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You've been gone two weeks. Piltover has seen nothing but rain since.
When asked by nosy insensitive aristocrats, Caitlyn says the answer she practiced. You disappeared in the night and they're doing everything they can to find you. But Caitlyn is your big sister. She knows you. she knows you disappeared long before that night and that you don't want to be found.
She saw it in the way you slowly started to withdraw from everyone. Everyone, even her. You'd come to dinner later and later until you stopped showing all together; leaving the family worried for hours on end. then you'd come home, looking a kind of tired that frightened her to the very core of her heart. Stern and concerned, mom and dad would lecture you and offer you leftovers. You'd decline, muttering something along the lines of "I'm not hungry." or "I already ate." Then the cycle would repeat itself. Over and over and over.
She tried her best to pull you back in. More sleepovers, more sister days out. Anything to keep you above shore, to let you know that people—that she still needed you. It worked for a while. The two of you spent several nights giggling in her bed; Doing makeovers and gossiping like you were kids again. However, when the lights would dim and the two of you would get ready for bed the light behind your eyes would disappear. Like you were alone with thoughts you just couldn't shake. It hurt because she made a promise to never leave you alone, and now she couldn't even keep it. Her little sister. Her sweet, darling, little sister. She was struggling and she couldn't help.
She should've been able to help.
Caitlyn still remembers the last words the two of you exchanged before you disappeared.
For the first time in months, you joined the family for breakfast. You put on your most pleasant facade and chatted to mom and dad. The conversation was so simple. So easy after months of dullness from you. It made her uneasy. She ignored her gut, and that was her first mistake.
After your parents left the table, you turned to her. The smile on your face was suddenly softer, more real, and slightly solemn. She still remembers how her heart dropped to her stomach.
"…I haven't been the easiest to deal with lately."
The second the words came out of your mouth in that self-deprecating tone, she rushes to correct them. You kept going before she could.
"I haven't been feeling too well lately. I know you know that." You paused to take a breath before continuing. "I want you to know that I appreciate everything you've been doing. Or—trying to do. You're my best friend. My big sister. I'm not sure what I'd do without you."
Caitlyn's eyes stung with tears. She wasn't sure what to make of your sudden monologue of love for her. She tilts her head as you push a small gift box toward her. She was half expecting it to be come kind of prank. Honestly with the way you had been acting, she would've appreciated whatever kind of strange thing or maybe even substance was in it. To her surprise it wasn't either of those things. It was just a bracelet. A sort of wonky, handmade bracelet with her initials spelled out in beads. It was obvious that you'd put a lot of care into it.
"I made it so we could match." You mumbled softly. Her heart warmed as you held out your wrist to reveal your matching bracelet. The color pallet was opposite hers, but they still matched. It was fitting for the two of you. Without thinking twice about it she swapped her bracelet for yours. She's wears your initials and you wear yours. You share a hug and an I love you, then Caitlyn goes to training. Something in her gut tells her not to go. To turn around and stay with you for the day. But she ignored it and she knows she'll regret it for the rest of her life.
When she returned home that night instead of being greeted with her over enthusiastic little sister, she's gets a tight arm around her shoulder from her father as he carefully explains that all your special things and some clothes are gone from your room. She remembers how his voice faded out the second she heard the word 'gone.' How she bolted out of his grip and past her nearly-hysterical mother, who was demanding the force put out search parties over the phone. She ran up to your bedroom as if by some miracle you'd still be there. As if it were all some fucked up joke. But you weren't there. You were really gone. Vanished. No word, not even a note.
Caitlyn knows you don't want to be found. But she'll never stop looking. Not when the search parties retire, or when her family tries to move on, or when people start to forget there ever was another Kiramman sister. She'll look at your initials on her wrist and remind herself that she has a sister; one that she'll see again one day. No matter what.