Chapter Text
Isha had many memories of that day. She didn't speak before it, but after it, she learned to speak. To talk like Jinx, to threaten like she meant it. But no matter how much she fought, the memories always resurfaced in the dead of night. No matter who she slept with, no matter who she saved. And this was one of those memories.
Isha had never been more terrified. Not for herself, no, but the battle that Jinx had told her to stay out of had her scared out of her mind. There was Sevika, fighting with her new arm- even in the heat of battle, there was a swell of pride as Isha remembered that Jinx made that- and Jinx, with Fishbones.
But they were fighting against two strangers who had terrifying speed, and terrifying weapons. There was a blue-haired lady, tall and cold and determined, with a big gun- not bulky and fast like Fishbones, but long and narrow and deadly accurate, glaring blue with the same magic thingies Jinx used to make hers more powerful. She was fighting Sevika, trying desperately to get a clear shot at Jinx.
But Jinx was moving too fast, fighting someone she'd talked about to Isha, but not a lot. The redhead. According to Jinx, she used to be the best big sister, the most loyal. The only thing that Isha could see in this big redhead was violence- fancy gauntlets with that blue glow of magic, hitting hard enough to shatter the columns Jinx had painted so carefully whilst preparing and talking with Isha. Well, to Isha. She didn't really talk back in those days.
The strikes never slowed, never allowed for weakness, and although Isha was watching from high above she grimaced every time the redhead hit Jinx or the tall blue-haired lady shoved her weapon into Sevika's chin. But something changed halfway through. Wierd transformations, almost temporary explosions, started happening to the magic balls that powered most of the weapons. It was like they were glitching, and it threw off the fighters.
Grenades went off, carefully planned by Jinx but a moment before they did, Isha saw how much they would miss by. She was already scrambling to her feet and down to the ground floor when the tall lady got Sevika out of the way. Jinx and the redhead were still fighting, but it was clear that the redhead was winning.
There was a moment, one singular moment, when everything snapped into focus for the small brunette, and her feet pounded against the floor even harder. Heart racing as tiny eyes widened, mouth opening in a silent cry of protest as she glimpsed the precisely perfect aim of the lanky gun that the tall lady had. The redhead shoving Jinx down so she couldn't dodge in time, fist raised to punch her.
If only Isha had moved sooner.
Red stained the stone slab and the stone wall and all the stone, Isha stumbled as her mind seemed to freeze in place, the redhead reeled back with the sharp retort of a bullet hitting something right underneath her. Sevika yelled. Then time slipped back into too-fast skipping-moments chaos again, and Isha was suddenly being scooped up by Sevika's regular arm. Head turned away, eyes wide, absolutely refusing to process the sight. Sevika ran with her, pulling the child away from that place like she too, couldn't handle it.
Isha managed to forget most of the sights of that place. Managed not to see most of the details. But there were two things that stayed burned into her brain and never left.
A blue braid, long and limp and spattered with something she didn't want to imagine.
A tall lady, bluish black hair neater than Isha would ever be, a smile of relief on her face. Isha had never felt pure hatred like this, before or since, hatred for that tall woman who was relieved to see the blue braid forever unmoving.
Even after all these years, Isha still seethed. When Sevika ruffled her hair in that particular brand of alcohol-tainted as affection after another night of losing at cards, she smiled like she was okay.
But Isha hasn't been okay for years.