Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Go forth, my dear girl. Break the cycle. Show the world who you are.

When Jinx had been younger, Silco’s philosophical ramblings had always seemed so wise, like he really saw the world for what it was, and he was the only one who knew how to win in the game of life.

It hadn’t been long before the weight of leaving Vi and the rest of their family behind had started to fill Jinx’s nights with painful tears and dream demons. Silco had always had something to say, something that made her think. And while his words had always been jaded, and his vendetta against the world had never been particularly subtle, there was something productive about seeing things through his glassy eye. Silco’s world was pessimistic, sure, but it was realistic, too. Pragmatic. His advice had always gotten through to Jinx, and helped her through her troubles. All she’d had to do at the time was figure out what exactly he was trying to tell her, with his low drawl and fancy words.

But this time?

Jinx had no idea what to make of her dad’s final wishes.

Silco had asked her to leave Zaun, that much was clear. He wanted her to see the world, and make something of her life. Something all her own, without the weight of her shattered family pulling her down.

But what she couldn’t work out was why.

Silco had never been like the fathers she’d always see hear about in books, on TV, or in music. He hadn’t been some stupid, sappy optimist, hadn’t shown his love with flowery words and family bonding time. He’d loved Jinx by making her better, by giving her a cause to fight for, and allowing her to embrace an identity she could be proud of.

Except even as Jinx stared out from her spot, taking in the flickering lights of a cleaner Zaun—and, further above, Piltover—under a rare, clear night sky, she wasn’t proud of it. Not anymore.

Not when Jinx had turned out to be good for nothing but the revolution. Not when Jinx had failed to win the fight for the real cause, the only fight that mattered.

Not when Jinx hadn’t been good enough to save him—

“I never thought I’d see you here again.”

The voice behind her was hesitant, almost nervous—but it was familiar, and it was warm.

And it had been far too long.

Jinx didn’t turn from the view; didn’t let him see her small, sad smile. “Hey, Little Man.”

Footsteps made dull thuds on the gravel and cracked stone behind her seat on the edge—

And then, a gasp.

“Jinx—your hair—”

And at that, she did turn, just to see the wide-eyed look of absolute disbelief on her oldest friend’s face.

For the first time in weeks, Jinx grinned. “Don’t tell me it looks that bad.”

Ekko’s mouth opened and closed silently a few times, drawing a light laugh out of Jinx.

“What do you think?” Jinx raked her fingers through one side of her now-short, powder-blue hair, resting in messy, choppy layers above her shoulders. Still, her bangs were as long as ever, long enough to hide behind if she wanted to.

“I—” Ekko stuttered for a moment, before joining in with a mirthful huff of his own. “Got to admit, it’s weird. But…” He cleared his throat, scratching his neck sheepishly. “It suits you, you know. You look good.”

Jinx wished she would blush at the compliment. Instead, her face merely fell.

She patted the ground beside her. “Sit down, man. I got to talk to you about something.”

Ekko hesitated. Looked away, to the side. “Shit—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Hey,” Jinx interrupted softly. “It’s okay.”

Her best and only friend took a deep breath—

And nodded, crossing the distance and taking a seat beside her, where their legs could kick out over the ledge.

For a long moment, they didn’t speak. It was a beautiful spot—a few years back, they’d decorated the ledge with string lights, and with the Lanes spread out before them, all neon billboards and chemlights and crooked skyscrapers, the view was like something out of a fucking movie. Vines and weeds and wildflowers had sprung up around the old, abandoned rooftop, creeping over the broken railing that Ekko had bent aside to let them sit right on the edge. With nothing but the skies above them—smoggy on the Zaun side, and clear on Piltover’s—on a warm, still night like tonight, there was nowhere she’d rather be.

She only hoped that, in her new home free of Piltover’s light pollution and industrial burnoffs, she’d be able to see the stars.

“It’s been a while,” Ekko ventured, breaking the silence. He fidgeted beside her. Jinx let him speak. “Again, I… I know you got my messages a few months ago, but I’m so sorry for putting that on you, with everything you were going through—”

“It’s not what you think,” Jinx murmured. Zaun looked so pretty, these days. Maybe it was the view—but maybe it had always been like this, and she was only seeing it now that she was about to let it go.

In her peripheral vision, she saw Ekko’s head spin to face her. “What isn’t?”

Jinx hated that tiny shred of hope in his voice. She hated that she was the one who’d put it there, only to rip it away again. But she couldn't leave it unsaid.

“I guess… you must think I was avoiding you because I didn’t love you back,” Jinx began quietly. Even as she spoke the words she’d been holing up for so long, her insides twisted with every syllable. She forced herself to meet Ekko’s eyes, warm and wide and brown and so, so earnest, a tenderness she didn’t deserve. “But that wasn’t why. It’s because I do.”

Ekko’s eyes widened further, and his mouth opened in a silent gasp—

And Jinx drove the knife deeper into his back, in the only way she was good at.

“But not in the way you want me to.”

Ekko’s face fell. Jinx’s lip trembled. Fuck it.

And then the words came pouring out, and this time, she didn’t try to stem the flow.

“You’re all I have, Ekko.” Jinx pleaded, hoping to Janna that he would understand. “Silco’s dead. I’m as good as dead to the rest of them. And you…” Jinx’s voice broke, lowering to a whisper. “I wish I loved you back…”

Ekko’s expression softened. “Jinx—”

“Maybe I could,” Jinx pressed on, desperately chasing any sign of a spark in her chest for the boy who loved her. “Maybe, with—if I had more time, I think maybe I could—”

“Stop,” Ekko interrupted her, but it was gentle, and he was wearing a small smile. “It’s okay.”

And like a punctured pipe, Jinx deflated, and her fight left her in a long, quiet exhale.

Tentatively, Jinx scooted closer, hoping desperately that he wouldn’t pull away from the contact she’d always sought out—

And Ekko wrapped a warm arm around her waist, and Jinx breathed deep, in and out, and rested her head on his shoulder as they looked out over their city.

“I’m sorry,” Jinx whispered into the night.

Ekko huffed a small laugh, and Jinx couldn’t see his face like this, but she knew that sound meant he’d be smirking out of the side of his mouth. “Don’t be. It’s been, what—a decade? You’re demi, yeah, but… you would’ve felt it by now, right?”

Jinx nodded, feeling suddenly quiet as a peaceful melancholy washed over her with the summer breeze. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Hey,” Ekko said, bumping her shoulder lightly. “It’s okay, really. It doesn't have to change anything. You’re still my best friend, you know?”

And Jinx’s heart broke just a little more, because she knew that now was the time. If she didn’t say it now, she might never make it out.

She closed her eyes, relaxing as much as she could into the warm body at her side, and focused on her breathing for a few moments.

And then, finally, she spoke, soft enough that Jinx wasn’t even sure that her friend would hear it.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

But then Ekko tensed beside her, and she knew that she couldn’t take it back anymore.

“Jinx…” Ekko began, turning toward her, clutching her side tighter—almost protectively—

And her heart lurched as she realised what he was thinking.

“Not like that!” Jinx blurted out, leaning away from Ekko to look him in the eyes, but he still didn’t let go. “It’s not—that’s not going to happen again, I swear.”

Ekko regarded her carefully—

Then he nodded, hesitantly, relaxing his grip. Jinx swallowed dryly, realising he’d probably been worried she’d try to jump again.

“What do you mean, then?” He asked quietly. “You’re leaving Zaun?”

Jinx nodded, trying for a smile. It felt like it came out wonky. “Yeah. Silco wanted me to.”

Ekko’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “Really?”

“Believe me, I know,” Jinx laughed softly. “I’m still trying to work it all out, but… he wanted me to go see the world. Look for bigger things.” She scoffed. “It’s not him, I know. He was probably—like, delirious or something. But it was his final wish.”

Ekko didn’t speak for a second, visibly mulling over his words. And then—

“Where are you going to go?”

Jinx hesitated for a second—even though she already knew the answer, it still felt surreal, almost wrong, saying it aloud. “Demacia.”

Her friend blinked in surprise, and Jinx didn’t blame him. A month ago, she wouldn’t have expected it, either.

“Demacia? Isn’t that whole country, like… really fucked up?”

Jinx shrugged. “I don’t really know. Haven’t looked it up. But it can’t be worse than here, right?” Ekko looked like he was going to interrupt, so she pressed on. “And I think it has to be Demacia. He wanted me to study, and that’s where he went to university.”

Ekko quirked an eyebrow, cracking a smirk. “Seriously? The Eye of Zaun, walking between classes and worrying over his grades?”

Jinx laughed, light and soft. It felt nice. “I know, right? But he left me all his assets, and there’s this big house there. There’s a couple of other houses, too—I think he was preparing to go underground, or some shit—but this one’s really nice, and it’s right near the university. I don’t know, it feels right.”

Her friend was nodding along, clearly following her train of thought. But then his face fell again.

“You said tomorrow?”

And that soft sadness washed over Jinx again, and she sighed, biting her lip. “Yeah. It’s all booked.”

Ekko’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly for a moment. “I… shit, Jinx, I wish you’d told me sooner. Maybe I could have—”

“No.” Jinx shook her head, not unkindly, but firmly. She’d known this would happen. “That’s exactly why I waited. I need to go, but… you need to stay.”

Ekko frowned, looking ready to argue—

“I’ve thought about it,” Jinx continued, giving him a small, sad smile. “Really, I have. But—I mean come on, Benzo? All on his own? The old geezer could barely manage you, much less all the Firelights. They need you.”

“But…” Ekko said, looking almost desperate. “What about Piltover, then? We could go together. I mean, think about it!” He cried, imploring her with every word and to stay. “You and me, we’d run circles around those Pilties at the academy! And—”

“I knew you’d ask,” Jinx huffed. Still, absurdly, she couldn’t stop smiling. The whole conversation felt bittersweet. “But I can’t stay here. There’s too many memories… too many faces.”

Ekko swallowed thickly, and Jinx could see tears—of sadness? Frustration? Betrayal? —begin to gather around the corners of his eyes. “But what about us?”

Jinx’s face fell—

But he pressed on before she could respond. “Not like that! Just—you’re my best friend. I don’t know what…”

“Me neither,” Jinx admitted. “But I need to do this. For Silco, but… just for me, too.” She inhaled slowly. “This place? This fight? It’s all I’ve ever known. And it’s over, now. We won. But you still have a community, Ekko. People who need and love you.”

Jinx looked out, following his gaze to the top of the enormous tree peeking into the city skyline.

“I don’t,” she said softly. “Not yet. Maybe not ever.” Jinx sighed. “But I can’t build a new life with you. And it’s not you, it’s me. I just… I need a fresh start. Somewhere to write my own story.”

Ekko hadn’t spoken in a minute, but his face said it all. He looked hurt, yes, and disheartened—but also understanding.

It might’ve been her imagination, but Jinx thought he even looked happy for her.

And he even managed to crack another smile. “So… new hair, new you?”

And despite everything, Jinx found herself laughing, loud and happy and free.

“Yeah,” Jinx said, lighter than she’d felt in days. “Guess so. It just… they felt like they were weighing me down, you know?”

Ekko gave a little shrug-nod. “Well, yeah, but… they were kind of iconic. Symbol of the revolution, and all that.”

Jinx rolled her eyes. As the protests had waged on, and Piltover had cracked down harder on Zaun’s people, graffiti of her had started popping up on walls all over the Lanes and below. She and Silco had leaned into it, making her into a symbol of the cause, and before long half the undercity had dyed their hair blue.

“I know, but… I want to leave all that behind.” Jinx cleared her throat. “Not that I’m not happy we won the reforms, but… without him, it doesn't feel the same.” She carded a hand through her hair again, enjoying the way it swished and swayed lightly. She’d never noticed it before, having been used to the feeling, but her braids had been heavy. “I want to be free of that. No fight, no cause. Just me. I want to see if I can build something new.”

A familiar stab of guilt echoed around in her chest—what right did she have to be happy, to move on, when she couldn’t give Silco the same? The man who’d taken her in, taught her how to be herself; the man who, above everyone, deserved to revel in the new Zaun he’d fought so tirelessly to create—

“You will,” Ekko said softly. He nudged her shoulder playfully. “You’re seriously brilliant, you know? Those stuck-up Demacians won’t know who hit them.”

Jinx’s heart ached, but it was a dull, almost happy pain, the kind that made her smile. “Silco said the same thing.”

“Wise guy,” Ekko joked, before turning more serious. “But really, he was right. You’re going to show them all what greatness looks like. I know you will.”

We’ll show them all, Silco had said, all those years ago when they’d split from the rest of the family.

“Yeah,” Jinx mused quietly. Something slid into place in her mind—not quite an answer to the riddle of Silco’s strange final wish, but a clue, maybe.

But then she shifted, and a weight pressed into her bum.

“Shit, nearly forgot,” Jinx muttered. She pulled her new phone out from her back pocket.

Ekko’s eyebrows rose with his smirk. “Is that a Springberry? I didn’t know they still made those.”

“Shut up,” Jinx laughed, pushing his shoulder. “I like them. They’re, like, tactile or some shit. Silco had a few, still sealed up in their boxes. Just had to upgrade the cellular module to work with modern coverage.”

“Why a new phone, though?” Ekko asked. “Just for the retro feel?”

Jinx shrugged, shaking her head. “I don’t really want to keep being dragged back home by old contacts. Only people who I’m giving the new number to are Silco’s lawyer, and you.” She flipped the admittedly extremely outdated phone open. There wasn’t even a contacts app to navigate to; everything was right there. Simple and clean, just like her new life. “Go on, add yourself.”

“Fair enough,” Ekko obliged, taking the phone and cradling it like it was some cutting-edge Talis prototype. “A priceless relic of a bygone era,” he muttered, shaking his head slowly as he typed in his number. “And you have multiple of them?”

Jinx rolled her eyes again, snatching it back and stuffing it back into her pocket. “Yeah, we get it, you’re a nerd.”

“And you’re not?” Ekko laughed. “Bullshit!”

“Yeah, well at least I’m not always spouting facts like I’m a museum placard—”

“Oh, that’s rich after you couldn’t stop yapping about PowPow’s new engine for a week straight while waiting for the new carburettor to arrive—”

Jinx’s eyes widened. She’d forgotten about that, too.

“Uh,” Jinx laughed, a little sheepishly if she were being honest. “About that—”

Ekko was already rolling his eyes. His smirk widened. “She’s all yours. You don’t even have to ask.”

Guilt twisted up Jinx’s insides. “Are you sure? We built her together—”

“Jinx,” Ekko interrupted softly. “Seriously. She’s your ride. Don’t even think about leaving her here.”

Exhaling the tension from her shoulders, Jinx nodded gratefully. She slid closer again, leaning into Ekko’s side and looking back out over their home.

“Thanks, Little Man,” Jinx murmured. “You’re the best.”

Ekko huffed good-naturedly, but he didn’t reply. He didn’t have to.

He just brought a hand up to rest on her shoulder, warm and comforting, and Jinx nuzzled further into the hug.

“I’ll miss you, you know. You’d better call, or you bet your ass I’ll be coming to visit every week.”

Jinx giggled softly, not doubting the sincerity of the threat. “Then I’ll make sure to call. Every week.”

She knew she’d miss this too. A large part of her was still aching to stay, to try and make it work somehow. Jinx knew that, no matter how she ended up living her new life, she wasn’t likely to find a friendship as deep and true as Ekko’s every again.

But she had to put herself out there. For Silco, and for herself. And now, for Ekko too.

Jinx would make them all proud, however she could. She at least owed it to them to try.

Jinx woke up early the next morning. Earlier even than her alarm.

The sun wouldn’t be visible over the Lanes until far later, close to midday, but it was still just barely beginning to light up outside. At this hour, the streets of upper Zaun were softly lit in shades of blue and gray. As always, the ever-present smog settled low over the city, coalescing between the rows of buildings. Chemlights lined the streets outside the house, emitting a steady, warm light that pierced the cloudy fog as much as they could.

Jinx watched it all through the grimy first-floor windows of Silco’s house. It was often said that Zaun never slept, and there was truth in that statement; in the industrial districts, the night shift went all the way through until they were replaced at eight, and the city’s nightlife easily went past four on most nights. But here, in the relatively nicer residential areas, the street was dark, quiet, and almost entirely still.

Silco had used to get up at this time, even though he’d always stayed up well into the night. He’d make his coffee and light his cigar, and he’d sit down at this bar against the window, and he’d do his paperwork and write his emails and otherwise plan a city-wide uprising in his many ways. When she’d hit her teens, Jinx had begun to wake with him, sitting silently beside her dad while she tinkered away at whatever new gadget she’d gotten her hands on. Their quiet mornings had become a tradition, upheld steadfastly as the years had worn on. It was a time free of judgement and expectation, a precious hour of peace before the city woke and the day began.

And now the tradition was going to die, following its founder into the grave.

Jinx looked down at her steaming coffee. Skinny white, extra hot, so that it scalded her tongue when she sipped at it. The same morning brew she’d been drinking for as long as she could remember.

It was nostalgic, in a way. This liminal space of calm quiet was as familiar to her as the smell of her dad’s tobacco; the wiry strength of his hugs; the low gravel of his murmured ‘good morning’ and ‘sleep well?’ and the small nod he’d then give her before turning back to his papers.

Without Silco’s presence, his quiet energy, it all felt wrong. Hollow. And as much as leaving this place felt like a betrayal of everything she’d ever known, Jinx knew that it was for the best.

The bitter taste of the coffee grounded her, in a way.

It was a shame about the coffee machine. It was one of the big, shiny retro ones, red with silver, the kind you’d only find in a fancy Piltie place these days. Silco had taken it from a café that had gone out of business, getting a few of his goons to lug it all the way back here when it hadn’t fit in his trunk. He’d knocked out part of the wall to install it, and had never once regretted the decision, even though the backside of it peeked into the laundry. They'd used to take the day’s clothes straight off the line and drape them over the back of its rounded hood, and the milk steamer would heat through the metal, leaving their socks and jackets warm for when they left the house.

Jinx had seriously considered having it removed and trucked all the way up to Demacia with the rest of their old furniture. She’d wrangled it halfway out of the wall before thinking to call her agent, who had, in no uncertain terms, informed her that the damn thing was actually a selling point for the house. Apparently, buyers loved butting in on someone else’s lived history, and the amount of increased value Jinx’s agent had quoted was absolutely absurd.

Silco hadn’t been a wealthy man in the traditional sense. Jinx knew that having money had made him uncomfortable; when the majority of Zaun struggled to put food on the table, having any large amount of cash just lying around was unthinkable. As his influence had grown, and with it, his empire, Silco had put most of his income back into the cause. But unbeknownst to Jinx, he’d also quietly purchased a few million hexes worth of bonds and property.

It made sense in hindsight, if you knew him for the pragmatic man he was. Why rack up numbers in one of Chross’ banks or fill a Hextech vault with gold when you could have something tangible and useful instead? Still, it had been a shock when Silco’s lawyer had listed off half a dozen notable investments to Jinx, straight from his will.

Even now, it filled Jinx with a little bit of warmth to know that he’d cared so much about her future. And he'd been successful; after remotely selling his properties, Jinx was left with a small fortune; far more money than she knew what to do with. She'd given lots to Ekko for the Firelights, and the remainder would let her live comfortably in Silco's big fancy house in Demacia for the rest of her life.

And then, as she stared absently out the window at the dark street, Jinx reached the dregs at the bottom of her spare mug, and it was time to go.

Jinx swept one last, bittersweet gaze over the house she’d grown into herself within. The oily marks on the walls where Silco’s classical art and, later, Jinx’s drawings had hung for years; the crop circles on the carpet where the new coffee table had sat, still new to them even after they’d had it for years, bought when Jinx had broken the old one using power tools in the living room.

She didn’t venture up the steep, crooked stairs to their bedrooms, instead ducking under the staircase to take her riding jacket from the back of the coffee machine in the tiny laundry.

And shrugging on the worn black leather underneath her old backpack while toeing into her boots at the door to the garage, Jinx realised that she finally felt ready to leave it all behind.

The door creaked when it opened, as it always did. Jinx didn’t need to pull the string to switch on the lights, not after she’d practically lived in here for most of her teenage years. She dodged around the silhouettes of a couple of dusty boxes, full of household tools and other shit she’d replace in Demacia.

Her hand found the door switch with practiced ease. Jinx turned the key, and held the button to open the rolling steel door.

Jinx knew the sound of every scrape and bump as the door rose up, shaking and groaning as it rolled back to reveal the street beyond. It was a little lighter outside now, and she could hear a couple of chem-engines in the distance as the early birds left for work.

And then Jinx turned around, and there she was. Her pride and joy. The most beautiful vehicle in the world.

Her and Ekko's custom-built motorcycle, PowPow.

She sat in the middle of the empty, dusty garage, propped up on the stand Ekko had made out of some factory pipe he’d pulled from a scrapyard. In the low light, Jinx almost couldn’t make out the layered paintjob—bright pink and blue highlights over a black base—that she’d meticulously applied to the chassis that one weekend before her sixteenth birthday.

Taking her seat on the worn leather, Jinx gently took her helmet from the dash. She couldn’t make out many details with her eyesight alone, but by now, she hardly needed to. It was another hard rubbish find, one of those angled offroad designs. Jinx had painted the shell a dull blue-grey, and the visor extension and chin bar with rows of shark teeth.

“Fishbones,” she’d said to Ekko when he asked about the design. “His name is Fishbones.”

Jinx traced her fingers lightly over the engraving they’d made on the side. J+E. They’d made the bike together, after all. His helmet bore the same inscription.

And now she was leaving him behind.

Jinx breathed deep, turning the key until the first click. Kicking back the stand, her foot instinctively found its place on the peg.

And then she rolled PowPow out onto the street, closing the door behind her, and took her last look up at Silco’s house; at the old, heavy oak door, the tinted glass and cracked bricks, and further up, the window to her old room. A window she’d sat behind more times than she could count, when the nightmares had kept her up, and she’d looked out at the city, longing to make sense of her life and who she was.

Jinx wasn’t as emotional as she thought she’d be, now that it was time. Maybe that’s how she knew it was the right time.

“I miss you, dad,” she whispered, her breath cloudy in the crisp morning air. And for once, she didn’t tear up at the thought.

And then she donned her helmet, and turned the ignition and kicked the starter, and PowPow came to life with a roar, rumbling underneath Jinx’s seat with all the strength and power of a very illegal custom engine.

And then she hit the throttle, and tore away toward the highway, ready to start her life anew.

It was with an empty stomach and the setting sun behind her that Jinx begrudgingly made her first stop at a roadside petrol station, some couple thousand kilometres from Demacia’s eastern border.

Slipping off PowPow with a grimace, Jinx stretched out her aching body and shuffled over to open the fuel cap. Nearly twelve hours in the seat was far longer than she’d ever gone before—in Zaun, the streets twisted and ended abruptly, but her longest regular rides all took less than an hour.

Her arms were stiff, and her ass hurt, but she would rather get the drive over and done with in two days than waste time fucking around in diners and stopping to stretch her legs every hour. She could rest when she arrived at the new place.

Quite honestly, for her first time traveling outside of Zaun, Jinx hadn't been impressed by the scenery. Rows and rows of corn and wheat had lined each side of the highway for hours before she’d even seen any livestock in the flat, arid farmland northwest of Piltover. She hadn’t even seen a properly green tree yet—

Blinking away her fatigue, Jinx hastily released the trigger, cutting off the stream of petrol before the tank could begin to overflow.

“Shit,” she muttered, replacing the hose and checking her total. Overpriced, but everything was these days.

Pocketing her keys, Jinx made her way inside. The door jingled as she shouldered through, prompting a bored-looking clerk to glance up at her with a nod before turning back to his book.

Jinx trawled through the aisles, picking up a few snacks along the way, as well as two more bottles of water to last her the night. She approached the counter and waited while the clerk rung up her items.

He glanced out the window to her bike, then returned his gaze to Jinx, looking her up and down.

The clerk hummed. “What are you running from?”

Jinx blinked. “What?”

He shrugged. “Traveling light, wincing with every step. You’ve been in the seat all day, by my guess, and you aren’t planning on stopping any time soon.” He nodded at the total price on the grimy digital display.

“I’m not running from anything,” Jinx said shortly while she dug around for a twenty.

The nosey shit actually had the nerve to huff. “Alright. What are you running towards?”

Jinx opened her mouth to snap at him—

Then paused. It was a decent question.

And after thinking for a moment, she had her answer.

“Another chance,” Jinx murmured.

The clerk grinned at her, showing a few missing teeth. “Hope you find it.”

And despite herself, Jinx wryly smiled back at him.

Chugging greedily at one of the water bottles and biting off half a chocolate bar in one, Jinx took her seat again, readying herself to set off in search of a motel.

And even though she wanted to remain in her quiet melancholy, and she hadn’t even seen Demacia yet, Jinx couldn’t help but admit that she was doing okay away from home, at least so far.

Maybe this new life wouldn’t be too bad after all.

Chapter Text

It was another twelve hours in the seat before the Demacian countryside gave way to the first edges of suburban sprawl.

Jinx had had her share of lush forestation and greenery, by then. It had been impressive for the first hour; just the same forests and open grasslands as she’d seen online, for hundreds of kilometres on end. Fat, well-fed livestock gathered in lazy herds, grazing aimlessly or watching PowPow with curious eyes as Jinx sped past.

Eventually, all the open farmland turned to residential areas. Big, sturdy double story houses, with yards and picket fences and big, well-kept gravel drives. Trimmed lawns and neat hedges, because apparently, Demacians had time to waste on improving their neighbours’ views.

The highway stayed straight and open, for the most part. Bright grey asphalt with an endless, full white line running down the middle. Jinx was actually starting to see other cars on the road, now; all stuck-up family vans and modest hatchbacks, in whites and blacks and, very rarely, the occasional dark blue. Not a bright colour in sight to break the uniform monotony. At least the Pilties hadn’t been afraid to stand out.

The Demacians did have at least one thing in common with the Pilties, though. They’d all stick their noses over their fences, just to glare at her as she roared past. Some of the cars Jinx sped past in the late evening light actually found the courage to blow their little horns at her.

These people wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes in Zaun traffic.

Eventually, the straight, open road began to wind as Jinx approached the city proper. Traffic lights, zip merges, speed limits; Jinx played along, mostly. The occasional lane split at eighty-five wasn’t hurting anybody.

And still, a couple of hours into the suburbs, every single house still looked the same. Brick and mortar walls painted in dull whites and greys, with dark, slanted roofs and four-pane windows. Every lawn was neat and green, with four corners and a white fence, and the same practical cars in every driveway. It was maddening.

The sun had fully set behind the horizon by the time Jinx entered the city proper, passing the enormous, world-famous defensive outer wall from the times when Demacia had to deal with constant Noxian raids and attacks. The buildings were taller, with more shopfronts and signage; but it was still all white and grey. Every store used the same bland font, in big, blocky black letters. The streets were well-lit, with shining streetlights at regular intervals. She passed very few pedestrians, all bundled up in brown coats and knitted scarves as they hurried along.

The only places that seemed to have any life at all were bars, restaurants and bistros. Each emitted a warm light from wide windows, doors shut tight against the cold. Sometimes people loitered out front, smoking and talking amongst themselves. Not a single one of them failed to look up and stare at Jinx as she passed them; not with admiration, but with flat, disapproving faces.

She passed one interesting billboard—towering over a big intersection—that stuck out from the rest. It was enormous, well-lit with warm downlights, and surprisingly modern and minimalistic, with almost the entire surface area dedicated to a serious-looking blonde woman, her hair billowing in the wind; presumably some sort of model, given how unnaturally beautiful she was. There were no words or letters—just a neat, modest symbol in the corner, of a golden eagle set upon a shield.

Weird.

Finally, Jinx turned down her street; a nice street, lined with big, proud Piltie houses. She rounded the curve slowly, with no small amount of anxious anticipation—

And there it was. Silco’s house, dark and quiet atop the hill at the end of the court.

Jinx rolled up slowly, stopping just in front of the driveway, and took in the sight of her new home.

It was single-story, though not exactly a flat; the roof peaked again on the right side, where the family room jutted out into the front yard. On the other side was the garage, with a big maroon roller door, a welcome spot of colour on the otherwise uniform street.

And in the middle, with two big, flat windows on either side, was a heavy, black wooden door.

Jinx swallowed dryly. This was it—the centrepoint of her new life. It was nice, all things considered, though far larger than she’d ever need—larger even than she and Silco together would have needed—

The driveway ran straight up to the garage. A clean, pale concrete, it was almost impassable thanks to the enormous storage container situated in the middle—a container that held everything Jinx owned.

The moving company would be back to pick it up tomorrow afternoon, and she’d have to unpack it all by then. But for now, all she wanted to do was sleep.

Rolling PowPow up the drive, Jinx pulled out the house keys and opened the garage door. It was too clean inside, too orderly. She doubted anyone had ever done a day’s work inside. Still, it left plenty of space to park her bike. Jinx didn’t even bother turning the lights on or taking a proper look around, not until tomorrow.

And suddenly, she was standing before that big black door, and turning the key with a satisfying clunk—

And then she was inside. Her new home.

It wasn’t much like the squeaky-clean real estate pictures she’d been shown. The door opened into a horizontal hallway, branching off into either side of the house. Jinx picked a side at random, and walked until she found a couch with a heavy sheet thrown over it.

Good enough.

A cloud of dust billowed out as she pulled the sheet off. Way too tired to care, Jinx kicked her shoes off, lying down stiffly with a groan. Her ass hurt after so long in the seat.

Eyes drifting shut almost immediately, and fully ready to catch up on some much-needed sleep, Jinx rolled over—once, twice—but something was missing.

Right. Couldn’t fucking sleep without it.

Heaving herself up again and slipping back into her boots, Jinx skulked back outside to the storage container. The doors were secured with thick chains and a heavy padlock—could never be too careful with your shit in Zaun.

Keying the lock open, Jinx stepped inside. It was too dark to see much at all, even with her eyes, but she’d packed the place up herself, and knew exactly what she was looking for. She passed the dismantled frame of Silco’s old bed, now hers; a box of canvases, a collection of Silco’s drab shit that she hadn’t been able to part with, and some of Jinx’s own works from throughout the years, ones that her dad had been too proud of to not hang up in their house; Silco’s desk, carefully packed to preserve the polished, dark wood surface—

But the box she was looking for was in a corner at the back, right where she’d left it. Jinx pulled a box cutter from her toolbox—a big, red, dented metal thing—and quickly got it open—

And there he was.

Jinx carefully removed a metre-long plush shark—his body a mottled amalgamation of random sewn fabrics, from patchwork repairs with whatever she’d had on hand over the years. He hadn’t been washed in years, and barely resembled the fresh, shiny Blahaj Silco had gotten her soon after she’d moved in with him, to keep her comfort on lonely nights.

He was perfect.

“Hey, Sharky,” Jinx murmured, burying her face in her old friend and taking a deep breath. He still smelled like home. “Missed you.”

She also grabbed a folded-up blanket—another old friend, worn and torn, a faded baby blue colour with little sharks wearing scuba gear—from the same box, before turning and stepping out of the container. A minute later, it was locked back up again, and Jinx was slipping sorely back onto her couch.

With the blanket draped lazily over herself, and with Sharky wrapped in a full-body embrace—when Jinx closed her eyes, it almost felt like she was back in her room, and everything was normal. Her legs and ass ached, but it was a good soreness—and for the first time since she’d left home, Jinx actually felt comfortable.

It wasn’t long before she drifted off into a long, much-needed sleep.

Jinx swore loudly as she bumped Silco’s desktop into a wall for the third time.

“Big awkward piece of shit,” she panted as she continued worming the stupidly heavy slab of wood around a corner and into the room she’d assigned to be the office. Even the fucking bed had been easier to move.

Then the hand trolley started to slip—

Jinx rushed forward, holding the desk up with her shoulders and back before it could tip over.

“Fuck…” she growled, trying to get a grip around the damn thing—and nearly tipping it the other way—before managing to get it to sit upright again.

Moving out with Ekko had been so much easier.

Two stressful, sweaty hours later, the sun was going down; the container was emptied; she’d had a long, hot shower with actual clean water that she could leave on forever; and Jinx had even managed to get the downright archaic wifi to work.

Sure, the house was mostly decorated with boxes and moving equipment—but she could unpack as she needed to.

Collapsing heavily behind Silco’s desk with a sigh—her ass still ached, and the day of labour probably hadn’t helped—Jinx turned on her computer. Classes started up in just under a week, and she still didn’t have a map yet, or a timetable.

After fifteen minutes of waiting around for Demacian wifi to load basic webpages, she had them—and then remembered that she’d sold the fucking printer.

Just perfect.

Vanguard University did have printers available on campus, apparently—but she couldn’t take her laptop, because the damn thing was about as portable as a sleeping rhino, too clunky to carry around with a battery that died within a minute of being unplugged from the wall.

And that meant she had to do it all again on one of the computers in the library, which were probably even slower—which meant going into campus before the first week began.

Jinx sighed heavily, planting her face in her hands. At least she’d get to find her classrooms while she was there.

She’d been right, of course. The university’s computers were sumpshit, and the printers were even worse.

Up on the third floor—with no-one around to tell her not to—Jinx had her sleeves rolled up and her hands covered in ink, trying to work out where exactly the stupid thing was jamming.

A few minutes later, she had it—and with one last kick to dislodge her timetable into the output tray, she had what she’d came here for. Still, it was probably worth logging into her unit sites to check out the pre-term announcements.

It was funny—a couple of years ago, she’d have rolled her eyes and laughed at the idea that she’d be taking education of all things seriously. University didn’t put food on the table, and it didn’t teach you the things you actually needed to know in life, and it definitely didn’t stick it to the Pilties who profited from the business. But this was the course that Silco had taken—philosophy and sociology—at the university he’d studied at.

Bizarre as it might be, Jinx actually was going to take her dad’s request seriously—and that meant caring about her education.

To an extent.

She was just going over her first wave of assignments when she felt someone approach her from behind.

No, not her—the printer. Probably for the best, given the weird looks she’d gotten from a couple of the other early birds on campus, including the librarian.

Whoever it was, they were shuffling around, fidgeting with the printer for a few minutes, just out of Jinx’s peripheral vision. Extremely distracting, but she couldn’t not listen in now that her brain had shifted its attention. The person was flipping the same trays and pressing the same buttons over and over in a cycle, as if it’d magically work the fifth time. The definition of insanity—this person might be even crazier than her.

Jinx sighed, rubbing her eyes. She had better things to do than give random Demacians tech support—except, to be fair, she kind of didn’t, and this was starting to get awkward.

“Just kick it,” she said aloud, not looking up from her monitor even though she was too distracted to focus on it.

There was a pause. Then, a light, feminine voice—

“Excuse me?”

Jinx rolled her eyes. Why did everyone here talk so polite?

“It’s not coming out the other end, right?” she continued, annoyed. Jinx began to turn around in her chair. “Just kick it—”

And promptly lost her train of thought as she laid eyes on the woman before her.

She was tall, golden-blonde, neatly dressed, and—objectively speaking—probably the most attractive person Jinx had ever seen. Strangely familiar, too, even though Jinx couldn't at all place where from. Dressed in dark slacks and a navy sweater, The woman had her head tilted toward Jinx—brow creased in confusion, her eyes a bright, piercing blue. And she looked clean—about as far removed from the rough, oily streets of Zaun as one could imagine. Like a fluffy, white cloud in a summer sky...

Jinx blinked, shaking her head to stop herself from staring. That was unusual. She didn’t do that.

But before she could speak, blondie beat her to it.

“I’m sorry,” the woman laughed politely. Her smile was bright, but polite—almost clinical. “I don’t think that’s very proper of me. I’ll just go fetch the librarian…”

And suddenly, Jinx remembered that this was another stuck-up Demacian, and she remembered to roll her eyes.

Still, she couldn’t help but notice the tightness on the woman’s face, nor the way her eyes flitted about nervously. It was subtle—extremely so—but Jinx had been trained to read Chembarons. And, for whatever reason, she was a little intrigued.

“Fuck that. Just kick it, your shit’s going to fall right out.” She raised her hands, gesturing at the ink stains. “I’d know. Just spend ages fixing the damn thing.”

Blondie’s eyes widened as they dropped to take in Jinx’s hands—but then they moved up higher, to Jinx’s exposed forearms, and something almost imperceptible changed in her expression as she traced the blue cloud tattoos peeking out from her sleeve.

The woman’s mouth fell open for a moment before she spoke again.

“Well—” she began, glancing around the entirely empty room. “As long as you don’t tell.”

Jinx rolled her eyes again—but to be fair, she was amused. “I have it on good authority that the printer police are on sabbatical. You can do it. No one’s looking.”  

Blondie glanced over to her—then around the room one more time—

And gave the side of the printer a polite, delicate little nudge with the toe of her shoe.

Jinx guffawed. “What the fuck what that? Are you trying not to wake it up?!”

The woman blushed, curling in on herself a little. “Well—I just didn’t know how much—”

“Kick it, blondie,” Jinx interrupted, leaning forward in her chair with a smirk. “Be ‘improper’ for a second. Come on, I believe in you.”

There was another pause as the woman met Jinx’s gaze—evidently unsure, and considering—

Before she nodded to herself—straightened up, drew her foot back—

And kicked the absolute shit out of the side of the printer.

Jinx jumped in shock as the whole machine shook in its place with a loud crash. Blondie looked just as shocked—and maybe a little horrified—

And in the moment of silence that followed, a neat little piece of paper fell into the output tray.

Jinx snapped out of it first, leaning back with a smirk. “Damn, girl! Knew you had it in you.”

The woman whirled around, looking entirely dishevelled—eyes wide, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Oh my—was that too much? That felt like it was too much—”

“Nah,” Jinx replied smoothly, waving her hand. She was feeling strangely proud of this pretty stranger for letting loose a little, and it’d be a shame to waste all that character development. “No, perfect form. No notes.”

Blondie exhaled deeply, nodding along, and visually recomposed herself. She reached down and picked up her sheet from the tray, folding it neatly into perfect quarters and slipping it into her pocket before turning to face Jinx properly.

“Well,” she replied brightly, clearing her throat again. “Thank you.” And this time, the smile she wore seemed brighter—more authentic, meeting her eyes and creasing her mouth around the edges. “I’ll just be going, then—”

And Jinx blinked as she realised she was staring again.

“Yeah,” she mumbled awkwardly, turning back to her computer.

There was a short moment of silence before she heard the other woman’s soft footsteps on the carpet as she walked away.

Jinx stared at her assignment overview on the screen, but she couldn’t get out of her head.

The woman had been acting weird. All stiff and formal, until that impressive kick—and Jinx knew exactly what it had looked like.

In Zaun, any perceived weakness would lose you respect. It could get you killed, and everyone from the sump-snipes to the Chembarons knew how to put on a mask—to hide their true thoughts and emotions behind a pokerface, and present a carefully-controlled front instead. Silco had trained her in spotting them, picking them apart, and learning to parse what might be lurking on the other side.

But why did this random girl at the university wear her mask better than anyone Jinx had ever seen, bar Silco himself? Why did she need to?

And more importantly...

Why was Jinx unable to get the image of her—shiny hair, bright eyes, and a smile like a Piltie sunrise over the sea, a smile that Jinx definitely didn’t deserve—out of her head?