Chapter Text
Her feet pound on the moving tread. Each step is more painful than the last and the numbers on the dash of the machine mock her with how slow they move. Her lungs scream in protest, her mind going fuzzy and she knows the music in her earbuds could never be loud enough to distract her from it.
Gods she fucking hates cardio days.
Her position on the field doesn’t even require this much cardio at all. But her coach is relentless, preaching about the necessity for team unity. And Vi gets it– she wholeheartedly believes in it. It doesn’t make running any more enjoyable.
The other two treadmills on either side of her host their center mid and center defender. She would laugh at being between them if her fucking lungs weren’t on fire. Both of them run next to her with such ease, their pace leaps and bounds faster than Vi’s. But Leona’s speed isn’t something Vi can even pretend to attain. She doesn’t even think she wants to try. She huffs when she glances over at the pace, rolling her eyes at it. Sweat trickles down her neck and face.
Diana to her right, slows, having reached their quota distance for the day. Vi resists swatting at her when she claps her shoulder before dismounting the tread, squirting water in her mouth with a messy display. She does, however, roll her eyes when the senior walks to slap Leona’s ass. Guess they’re on again.
She turns her music up.
The numbers blink up at her again, the small round beads meant to represent her distance makes her dizzy.
She really hates cardio days.
Being a goalkeeper requires different skillsets than the rest of her teammates. Agility and sight being some of them. Quick-footed, yes. But needing to hit miles in one sitting isn’t.
In the past, there were very few things that made running feel more bearable. Music has always been one of them the moment she got her hands on a walkman. The same one she has now, in fact, which is running on its last sparks, bounces against her hip with every ragged step. The other thing was having someone to run with. She blinks hard, sucking in a breath as an image of the dirt road she grew up on flashes before her, a soft, sure presence to her left like a ghost now.
Despite the volume blaring in her ears, it isn’t enough to drown out the sound of the small gym’s door slamming against the wall as their coach barrels through.
“Ladies!”
Vi will take a win where she can. She hops off, feet slamming on either side of the tread and stops the workout, trying and failing not to pant while the tread slows to a stop. She knows her face is probably beet-red, her ankles already stiff and sore from the sudden stop with no cooldown. She’s always been on the redder side of working out– something she was always teased about by C–
The rest of her teammates stop what they’re doing at Coach Sevika’s command. Weights are lowered to the floor, the others still running stop. Vi grabs for the towel she thought to sling over the arm of the tread, wiping her face before she turns.
Vi didn’t think she could keep stomaching regret after all these years, especially not such a mundane act as turning around. She yanks the headphones from her ears, the music still a blaring buzz as they dangle from her hand.
“I’ve got an announcement!” She says with a clap, waiting for the stragglers to either stop chit chatting or working out. “We all know we struggled to get balls in the net last year. It’s been an ongoing issue for years, frankly. And I know Ahri and Gwen did their best last season but I think it all goes without saying we need an extra… push. Which is why I’m grateful– and you all better be too, no fucking lip about this– that we managed to snag Ionia’s Caitlyn Kiramman for her last season.”
If there was any air left in Vi’s lungs, she knows it would’ve been torn out of her by now. The gym is silent for a few breaths before it erupts in hoots and hollers, Kiramman’s reputation preceding her. As it always has. Ahri and Gwen have watched her tapes enough times trying to figure out dynamics to emulate on their own team. Vi only sat in on that session once before she left, her knuckles sore from the punching bag the next morning.
But Caitlyn’s name echoes even across the ocean she took refuge in these past three years. Her mother is still a council member afterall. Because their schools are different divisions, their schools never play one another. Vi could only find hints of comfort in that.
She stands just behind Coach now, like she’d been waiting to make her entrance. Her face is the same cool and collected set of perfect angles and smooth skin Vi’s always known it to be. She wears a small smile and the uniform jacket carrying Piltover’s sigil at the heart, hair tied pack in a pony tail– one Vi knows how it feels to tug in the palm of her hand, the teasing gesture always met with a fond eyeroll.
Blue eyes that used to ground her now shake the very earth beneath her.
“Y-you don’t mean that.”
She knows being stepped on by ten girls' cleats would hurt less than hearing this.
Vi looks away the moment those same widened eyes inevitably find hers. She looks a fucking mess and she can’t help but feel the tendrils of embarrassment and a heartache she thought she’d long since buried threatening to choke her.
The rest of Sevika’s speech drowns out by the erratic sound of her heart thundering in her ears.
The past– their past– sprawls before her feet when she dares to look back up. Summer sun kissing her young skin. The shorts Vi’d worn were far too baggy and her shinguards were lopsided. The team was a ruckus group, all Zaun born and bred. Chaos on tiny legs. And then there was Caitlyn.
She stood next to her mother, eyes scanning the overgrown field and the two kids wrestling rather than warming up. Vi watched from a short distance away while the girl’s mother and Vander chatted, some of the words just loud enough for Vi to hear.
“She’s always welcome on this team, Mrs. Kiramman,” Vander said genuinely.
The older woman exhaled a relieved sigh. “Thank you, Vander– well I suppose, Coach Vander,” she said with a small pull of her mouth, accent thick and rich. Vander chuckled, placing his hands on his hips. Her voice lowered then as she spoke again. “The Piltover league has always been a… stanch bunch but,” an aggravated sigh and hand placed on her daughter’s shoulder. “I should’ve known our name would have that reaction.”
Vander merely hummed. “It’s their loss.” Then, to Vi’s horror, her adoptive father turned to look over his shoulder. Vi stood stock still, a ball held between her hands and she knew before she saw the knowing smirk stretching his mouth what was about to happen. He gestured at her with a tilt of his chin. “Vi! Come over here, will ya?”
Vi didn’t move at first, glancing between the new girl and her very fancy mother. But when Vander cleared his throat, she dragged her feet through the tall grass, her ball now tucked under one arm. But something akin to gravity pulled her the rest of the way a little quicker. Blue eyes raked over her, and Vi fought the sudden bout of insecurity. Her clothes were clean, her socks without a speck of dirt or mud. Not a hair out of place.
Vander clapped her shoulder, jostling her forward before he kneeled down to their level. “Would you be the best team captain and make sure your new teammate Caitlyn here feels welcome?” he said, his voice not entertaining another option. But Vi, oddly, didn’t feel the spike of resistance she had just moments ago.
She stepped closer to her without answering Vander. “Do you know how to pass yet?” Vi asked. The Piltie girl– Caitlyn–nodded enthusiastically. Vi held out her hand for the other girl to take, ignoring the way Vander muttered atta girl and ruffled her short hair. A tiny hand slipped into hers–
“Lanes! Make sure she knows where to start today,” Coach Sevika barks now. Vi huffs, wiping a towel over her face where sweat had begun to drip near her eye and holding her thumb up.
The weight of captain sits a little differently on her shoulders now than it did the first time she donned it. Being the more senior goalkeeper saw her wearing the band her sophomore year and the many scrutinizing eyes that came with it. The critiques that followed her debut on this team were snuffed out within the first half of that season. No more reporters dragging her name through the mud or the merits of her scholarship.
She’d worked her fucking ass off.
The sound of dismissal sounds out with the slamming door again, the heavy metal and sharp click jolting Vi’s heart.
Her coach’s command still rings in her ears while the rest of her teammates welcome the newcomer with awe and curiosity.
She can pretend though. She’s moved on. She’s not the same love-struck fool she once was.
“Vi?”
Oh. She’s not prepared to hear her again. To be this close to her again. She jumps down from the treadmill, towel and headphones gripped tightly in her hand.
“Ahri, you know more about what she needs to do, right?” Vi asks, not meeting Caitlyn’s wary gaze. She can imagine the way her brow is probably knit together. The way her mouth is turned down. But she looks at her forward, Caitlyn’s future field partner with a steely look that doesn’t invite questions. The reply comes with a curious hesitancy all the same though.
“Yeah, Cap, I got her.”
“Great.”
Vi reaches down, shouldering her duffle, the strap stained with mud and years soaked into the fibers. She squirts water in her mouth from the plastic bottle, relishing in the feel of it for a moment.
“Finished already, Vi?” Leona calls after her, no doubt seeing the measly mile she managed to run.
“Wanna finish it outside,” she lies, walking toward the door and avoiding the weight of those blue eyes. She swallows back the bile in her throat, the taste of the guilt and shame she’s carried since that night in the parking lot not something she wants on her tongue right now.
“It’s like a hundred degrees–”
The mid July sun beats down on her the moment she steps out, the door cutting off Sophia’s voice with the audible click and slam of the door. The sweat from before still clings to her skin and her lungs pull in a humid breath. Fucking hells.
Her feet keep moving along the searing asphalt and her thighs burn with the lactic acid she hasn’t dealt with. Fuck it, she’ll just be sore and bitch about it later. She hears her name on the wind, wrapped in a voice she was sure she’d never hear again. She ignores it, running against her body’s wishes until she rounds the stone corner wall to her dorm hall.
The student attendant at the front desk doesn’t look up from her book when she barrels through the glass doors and she makes a beeline for the elevator that she's sure will trap her one of these days.
The hallways reek of sweat and musk– Janna Hall being the primary athletic residence makes sure of that. She punches the number five with her thumb, leaning against the wall as it lurches up with a rattling shake. Most of the team resides on this floor, upperclassmen occupying the suites at the far end. Something about team bonding.
It’s only when she’s struggling to unlock her door that she notices her fingers trembling. With a huff, she stops, leaning her forehead against the door. Memories cloud her vision with precise stings. She takes a deep breath through her nose.
It’s her fault. All of this. She just– she just couldn’t keep her mouth shut back then, could she?
“You have such a big heart, you know,” Caitlyn chuckled.
Vi just groaned, her face suddenly far too hot. “Why do you say this shit to me?” Only a light laugh was her answer– that and a sharp finger under her ribs.
Big and reckless even now, she wills the organ to settle down. The key slots into the lock, turning with the jerk of Vi’s wrist. She walks through the messy common space, nearly tripping over Soph’s wired console and past the empty bedroom next to her own on the left side of the suite, trudging through the open door. Her bag lands with a heavy thud and she leans against the door as it closes behind her. Her molars clench, her lungs exhaling a held, stale breath from her chapped lips. She knows she’ll get hell and questions when Leo and Soph come back tonight but she can’t make herself care right now.
She can be normal, she repeats to herself. They can just be teammates who knew each other once. They don’t have to talk– they don’t have to do anything with the lifelong friendship Vi unraveled and shredded in a single night. She doubts Caitlyn even wants anything different anyways. All she has to do is treat this season like any other– they were teammates once. They can do it again.
Really, Vi was fucked from the beginning. From the first practice to their last season together, she didn’t stand a chance.
She fought every step of the way. She swears to every god she did. Fought every lingering glance. Every touch that lasted too long was just in her head. The way her heart stuttered in every shared hotel room or every match they won and lost together was just…
Vi would be lying if she said she doesn’t fight now. It’s a little easier this time, though. She’d been rejected already, the past an obnoxious shadow in her wake. It’s even easier when she doesn’t have to– chooses not to talk to her, Vi decides. And really, what did they have to talk about? Caitlyn’s position on the field is the polar opposite of her own.
What she needs to do is focus. Her left side dive needs work and her defense will need to adjust to the new line up. They’ve only toyed with a 3-5-2 once and there’s still a lot of ground to cover. Diana needs to reign Sophia and Kris in, pulling Nidalee as their sweep midfielder is a new position for her and Vi can’t… she can’t mess up again.
The last two seasons have been nothing short of hellish growing pains. Playoffs gone sideways and bad refs making shittier calls. Penalty kicks that their current strikers just couldn’t make. A fucking nightmare, truthfully. But she feels like there’s something different in the air this year. She would be a bigger liar if she said Caitlyn being here isn’t the asset this team’s needed since the beginning.
She still doesn’t know how she managed to make it on this team– Piltover being one of the most competitive schools for her sport. It was always her top pick. Her and C–
Vi avoids her like the plague the following week before the semester, the rest of the preseason taking a new stilted tension. She averts her eyes when she feels the weight of the ocean on her across the gym. Caitlyn hasn’t tried to speak to her again since her first day. Vi doesn’t ponder on why. Only that she isn’t sure if she’s glad for it or not. That she’s hated Vi afterall feels far more painful than she thought it would.
But she shows up for drills and weights over the next few days like there’s nothing new. She laughs with Soph and Leona, loud and obnoxious in moments where Coach isn’t around and when she is, she just tries to stay focused on anything that isnt–
She at least successfully avoided the barragement of looks and prodding questions from her suitemates when they returned some time after Vi left. She’d stayed in her room, her side of the suite empty for the first time in her career. She’s never had that before– her own room and bathroom. So used to sharing a room or a wall with someone else most of her life almost made her want to switch with either Leo or Soph at first. But she’ll take the quiet space now.
She emerged when she smelled Jericho’s pizza wafting under the door and dashed any prying glances with her most lopsided smirk. Soph didn’t get past a simple “You good?” before Vi slumped in the arm chair Vander gave her last year.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
The following quirked brow went ignored in favor of devouring half the box before she called it a night. Sleep didn’t find her easy, and she blames it on both Leona and Sophia fighting over the landline to talk to their on again-off again flings with women literally down the fucking hall.
“You gonna finally tell me how you know her or are ya just gonna stare holes into her,” Leona nudges Vi’s shoulder now. Vi rolls it, shoving the other girl as she shakes her head. She stands with her arms crossed as she watches the 2v2 in front of her at center field. The team is split into two groups on either side, one half with yellow kits and the other with the simple practice jersey.
“Who?” Vi hopes she sounds convincing. She’s exhausted already, having stayed up late talking to Pow on the landline until the time on the microwave gave her cause for concern. She couldn’t bring herself to bring Caitlyn up, to either her or Vander.
Leona scoffs, nodding to where Caitlyn and Ahri get used to each other’s play, their movements still awkward as they learn the other’s cues. It’s an exciting drill to watch, regardless. “Seriously?”
Vi sighs, digging the heel of her cleat into the turf. The field is new this year. The school finally giving a shit enough to dig up the dirt and mud to give them something that wouldn’t break their ankles.
“I only know her a little.”
The air is hot and stuffy around them, the summer particularly harsh. They’ve finally moved past the monotony of conditioning and strength training and Vi is glad to be getting a ball at her feet. To feel the net’s constant presence at her back.
“Mhm. A little. Sure.” The reply is a disbelieving mutter and Vi tenses her shoulders, gearing up to be pestered more when Coach Sev shouts.
“Watch your form, Lee! Stop leaving the left side open and it’s why Cait is beating your ass.” Nidalee huffs and wipes the sweat from her brow. Caitlyn for her part, merely swallows, hair clinging to her face and neck. The mini goals on either side of the group have taken a beating already and Vi grimaces watching the center-mid grow more and more frustrated. She’s young for a starter but wicked talented. Diana places her hands on her knees, brow knit with her own frustration.
But Caitlyn is a fierce opponent. She’s hard not to watch. Not to admire. She always has been. Her name carries more weight now than it has before. She doesn’t know why she would leave Ionia after starting as a freshman there, but she knows they're eating the loss now. She’s formidable– every tape of her only confirming what Vi’s known since middle school.
Heat crawls up her neck, the sun high in the sky now as the morning stretches out. She licks her lips and looks away. “The rest of you waiting– get ready to jump in and look alive please!” Sevika barks. The rest of the girls straighten up, the chit chatter dying down under the scrutiny.
The next group of four pounces when Sevika calls it after Caitlyn slips past Nidalee and Diana for the fifth time, her footwork quick and precise. Leona huffs and jogs with Soph as her partner. But Vi’s attention catches on Caitlyn as she peels out of the zone. Their teammates get to work and Vi, against her own mind and body, can’t look away.
How many times has she watched this exact moment? Too many to count over the years. Only in the past, she would’ve made a beeline for where Vi was slacking off behind the goal, eyes twinkling and skin flush.
Caitlyn’s eyes flicker to meet Vi’s, and she doesn’t miss the way her steps falter. Ahri walks next to her, hands moving excitedly as she talks to her new partner. Caitlyn keeps looking at her, though, lips parting like she might call her name.
“Vi, we’re going to get in trouble. Again,” Caitlyn said with a hushed giggle, nudging her to where their coach was definitely in the middle of explaining the drill the others would be doing for the next half hour. Their high school coach had been on her ass for this exact behavior. But really she couldn’t help it. She could never help it with Cait. For years they’ve gotten their asses chewed for the constant “disruptions” during practice and Vi would never admit she loved sharing that reputation with her.
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Cupcake.”
With a sly smirk, Vi poked Caitlyn’s side again, doing nothing to temper the long standing addiction she’s had to the way the other girl’s mouth curled upward or the way the apples of her cheeks would bloom the prettiest shade of pink.
“Violet!” She grabbed Vi’s wrist, holding it tightly as she schooled her face to appear like she was listening.
It’s not fair. It’s not fair the way the contact made her heart skitter. It’s not fair the way the years have knit them together like this– her heart far too tangled now to even begin wading through the knot. Not when it would ruin everything–
“Vi! Aurora! I’m ready for ya.”
Vi feels the air grow thick in her lungs. She blinks, finally looking away before removing her gloves from under her armpit. She turns on her heel with a quick head shake, rolling her shoulders again. Aurora jogs to meet her, the freshman bright-eyed and having no idea how fucked they’re about to be.
She doesn’t look back as she walks to the wide open goal. Letting out a long exhale she slips her hands into the worn gloves. The padding has long since molded to the shape of her fingers, cracks and divots that scream for replacement, a familiar sight and she clings to the comfort of it. That some things haven’t changed.
Coach Loris greets them both with his usual lopsided smirk and Vi knows her own drills are going to be hell on earth.
“Whatcha got for us today?”
He chuckles and Vi knows she fucked. “Nothing too crazy.”
And gods above the drills are hell. By the time Sevika calls it, her knees and ass are covered in dirt stains, and she’s only marginally grateful she tried harder on her cardio days this summer. Balls litter the back of the net and sweat beads down the line of her spine, soaking her tank and kit. But for the first real one on one session, she should feel proud.
If it weren’t for the weight of blue eyes watching her.
The last twenty minutes she felt a shift in the air. Loris punished every fumble that followed but it didn’t stop her chest from constricting when she looked up to find a familiar yet foreign gaze on her. Caitlyn sat on the metal bench during their water break, that same absurd water jug between her thighs she only uses for practices. Old faded stickers Vi’s seen erode with the years still clinging to the metal.
The moment from before stretches out now, time an unmoving and unstoppable force. It mocks her with its weight, striking her hard and fast. No amount of time can pass that will heal the fracture she herself created.
She helps Loris throw the balls in the ballbag, stripping the gloves from her sweat-soaked hands before heading to where the team waits for her at the bench.
Sevika turns gesturing for her to sit with the others as their first official session comes to a close. Vi stills for a moment, her body pulled by the ingrained string of memory towards where Caitlyn stands now.
She clears her throat, her feet feeling tangled beneath her and she finds a place behind the bench with an unwelcome sense of deja vu. A cavern sits between where they both stand, the others all taking a seat either on the bench or the ground in front of it. They’re the only two standing.
“We all know how last season ended,” she starts. Vi is sorely reminded of it. The game was rigged before it started, the refs having the same familiarity with the University of Noxus players as one has with old family friends. “We struggled and– no, no, none of that,” Sevika barks when Ashe and Cecilia start to groan the exact sentiments Vi feels.
She can still feel the echo in her shoulders, the injury almost something she didn’t come back from. “It doesn’t matter now. We’re not going to get anywhere blaming anyone.” She places her hands on her hips, eyes scanning over all of them. Skye, the new assistant coach, stands quietly behind her, nodding like she knows what this team’s been through. “I liked what I saw today,” she continues. Vi squirms, her feet antsy. “But we have a long road ahead of us. I know you lot have places to be right now so I’ll keep this short and sweet: keep your shit together and focus.”
The team sighs a collective breath, the weight of history and bruises settling like the late summer heat. She claps once, signaling she’s done and the team is dismissed. Sevika’s not one of many words– something Vi can appreciate.
Her teammates heave themselves up, no doubt sore already as they gather their bags and water, ready to disperse. Vi doesn’t move at first, eyes glued to where the track meets turf. She feels her stare again, feels the sweat on her neck cool. Her heart is still coming down from her drills.
“Hey, we still down to grab drinks later?” Leona calls.
Vi barely manages not to jump, huffing with a fond eye roll. “Wouldn’t miss it,” Vi says, finally grabbing her duffel. She hangs back still, Vander’s lesson still so ingrained in her. First one on the field, last one off.
“I think Soph might be trying to invite the newbie,” she chuckles. Vi’s entire face heats.
“What? Why?” Her voice rises and her head snaps toward her suitemate without permission.
Leona raises a brow. “You know how she is. Good sport and all that.”
Making Ahri jealous goes unsaid. Vi looks over to find exactly what Leona described. Sophia’s back is to them, her shoulders pushed back like she’s preening, her wild curly barely contained with the scrunchie she’s had for five years. And Caitlyn gives her a soft smile, and Vi knows that smile. The polite decline at the tip of her tongue.
She finds herself walking over to catch the tail-end of the conversation against her better judgement, that same unearthly gravity that’s always forced Vi in her orbit pulling her in again and again. She ignores the hot flare that swirls in her gut at how close Soph is to her.
“We always go after the first official practice. A little good luck charm. You should come with us–”
Caitlyn’s eyes flicker up, and Vi meets them. Still so, so blue. Sharp. Vi’s gaze catches on where Soph touches Caitlyn’s elbow. She looks back to Sophia, chewing her bottom lip. Vi stops in her tracks.
“That sounds like a lovely time but I have to move into my suite later and…” she gestures with her hand, the gesture as awkward and endearing as it’s always been.
Vi smirks when she sees Ahri stop at midfield, watching the interaction longer than she probably means to.
“Don’t let her push you,” Vi hears Leona say, looping an arm around Sophia’s neck. Vi hangs back still, the breath tight in her lungs. “It’s really no big deal. But of course you’re more than welcome.”
She looks at Vi again, her jaw tight. “Thank you, again. But I don’t want to intrude” she breathes out. Vi should feel relieved. But– “And I’m meeting someone to help me with all my things anyways. Moving overseas again has been intense,” she says quickly, face coloring.
A feeling Vi thought she’d abandoned taps against her ribs, long nails raking over the bones. So she’s still Maddie or some shade of her maybe. Vi walks away before she hears the rest, securing her duffel over her shoulder.
“What’s going on over there?” Ahri asks when Vi passes, her voice clipped. Normally, Vi would’ve laughed. Made some joke or sly remark. But now she just shrugs and keeps walking.
The beer is warm in her stomach. She chugs the rest of the dark ale, eyes glancing down to the two empty ones, the foam still kissing the rim. It’s something called dark metal from some new local brew she can’t remember now. The bar isn’t far from campus– walking distance. A small hole in the wall that’s reminiscent of The Last Drop enough that she’s found some refuge in it during the offseason. Her being here an hour or two before the others is inconsequential; a mere need to not see the same white plaster for another minute and she had to be here anyways.
Her call with Vander still floats around like the dust mites that dance in the late afternoon sun, a thick fog that even a punching bag couldn’t fix. The landline had been cradled against her ear, their weekly calls something she looked forward to ordinarily.
“How’d the first practice go, kiddo?”
Vi hummed, throwing a pretzel in her mouth. Nerves crackled under her skin as she cleared her throat, swallowing the pretzel. “It was uhh it was fine. Good,” she said, her knee starting to bounce.
Vander chuckled at first. “That it? You normally have more to say.” And he’s right. The call after her first sessions normally saw them talking for hours.
She shrugged, moving so she’s holding the phone in her hand. Deep breath in. “Yeah it’s… umm,” she huffed humorlessly, her entire face hot and her chest aching. She brought her other hand to her mouth, pressing the palm against her lips for a moment. “Cait’s here,” she muttered.
“What’s that?”
She moved her hand. “Caitlyn’s here,” she repeated. She bit the inside of her cheek.
“Really? Well that’s—”
“She’s on the team,” Vi added, knee bouncing faster where she sits in the armchair.
Vander took a moment to respond, something rustled in the background that set her teeth on edge. “Are you going to talk to her?”
“What’s there to talk about?”
Vander sighed. He knew only a little of what happened, Vi giving the barest of details like a slow drip over time when Caitlyn stopped being a constant fixture at her side.
“Violet—”
“I mean she’s on the team so of course I’m gonna have to talk to her,” Vi didn’t mean to sound abrasive, she swears. She crunched on another pretzel.
“I think maybe you should try to clear the air. She was your best friend and I know you wanted–” he tried, voice gentle and suggestive. But it snapped something in Vi’s spine, every rib gaining a new little fracture at the reminder.
“I think the time for that is over and I doubt she even wants to talk to me anyways after what I did so thanks for the advice. I gotta go,” she snapped, standing to slam the phone back into the receiver before he could respond.
And she found herself here ever since. She swivels on the red-cushioned barstool, elbow resting on the lip of the sticky wood.
“Damn, hotshot! You couldn’t wait till we got here?”
Vi doesn’t turn to face Sophia at first, huffing as she sets her glass down. Tries not to feel alarmed at how quickly time passed.
“Just making sure we had a spot,” Vi gestures lamely to the almost empty bar with a chuckle. The other girl just tsks, and Leona follows close behind her, eyes narrowed.
“You didn’t have to get so dressed up either,” Sophia teases. Vi shoves her with a light fuck off before yanking the prewrap still in her hair. She knows there’s probably a dent there now and she runs a hair through her hair, hoping to ruffle it out. Her training gear probably still reeks, and she becomes too aware of the way her socks press too tight around her calves. She at least had the sense to remove her shinguards when she got home.
The other two dressed in something more casual. Jeans and a flannel for Soph and leave it to Leona to dress up more on nights Vi suspects she’ll sneak to Diana’s dorm later.
They find their usual table in the back corner, the hanging light with the dim bulb that never seems to die but has also never been changed either flickers above the wooden table. She doesn’t hesitate to reach for a handful of peanuts in the silver bucket at the center when she plops down.
Vi picks at a stray piece of wood as they settle in, Leona’s and Soph’s matching pilsners already halfway gone. The conversations are idle, lighthearted. Team dynamics and classes they’re dreading. All of them avoiding the three elephants parading in the room–
“Did you see the legs on Kiramman?” Leona asks, flicking amber hair over her shoulder. Vi straightens, brows furrowing. Her gut furls at the comment and she tries to school her face when Sophia whistles in agreement.
“I know half the team is probably suffering from the same gay panic as me like my god if she didn’t have a boyfriend–”
“She’s gay, Soph,” Vi snaps and immediately wants to crawl inside herself.
“Then who was the tan pretty boy helping her move in?”
“Sounds like Jayce Talis to me,” Vi huffs.
“Alright, Vi. You gotta cut the shit,” Leona says, finishing her drink. Vi sighs long through her nose. She looks up through her fringe, placing her elbows on the table.
“Cut the shit about what?”
Sophia throws a peanut at her head.
“Vi.”
Vi leans back with a groan, the peanut falling to the floor.
“You’ve been acting all… broody and agitated for days,” Sophia laments. Leona’s nail clinks against her empty bottle, brow quirked as she waits.
“Broody’s such a big word for you,” Vi deflects.
“Don’t be a fucking ass.”
Vi hums, wanting to be cheeky or anything that can get her out of this conversation. When she meets her teammates’ gazes, though, she knows there’s no escape.
“What is it about Kiramman that’s got you all…” Leona asks, gesturing to Vi’s general demeanor. “I know you know her–” the senior’s eyes widen and she leans forward on the table. “Have you hooked up with her?”
“What the fuck, Leo? N-no!” Vi stutters, heat flooding her face down to the tip of her spine. Sophia gasps, exchanging knowing, excited glances with Leona. “No. No I’ve never- I’ve never fucking hooked up with her.” The words taste awful on her tongue, the truth of them bitter. “Look, I knew her a little in high school, okay? Happy?”
Both girls stare at her, disbelief written on their faces. More questions Vi doesn’t want to answer. Vi bites the inside of her cheek, wishing she’d not chugged her last beer. Her heart feels like a riot behind her ribs, her skin so tight around her bones.
“Did something happen?” Leona’s more serious now, but no less curious, asking without asking. And Vi wants to be honest. She does. But she’s never been the fastest to open up. The only other person that wasn’t family who managed to peel her open, to find a home in her was—
“No. No it was nothing like that.” Vi swallows the truth of that like shards of glass in her throat.
Raven hair and pale skin makes an entrance into the small bar and Vi thanks every star above that Sophia’s mess exists. Arhi looks hesitant in a place like this, barely moving further in, knowing her mere presence would pull Sophia in as it always does.
“Oh shit she looks good,” Sophia mutters, giving her a little wave. She looks back to Vi and Leona, her cheeks flushed. “Do you guys care if I uhh hang with Arhi tonight?”
Vi laughs out of sheer relief. “Fucking horn-dog,” she chuckles quietly. Leona rolls her eyes affectionately.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sophia says, already making to stand, leaving cogs behind on the table.
“Just try not to be too loud– Ahri’s room is closer to the freshmen this year,” Leona scolds. Sophia flips them both off, practically skipping to the front door where their teammate waits. Vi watches them for a moment, the way they fail miserably at hiding what’s been the worst kept secret. She doesn’t feel jealous seeing them kiss through the tinted glasses, silhouettes meeting. Not at all.
“And then there were two,” Vi mutters, waiting for what she knows is coming.
Leona squirms in her seat, clearing her throat. “Speaking of that…”
Vi raises an unimpressed brow. “You’re gonna have the suite to yourself tonight,” she continues. Vi hums.
“Do you mean for the week?” she asks with a laugh.
“Fuck off.” But there’s no bite.
When they close their tabs, Vi takes the long way home. She’s not ready to be alone just yet. Her legs are stiff and sore and her practice clothes stick to her skin. Her head feels too full and by the time she decides she’s had enough aimless walking, the beer barely clings to her senses. Leaves more room for… everything else.
Long legs and blue eyes. Hair that’s far longer than it used to be.
A different student sits at the front desk, headphones over his head loud and buzzing when she passes. The elevator lurches upward, and it dawns on Vi that Caitlyn is officially in the same hall, only a few walls probably separating them now rather than an ocean and the rift.
Her steps slow as she approaches her door, fidgeting with her keys. She slides it into the lock, turning it. She doesn’t hear the click of metal, and she pulls the already unlocked handle with a furrowed brow, every sense that normally would be screaming is oddly calm.
She closes the front door behind her, and is struck still. Boxes litter the space near what was once an empty bedroom next to her own, trinkets and a stuffed rabbit– a gift she remembers wrapping with more care than she’d taken to wrap anything– she never thought she’d see again peek over the top of a box lid where the cardboard props the door open.
And when its owner steps out into the small, shared living room, Vi swears the world stops. Her heart, such a loud, reckless thing, thunders in her ears as she’s consumed by so much blue. Her lips part when she sees Vi, and the box in her arms nearly falls to the floor.
Vi wishes she could stop the broken sound that leaves her lips. “Cait?”