the past years, it's that worship is not a form of love. Letting go is.
Vi loves Jinx. Fully, deeply, and with absolute and complete faith in their relationship. That means her answer can't be anything but yes.
So that is why she takes a few deep breaths. Does a noisy exhale. Clenches her fists. And looks at Jinx.
“Okay.” She nods, not crying. “Okay.”
Jinx is looking at her, so desperately hopeful that it hurts.
“I'm, I'm not happy about this,” she accentuates. “But if this is what you need, then okay.”
Jinx beams, and that hurts too.
“Thanks, Vi,” she says, visibly relieved.
“Mhm.”
Don't cry. Be strong. For her.
“Uh… See you soon, I hope?”
Jinx gives her a sad smile.
“No. You probably won't.”
Don't cry don't cry don't cry don't—
Vi swallows through the lump in her throat and says:
“Okay. Then… not soon, but eventually, yeah?”
At that, Jinx confidently looks her in the eye and confirms:
“Yeah. Eventually.”
“Good, that's… good.” Vi nods.
A couple of seconds pass, and there is a sniff. Jinx snaps her eyes open and sees Vi's miserable failure at keeping it together.
“Hey.” Her voice drops an octave, and fuck, this isn't how this should have gone—
Vi wipes at her eyes.
“S-sorry, I just…” She sniffles and admits pathetically, like she's a kid again, “I'm gonna miss you.”
Jinx comes up to her and puts her hands on her shoulders. Her voice is filled with vulnerable softness and affection, which does nothing to soothe Vi's tears.
“C'mon, Fat Hands. I’m coming back. I promise.”
Vi's forehead bumps against hers.
“You won't have to if you don't leave,” she mumbles.
“I gotta.”
“I still wish nobody ever left, you know.”
“Me too. But people just sometimes do.”
“I don't.”
“You've been doing your leaving for seven years straight, Vi.”
“But, but you're where you are supposed to be!” Vi implores, looking up. “You've got a home, a family, a community, your inventions, and, and—”
“All of that will still be here when I come back.” Jinx's eyes are shining. “And even if it won't, well. That’s a risk we take with leaving.”
“Is it worth it?”
“Dunno. But I'm gonna find out.” Jinx puts her palm on the back of her head and pulls Vi to her. Vi hides her face in her shoulder. This feels like a flip of the roles—but even big sisters need someone to wipe their tears.
Her voice is muffled and raw when she asks:
“You're not gonna dissappear again, are you?”
Jinx squeezes her.
“No. I'm always with you. Even when we're worlds apart.”
Vi is struck with a sense of déjà vu. She nods, letting out a shaky laugh.
They stay like this for a while. Vi doesn't feel like stepping aside because she doesn't know when their last hug will be, but Jinx slaps her on the back a couple of times and wrenches herself out of her grip.
“Okay.” She coughs, her eyes still shiny. “Okay, that's enough feelings. Time for fun now.”
She dives to the bottom of the boat and pulls out something indiscernible. Vi squints as Jinx thrusts the thing towards her.
“Here.” Her smile is devious when she points at Stillwater. “Light 'em up.”
Vi looks at the building and at the object. Then, she realizes. It's a detonator. Which means...
“You didn't,” she says, giddy with disbelief.
Jinx smirks.
“Bet.”
Vi snatches the detonator, laughing.
“It's not even my birthday!”
“Consider this an early present.” Jinx gives a playful bow, gesturing at Stillwater.
Vi looks at the place that still haunts her nightmares and her everyday life. At the place that she spent the worst years of her life in. At the place that tried to kill her.
Didn't take, she thinks without an ounce of fear.
She presses the button. Then, she holds her sister's hand and enjoys the view.
As the building crumbles down, it reveals a sun beginning to rise, providing light into a new tomorrow.
***
“Your tools?” Vi asks, standing at the blimp docks.
“Check.” Jinx rolls her eyes.
“Your gun?”
“Check.”
“Provision? Change of clothes? Maps?”
“Check, check, and check,” Jinx rattles off, unimpressed. “Vi, c'mon. Don't have a hole in my head, do I?”
“Your meds?” Ekko pipes up innocently, peeking from behind Vi.
“Uh,” Jinx answers eloquently.
Ekko huffs out a laugh and pulls out Jinx's box of herbs she's been prescribed as a replacement for antipsychotics. Their medics decided to tread carefully, considering Jinx did not possess half the bodyweight one needs to take antipsychotics and had Shimmer pumping through her system. It was not ideal, but it did help—Jinx hallucinated a lot less.
“You know the ingredients,” Ekko reminds her sternly, “make sure you don't run out of them.”
“And don't forget your yearly appointment,” Vi butts in. “O-or to write to us.”
“Will do, moms,” Jinx quips, putting the box under her arm.
“Jinx.”
“Okay, okay! I'll remember.”
After that, there is a pregnant pause, a lot of staring, and needless stalling. Jinx clicks her tongue, her eyebrows raised.
“Well, this is awkward. I'll just,” she points to her blimp, “go before this gets weird.”
Vi snorts.
“Okay. Then, I guess we—”
Suddenly, Jinx exclaims, “Oh, wait-wait-wait!” and disappears in a flash of pink. When she comes back, she is not holding her box anymore.
“Here! Almost forgot.”
There is a toy bunny sitting on her palm. Vi remembers it ragged, grease-stained, and dusty, but this one is clean and freshly stitched. And yet, she would recognize Missy even in this state.
“You kept it?” she asks quietly.
“Yup.” Jinx smiles, handing the toy to her. “I left it to have a piece of you with me, but I don't need it anymore.”
“Why not?” Vi looks up.
Jinx winks.
“Got the real thing, don't I?”
Vi smiles and takes Missy, squeezing her slightly.
“Yeah. Yeah, you do.”
Jinx's wavers, but only for a moment. She shakes her head and beams.
“Okay, now bye, y'all!”
She hugs both Ekko and Vi, pulls on her shark hood, and runs back to the ship, tying off the ropes at great speed. It doesn't take long before the sails are up and the wooden construction is out of the docks. When it's over the deep waters, Vi hears an explosion, and Jinx's blimp is illuminated with colorful fireworks. If Vi strains her hearing, she can almost hear her sister cackle, unburdened and free.
She and Ekko can't help but join her, not tearing their gazes off of the ship going further away from Zaun. Vi squeezes her bunny, happy tears pricking at her eyes, and hugs Ekko's shoulders, feeling him lean into the touch.
Jinx said she was always with her. And Vi believes her. She truly does.
This doesn't make letting her go any easier. Vi still doesn't want to. She wants to have their talks, their walks, their shenanigans, their ideas on how to better Zaun. She wants her. Doesn't want to say goodbye.
But that's the thing—this is not a goodbye. This is a see you later. And no matter what happens, no matter how far they are from each other, they will always be a family. Vi will always have Jinx, just like Jinx will always have Vi. And once she comes back, she will have a safe place to land—she, Ekko, and the whole of Zaun will make sure of that.
Her smile soft and peaceful, Vi starts humming.
Dear friend, across the river…
And she doesn't stop until Jinx's ship is but a dot over the horizon.
***
You may read about the war in Piltover and Zaun. Most likely, it will mean nothing to you. Or maybe you will sneer, waving this off as another case of two pig-headed cities having been crushed by their own hubris. But we know the truth.
The truth is that the decisions of those above, those who benefited from us being below, led us here. And both of our cities will carry the hurt they forced us into for the rest of our lives.
Our only consolation is that with every loss we did eventually find the will to do better. And though the cycle is doomed to try to repeat itself, there will always be people who are brave enough to step up and prevent it from starting again. At least, that's what I choose to believe.
Our story isn't over. But this one is. And how it ends is not with walking away, but with a promise of hope.