Chapter Text
Thursday, another sleepless night in the cities of Pltover and Zaun. Cars passing on the roads, honking and glaring light of police cars and ambulances illuminating the whole city. You may ask, how did I get up here? On the ledge of the third highest building- of course who would dare to get up on the hex-gate, probably an idiot, or.. me- looking down at the city with the same admiration and hate, ever since it took everything from me.
My life has been a disaster ever since everything changed. Parents kicked me out, cops chasing me for crimes I didn't do, or did. Who knows. I giggled to myself, while drinking another bottle of apple cider I brought with me from the store. I placed the empty bottle into the empty bag, then slung it over my shoulder, cans and bottles clinging together, making a beautiful melody as I jumped down. Not down the building, down to the ground.
I walked towards the staircase, the door opened already. Nobody knew I was here, nobody should know I was here, that was until I heard the shouting after crossing the threshold of the doorway. They were already on me.
“Shit!” I cursed, walking backwards towards the other side of the roof, where an alley was in between another building and this one.
I quickly realized that the jump was pretty easy, not too far, but my ankles will probably pay the price -who would’ve guessed right? Anything to escape the handcuffs of enforcers- of breaking it or spraining it.
The shouts grew louder and louder each second passed, of course the first person I saw exit the staircase was her.
Caitlyn Kiramman, aka the Officer.
The leader of Enforcers. The great mind behind every mystery and murder solved.
We ran into each other a few times already, not on good terms though. She wants to arrest me for “damaging the property” even though all I do is draw and do art. That’s not a crime right?
Who cares if it’s on that building or some other building.
Maybe I’ll paint something onto the enforcer quarters, or her own house, who knows. I smiled to myself and quickly pulled myself out of my mind.
“Hands up!” She shouted as I was going through my backpack looking for a trinket. There it was, hidden in a secret pocket. “You little shit, you were hiding from me right?” I glared at the wolf’s paw, then looked up at the woman standing a few good meters in front of me.
“What’s up Kiramman!?” I shouted, giving her a quick wave. Unfortunately her mad ass didn’t appreciate my kind question and aimed her rifle at me.
“Enough games!” She pointed at the enforcers behind her to move towards me from sides. “You will go with me. Either on good terms or bad terms, you choose!” Caitlyn shouted, ready to fire her rifle.
I wasn’t threatened, I knew she was not gonna shoot me.
Bang! A shot landing next to my right foot made me jump a few steps back, almost too close to the edge. I looked under me at the mark and then back at her with wide eyes.
“You’re nuts!” I shouted, sending daggers her way. “See you later, Kiramman!” I then turned around, gave myself a few steps for courage then sprinted.
Hearing another multiple shots swoosh past me, then last step at the edge, nothing under me, just air and then a messy landing on the other side, with sharp pain in my leg.
I felt something trickle down the back and front of my thigh, that’s when I saw the hole where her shot hit me. Tears managed to escape my eyes, not because of the pain, but because of the anger I felt towards her whole squadron. And Her.
Without looking back I got up and limped towards the side staircase on the other side. Then quickly -as much as I managed of course- scaled the stairs into the side alleyway.
They were nowhere to be found, there was only the light illuminating the puddles of water and waste on the ground, casting light beams onto my face.
I had my hood on, so almost nothing could be seen under it. So I quickly hid behind a dumpster that was big enough to actually hide my whole body and grabbed my back pack. Throwing out the empty bottles of cider and grabbing a cloth, which I used as a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.
I closed my eyes to think back to the moment of freedom I had for a while, before she ruined it. That was after I finished a bigger piece of mine.
I’ve been making spray art. Spraying thing onto buildings, making art. Sometimes it was just a quote, on a place that was frequented, or sometimes it was a bigger piece, for example my last one.
A wolf with a wound on its side, it was standing in front of its pack, as they abandoned him, cast him out of the pack. It is the feeling that should awoke in a person, that’s what matters, that’s art.
However some people think it’s breaking the law.
Like her.
There was more of us, we were a group -before my mother kicked me out of the house- thankfully I had some money saved, so I got an apartment where we planned what to spray and where.
However one time, we were in my friend Leila’s apartment, when we got jumped. All of them except for me got arrested for violating the law… and I escaped, barely.
That’s how I got my very beautiful scar running down my face. I was climbing over a fence, which had sharp wiring on top, and one of the enforcers ran into the fence, making me loose grip and fall over face first.
I almost bled out, if it wasn’t for the kind woman I worked for, well I clean her house every once and then. She has a big mansion and she acts like my mother sometimes.
She found me on the side walk, barely walking. She took me in, I explained to her what happened and she scolded me, however after I showed her the graffiti I sprayed on buildings, she supported me.
That’s where I’m heading now. Thankfully my ankles are good, and after checking the main street, where no enforcers were searching. I ran even through the sharp throbbing in the back of my leg.
When I successfully got “home” I went through the back door, not wanting anyone to suspect anything. I’m staying with her most of the time, because they actually took the apartment from me and demolished it.
How cruel of them.
“Siraia!” I shouted, walking into the big bathroom she had downstairs. I got out of my clothes -leaving my underwear on- and started examining the wound.
It was clean shot, no bullet left behind, thankfully, that would be pain in the ass getting it out. I heard loud steps coming down the stairs towards the bathroom.
As she walked in and saw me lying in the tub, she smiled, but seeing the blood running down my leg, her mask hardened and she furrowed her eyebrows.
“What happened, child?” Through gritted teeth and concern hidden behind her mask -I knew her well enough to know that she actually cares about me- which was starting to crack.
“Just another run down with enforcers, nothing serious, you should’ve seen their faces when I jumped across buildings.” I smiled, but winced thanks to the pain, which was getting worse.
This wasn’t how I imagined my evening would go. I felt peaceful and free, but then she had to ruin it. I hate her, more than anything.
But my curiosity always spiked, some of the graffiti was still on the places I left them. Like the one on the inside of her mansions fence, don’t ask me how she didn’t catch me. I slipped right through her fingers.
Or the one in the park, on the theatre building? It was iconic. Birds and animals watching a woman sing, mesmerized by her beauty and beautiful voice.
How can anyone hate this stuff? I love art, art is my passion and hobby. If it weren’t for colors and music too, then I wouldn’t be even alive. It’s my live, all of this i’m doing.
Nothing can make me stop.
“Hello!? Y/N !?” Siraia shook me back to my body, as I was floating between my thoughts, If I ever get lost in them again, just slap me. It works better.
I looked at her sheepishly, smiling from ear to ear. “Sorry, lost in my thoughts again.” I looked down at the wound and found the cloth gone and the first hole was already stitched.
“Damn, you’re quick.” I laughed out. Pulling myself up and on my side so she can stitch the other side.
“I have to be, so you don’t bleed out here in my tub. Not a good sight, let me tell you.” She pinched my side and helped me turn more around.
After she was done with stitching, she helped me stand and rinse out the blood. “I drew the wolves.” I murmured, looking down at the wound, running my finger around it.
It was red and ugly, I hope I won’t get an infection in it. “Let me just wrap it and then we will talk, okay?” She caressed my cheek and grabbed a bandage.
This woman is so kind.
I can’t let her be involved in this, but if I didn’t come here, I would bleed out in an alley or something. And that is a very frightening image.
After we sat down on the couch in the living room, the space she had in every room keeps me on my toes really, all the expensive stuff, statues carved from expensive stones, the papers all over her coffee table.
Yeah, she was the sister to a Councilwoman, -don’t ask me how I got here again, I already told you- Councilwoman Shoola. I met her once or twice, Siraia introduced me to her, under a different name although. Said she made an adoption.
Siraia set down two cups of coffee and sat down next to me. I was already dressed into my more comfortable stuff.
“So tell me, what happened?” She asked, grabbing one cup and taking a small sip. All she did was just look at me with curiosity and concern.
I sighed, leaning against the back of the couch, eyes closing. “What happened? The same thing every time. I make art and she ruins it. She ruins the peaceful feeling afterwards.”
“You know I support you, but isn’t this a little too much? Shouldn’t you at least keep it down for a while?” I felt her place her hand on my shoulder in comfort.
Opening my eyes, I looked at her, she had a lopsided smile on her face, her concern evident. “I probably should. This is all I have and I don’t want to lose it.” My hand found its place on her own and the smile which showed up on my lips was a sad one.
Just for a while, no more sneaking out.
Just for a while, no more art on the streets.
Just for a while, calmness.
“I heard you say you drew the wolves? The ones we drew together?” Siraia asked, she had a part in this too. It was too late.
“Yeah, the big bad wolves. Although the meaning behind it is sad, but some people can’t actually recognize feelings, not like you.” I leaned against her, my head on her shoulder and eyes closed.
She was like my mother.
No.
She is my mother.
This is my new life, although with some habits of the past life, which is fun.
I’m having too much fun.
Note the sarcasm.
"You should rest a bit. We have to attend a ceremony, or a celebration rather. My sister's wife is pregnant, they finally found a donor." Siraia spoke with excitement. It almost spilled from her as I watched her from my place next to her, feeling smile creep up on my face.
I was happy for them. They've been looking for that donor for a long time and hearing this made me excited too. "That's great! I can't wait for it to be out and babbling nonsense." I laughed and pulled away from Siraia, standing up and gathering the cups to clean them.
It was going to be a few days until the celebration happens, in the mean time I'm going to think of a gift to give to them. Maybe something about a new life. I know what I'll draw.
"Thinking about something?" Siraia pulled me back from my thoughts, bringing me back into the reality as I felt the water slightly start to burn the skin on my hands. "Yeah." I breathe out, turning the tap off and drying my hands onto the cloth.
"I think I know what I'll draw them." I smiled at her.
That is where I'm right now. In my art studio. Well, my mom's art studio, but she said that it's mine too now, since I live with her. A lot of canvases full of colors and also those with no color. Empty ones stacked on top of each other, a lot of different sizes. I wouldn't say that it's dirty here, for an artist it's pretty clean, no spilled paint on the ground. Although there is a stack of dirty cloths on the ground in the corner.
I swipe the brush on the palette, gathering a small amount of dark green and applying it on the canvas. The last strokes of my wrist and the painting is almost done. Only to add small details which will withdraw the emotion of new born. A blooming flower, under a ray of sunlight. In the background in small details are different kinds of flowers, from lilies to roses in light colors so they don't stand out.
There is also a light stream of water going behind the flower, the reflection showing beauty of the flower, as it's even more beautiful if it sees itself.
Suddenly my mind is somewhere else as I add blue detail to the flower, it takes me to that blue eyed, blue haired person and I scowl. Stop thinking about her. I scold myself, but guess what. It doesn't work.
We encountered each other a few times. Even in civil, when I wasn't doing any "crime", on many celebrations of Piltover, I saw her a few times when I was out with Shoola and her wife -they have been taking me shopping and on trips with them, they have a dog so I've been taking care of her too, going on walks every now and then.
Piltover knows me as Siraia's adoptive daughter, Evelynn Haut. Siraia's husband unfortunately died before she adopted me, that's why I have that last name. It was his. Even though I'm not that popular among Piltovans, every time we are somewhere, they greet me with my name as if I was the daily gossip in the morning. It was maddening.
That's how my "alter ego" is slightly close to Caitlyn Kiramman, even though I silently hate her, there is something about her, that I can't pinpoint. Maybe the way her hair always flows perfectly down her shoulders, or how her eyes sparkle with mischief and hate when she catches me spray-painting on the streets, or in curiousness and admiration when we meet each other on the street, her wearing her infamous enforcer outfit, or the perfectly tailored pantsuit or dress.
I curse at myself as I accidentally swipe the brush on the canvas, creating a disgusting yellow streak going from the center to the corner of the canvas. "Fuck!" I yell out, throwing the palette on the ground and the brush across the room.
"Woah, there tiger. Something is bothering you. What is it?" I whipped my head around towards the sound of Siraia's voice coming from the doorway. The door is opened and she is walking in, holding a cup of something.
The smell gets to me and it is tea, my favorite. Apple with cinnamon. Nerves in my body immediately wash out, the tension in my shoulders relaxing and my body moving itself to meet her halfway. "My favorite tea, thank you mom." I whisper out, grabbing the tea from her hands and taking a sip even though its still scorching hot.
I hear mom hum, catching my attention as I open my eyes to look at her, then look behind me as I didn't see her in front of me. I didn't even notice her moving. "That's beautiful. Is it finished already?" She asked softly, turning her head to look at me. I frowned when my eyes scanned the painting again.
"No, it's ruined." I sigh, plopping down onto the couch which was in the middle of the room -weirdly positioned, I know- "How come?" She asked, still not understanding what I meant.
I placed the cup onto the ground and walked up to her quickly -as quickly as I could of course- I angrily pointed at the yellow streak, which was getting on my nerves and wanted me to do things -like throw my hand through the middle, punch a hole through it.
"You see this? Ah! It gets on my nerves and its only because of her!" I stomped on the ground with my bad leg and winced, clutching it tightly as Siraia helped me walk towards the couch slowly.
"Because of Caitlyn? That cop?" Siraia knew about everything. I always tell her everything, because I know she's on my side and she would never give me up.
I nodded and sighed loudly, grabbing the cup from the ground and taking a sip, it was already getting cold and I didn't like that.
Not knowing how to act in front of Caitlyn is getting harder and harder. If she finds out I'm someone who she's been chasing after for a few years now, she would arrest me on the spot. "She's never been on my mind for longer than a few minutes, but now? It feels like she's embedded in it, engraved and stuck." I say defeated, eyes closing as I felt todays weight press down on my shoulders.
"I should go to sleep. I'll throw out the painting tomorrow." I said more to myself than to Siraia. Finishing the tea, I saw her admiring the work again. And I pulled my sight away, before looking back at it. "You know, imperfect things are sometimes perfect, and I think this is the great example." Siraia placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "The yellow streak is blending in perfectly. Bright and vibrant sun beam. If added a little details it would bring warmth into the whole painting." Her words made me look up as she stood up and walked towards the door, holding the empty cup I didn't even notice vanish from my hands.
"Good night, darling." She smiled at me before walking out of the room, leaving me in the dim light as my thought swirled like a tornado.
I cast another look at the painting.
A face flashed in my mind.
Her face.
"What are you dong to me Kiramman?" I whispered. Standing up and walking towards the station. Running a hand over the drying paint. "Just what are you doing to me..." I murmured under my nose.
Little did I know that the painting was actually not about new life being born.