Chapter Text
Caitlyn drew a deep breath in through her nose, eyes narrowing with focus and intensity. She’d struggled to see straight for what felt like days and she grasped now at some sense of certainty. Clawed at it with the desperation of a young woman unaccustomed to feeling so insecure, so unsure. She craved clarity.
And were she honest with herself, Caitlyn might admit that she also wished to forget some things.
Her hands tightened around the bo staff she held, exhaling that same deep breath as she adjusted her posture. Her back straightened, shoulders squared off to the practice dummy some ten paces ahead of her on the floor of the dojo hall. She raised the bo high, its length extending above her head, and brought it down again in an impressive twirl that swung around and behind her back.
She moved lightly on the balls of her bare feet, a step towards her target that had her turning once with the whirling momentum of the bo, a spinning blur of motion as it moved around her. And as she approached the dummy, Caitlyn dropped into a low position, knees bent, bo poised out to her side. She snapped the staff upwards even as her body propelled into an upright stance, the sharp crack of the impact to the underside of the dummy’s jaw echoing through the room.
Another step, another spin. Caitlyn once again twirled the bo, spinning end over end, her hands in the center of the staff where she kept perfect control of its motion. She took a step back, then lunged forward with the bo’s tip thrust into the chest of the dummy. An immediate and powerful attack, yet despite its force, there was a certain elegance to it. Like everything Caitlyn Kiramman did.
Disciplined, beautiful, and dangerous.
“Fancy footwork, Cupcake.”
Caitlyn stood stark straight with a soft gasp, turning to face the entrance of the dojo hall where the intruding and unexpected voice had come from. Her body, already damp with sweat, went cold even before her gaze landed on the figure that stood there in the archway, hands in her pockets and leaned casually against a thick wooden beam.
“Vi,” Caitlyn breathed, the single sound a bit ragged with the labored efforts of her lungs. Even alone, Caitlyn took her training quite seriously. She did nothing halfway or halfhearted, as evidenced by the brutal gouge she’d left behind in the chest of the dummy she’d just assaulted.
She’d come here today without Ambessa Medarda’s guidance. She’d come here completely alone, in fact, because Caitlyn could hardly stand the company of her Piltover associates since their return from the Fissures three days ago.
“I don’t need your help, Maddie,” Caitlyn husked quietly as she sat at her own vanity, carefully cleaning a wound in her side she’d sustained from the hextech blast down in Zaun.
“Tea, darling?” Her father stood in the doorway of her bedroom holding a steaming teacup in either hand. Caitlyn didn’t even look up from the notebook in her lap, only shook her head to quietly dismiss the offer.
“This is your doing, Jayce,” Caitlyn snarled at her oldest friend, unwittingly contributing to the man’s deteriorating mental state but completely incapable of finding the strength within herself to be understanding of the choices he had made that led them here.
Mel was still missing. Salo was dead. The Noxians had taken to their airships to hide and heal. Half of her force lay dead or injured. And Vi…
Vi chose Jinx.
And Caitlyn didn’t blame her.
So she’d come here to the dojo to be alone. To focus on something other than the anger she harbored for the things she couldn’t change. To locate some semblance of control while the pieces of her life seemed to sift through her fingers like grains of sand.
But here was Vi.
In the dojo.
Seeking out Caitlyn of her own volition.
“How did you know where to find me?” Not the most important question, but apparently the only words Caitlyn could manage to push to her tongue right now.
“Your dad,” Vi replied with an easy sort of air to her tone that only she could pull off.
Uneasy blue eyes widened slightly as she watched Vi push herself off the support beam, and when Vi took a step onto the training floor, Caitlyn took a step backwards.
One of the many reasons she’d been so irritable and miserable these last few days was because of the way they’d left things. When she’d followed Ambessa into the Undercity in search of the doctor’s beast, Caitlyn had acknowledged the minute chance that she might bump into Vi down there. And what she’d considered a chance had proven itself an inevitability. But their reunion had not been what Caitlyn had spent months imagining.
Images of conversations she’d tried desperately to wash away with action. With politics and discipline.
And with an ill-chosen redhead in her bed.
Regret twisted in her stomach like a sour meal and Caitlyn pressed a hand flat to her belly, the other holding her bo staff at her side. There were so many things she’d done wrong by Vi. So many poor choices, so many regrettable actions. For many nights after their failed attempt to put down Jinx in the tunnels below Zaun, Caitlyn had lain awake, stewing not over her botched mission to avenge her mother… but over the sound of Vi’s whimpers as she’d climbed the ladder out of that godforsaken hole in the ground.
It hadn’t taken long after Ambessa draped the commander’s cape over her shoulders before Caitlyn realized she no longer recognized the young woman who stared back at her when she looked in the mirror.
“Are you alright?” Caitlyn asked after much too long a pause, and though the question was careful with her trepidation in this unexpected meeting, the concern in her tone was genuine enough. “Your sister?”
“She’s fine,” Vi assured her with a shrug of one shoulder. And while she didn’t answer the question in regards to herself, Caitlyn could see well enough that Vi was fine, too. Fine enough to have come all the way here, and looking more like herself than she had the last time their paths crossed.
There remained very little of the black dye in her hair, barely visible beneath the top locks of vibrant magenta that flocked messily around Vi’s face. The dark jacket was gone, too, as Vi’s hands were now tucked into a familiar red leather that tugged fiercely on something inside Caitlyn’s chest.
Nostalgia, maybe.
It was a relief to see her like this. Comforting even, and Caitlyn managed to drag in a deep breath.
“Isha’s alright, too,” Vi added, and Caitlyn was glad she did. The young girl wasn’t a prominent feature at the front of her mind, as Caitlyn had only ever seen very little of the quiet and slippery little thing. “Pretty banged up, but Jinx has always been pretty good at fixing things.”
“That’s great, Vi,” Caitlyn replied softly with a slow nod of her head. And she meant it. “And your father?”
Perhaps not the right question to ask, as she witnessed Vi’s shoulders fall a bit. Watched her all but deflate with what Caitlyn could only assume was a bad answer to a rough question.
“He disappeared,” Vi whispered.
Caitlyn was suddenly overcome with the urge to cross this space. To drop her bo and take Vi’s face in her hands instead. To provide comfort, in whatever form Vi needed. Whatever she would accept from a girl who had done nothing but treat her poorly for no good reason.
But the haunting memories of their recent past kept Caitlyn planted firmly where she stood, simply frowning in Vi’s direction with brows tipped over blue eyes. A look of sorrow, and understanding.
Caitlyn had only ever lost one parent, but she believed it was enough to know what it felt like. To sympathize with whatever feelings plagued Vi now.
“I’m sorry,” she replied just as quietly, and she meant that, too.
Another moment of silence passed between them and Caitlyn swore she could feel the energy begin to crackle with tension. Not necessarily the good kind, either.
Only now did Vi truly seem to take in the scene she’d walked in on, despite the sarcastic remark she’d first made to announce her presence. Caitlyn watched her ice blue eyes fall away from her face, likely examining the unusual clothes she wore to train in. Black and red was not a common color palette for the head of house Kiramman, and certainly nothing close to what Vi ever would have seen her in.
They were better suited to the race of man that had infiltrated Piltover like a plague, and Caitlyn suddenly felt very uncomfortable beneath Vi’s incredulous stare.
“Training alone?” Vi asked. Whatever fragile compassion they’d found in Caitlyn asking after Vi’s well being had disappeared just as quickly as it had seeped into the conversation.
“Yes,” Caitlyn answered simply, her grip tightening on the bo staff. “It can be quite cathartic.”
Vi’s gaze flicked to the practice dummy beside her and Caitlyn watched her lips turn up in a derisive smirk.
“Cathartic,” Vi repeated the adjective, still staring at the maimed dummy. “Taking out your frustration on a piece of wood, huh?”
Caitlyn remained still where she stood even as Vi began a slow path around the outer edge of the training floor. Though she didn’t turn, keen blue eyes tracked every movement. She steeled herself against the presence of the very girl whose face had haunted her for months, jaw going tight with determination to appear unaffected. “It serves its purpose.”
“Why not the range?”
A fair question, considering what Caitlyn Kiramman was best known for. Her rifle wasn’t so far off, even, tucked safely into its holster along with the uniform she’d left in a neat pile in the changing room.
“This is a bit more…” Caitlyn swallowed thickly as Vi paused in her path around the room. Their gazes met again and held. “Hands on.”
“I’ll say,” Vi replied, and continued to make her way slowly around the room. She’d adjusted her trajectory now, so every step brought her closer to where Caitlyn stood. Caitlyn’s head only turned slightly when Vi had come close enough to exit her peripheral vision, and she felt a hand tap firmly on the end of the bo staff. It swayed in her hand, but Caitlyn only tightened her grip and finally spun to face Vi. “Picturing anyone in particular?”
Vi stood at the dummy now, circled around it and came to stand on the opposite side. Caitlyn watched as one of her wrapped hands reached for the dummy’s chest, fingers dipping into the deep groove left behind by the powerful strike of her bo. A shiver trembled down Caitlyn’s spine and she immediately averted her gaze.
“A few faces, sure.”
“Like that Noxian war pig?”
Caitlyn’s lip curled with distaste, her chin dipping slightly lower. A piece of dark hair that had come loose from her ponytail, damp with the efforts of her training, fell in front of her eyes. “She might be one of them, yes.”
Vi moved again, placed herself directly between Caitlyn and the practice dummy. They were close enough now, directly facing one another, that Caitlyn could see the various scratches and bruises left behind on Vi’s face from the incident down below.
The one on her left cheek, in particular, made Caitlyn’s stomach turn.
“Ever picture mine?”
Caitlyn’s stance stiffened. She drew the bo staff across her body so she held it with both hands now, held it at a diagonal between them, though her eyes remained hard on Vi’s.
She could feel her heart crawling up her throat, making it difficult to breathe. She could feel her pulse quicken inside her veins and it made her head spin. Somehow, Vi remained in perfect clarity.
Wasn’t that what Caitlyn had come here looking for? Clarity?
“Every day,” Caitlyn whispered, an answer that in itself was so much more than the conversation they were actually having.
The silence was once again deafening. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Caitlyn recognized the sounds of Piltover carrying on with its day beyond the walls of the training hall. The steady drum of feet on cobbled streets. The mechanical whir of the Bridge of Progress lifting to let a ship pass. A child’s laughter that spun through the rambunctious barking of a large dog.
Once again, Caitlyn’s gaze landed on the bruise that sat high on Vi’s cheek. She’d put that bruise there, Caitlyn thought. For good reason, sure, and as the memories soared through her head like the pages of a flipbook, Caitlyn lifted one hand, fingertips brushing over her own cheek. Just to the side of her mouth, where Vi had lobbed a wad of spit onto her face to further sell their lie to Ambessa.
These wounds were superficial, Caitlyn told herself. But it hadn’t been the first time she’d laid the stock of her rifle into Vi’s body.
Vi’s breathless crying cut through the silence, a figment of Caitlyn’s worst nightmares, and it had a sudden sharp breath ripping from her lungs. She took a step back, expression going hard with undecipherable emotion.
“Cait?” Vi said carefully, reclaiming that single step of space Caitlyn had placed between them. Vi moved forward, one arm outstretched in a silent communication that she understood well enough.
But Caitlyn couldn’t be touched. Wouldn’t, not like this. She didn’t deserve Vi’s comfort, and instead, she raised the bo staff. A look of utter confusion crossed Vi’s face while a look of sheer conviction crossed Caitlyn’s.
“What the hell are you doing?” Vi asked, her hand still raised, but it looked different. Different from anything Caitlyn had seen from her before. Because that hand wasn’t lifted towards her with the intention of providing the comfort they so often sought in one another. It was lifted in defense, palm facing outward in a universal signal that Caitlyn understood well enough, but wouldn’t abide by.
“Training,” Caitlyn breathed her answer, the sound of her voice cold and dripping with a new resolution.
“But I–”
Caitlyn didn’t let her finish the sentence. With a sudden twirl of the bo, she lunged, the end of the staff tapping firmly to the outside of Vi’s upper arm. And because Vi clearly did not understand what was happening, there were no attempts made to block the attack. Which was by no means forceful – the last thing Caitlyn wanted was to cause Vi more pain, but she had a mission here. And she needed Vi to participate if she was to find what she was looking for now.
“Hey!” Vi called out indignantly as she lifted a hand to cover the top of her arm where Caitlyn had struck her. She could see the irritation flitter across Vi’s face, the absolute disapproval that moved through the confusion.
Caitlyn spun on her heels, held the bo staff at its center and whirled it swiftly over her head. And in another delicately executed move, she brought the bo down. It flew through the air with a faint whistle and snapped against Vi’s thigh, just above her knee.
“Jesus, Caitlyn!” Vi cried out, finally dropping into a stance that looked plenty familiar on her. Knees bent, fists lifted and positioned strategically around her face. A defensive posture, one that looked so damn good on her. “I swear to god, Cait, if you don’t–”
Another twirl, a huff of air from the girl wielding the bo, and the end of it connected squarely with the center of Vi’s chest. Right through the middle of those poised fists.
A low growl of frustration rumbled in Vi’s throat and Caitlyn wondered over the fact that the sound of it did unspeakable things to her insides.
Caitlyn moved on the balls of her feet now, light and quick with her steps. Vi swung a fist out, but she parried the attack with a well-placed block of her bo. She spun beneath it, arms extended, so the staff whirled around Vi’s wrist and helped to propel her away and force the other girl's footing to falter. It left Vi open for another blow and Caitlyn’s staff came down along her back.
Still not hard hits. Not even forceful enough to sting. But Vi was getting angrier and angrier as the spar continued, and that was precisely what Caitlyn sought.
They spent many long minutes dancing around one another. Swinging here, blocking there. Caitlyn landed two more strikes of the bo on various parts of Vi’s body. And the next fist that flew towards her, Caitlyn purposefully failed to dodge.
She’d lured Vi into using all of her strength. Missing punches meant she was swinging harder with the expectation that her fist would meet nothing but air. But this time, those knuckles collided squarely with the side of Caitlyn’s face. A solid strike that made her brain rattle inside her skull.
Caitlyn’s whole body flew sideways as heat bloomed across her cheek and through her face. She felt it in her nose and in her eyes. Pain radiated outwards from the point of contact until her whole head ached with the ferocious impact of it. The bo staff thudded lightly to the floor and rolled away from her bare feet and Caitlyn let her body fall to one knee, fearful that her balance might fail her for the first time in her life.
“Cait!”
Caitlyn had just managed to spit blood to the ground when Vi appeared on her knees beside her, instead taking Caitlyn’s face in her hand.
“What the fuck, Cait?” she whispered, and when their eyes met, she saw a look in Vi’s that she never had before. “Why did you do that?”
Her chest heaved with her labored breaths and for a few seconds, her eyes actually struggled to focus on Vi’s face. Despite the ferocity of the fight they’d just conducted, Vi touched her with such tenderness. With such care that Caitlyn knew she’d been aching for for months.
No amount of compliant or eager company could replace what she’d found in this woman, and how stupid she’d been to try to replicate the irreplaceable.
Vi’s hand moved carefully along her aching jaw, thumb stretching up to lightly pass over the reddened cheekbone that was already turning purple beneath the heat.
Caitlyn’s tongue dipped into the side of her mouth, tested the tender split in the inside of her cheek. It tasted of iron… but it also tasted of relief.
“Why did you let me hit you?” Vi implored.
Instead of answering, Caitlyn lifted her own hand, pressed it to the side of Vi’s face, and gently brushed her thumb over the green and yellow bruise beneath Vi’s left eye.