Chapter Text
2012, Piltover.
Everyone knew who she was. But no one knew her opponent.
It made her knees feel weaker than usual, but she also knew the truth: she was simply better.
That was why she smoked. Because she already knew how it was going to end.
Vi stood outside the rink, leaning against the wall with a cigarette in hand and a mocking smile on her face.
She wanted to win. She knew she was going to win.
Violet was the best center the Zaun Vipers had ever had, across both the men’s and women’s teams. No one could rival Vi. Once her blades hit the ice, everything else faded into the background. She owned the rink, and anyone who dared stand in front of her.
Or at least, that’s how things had been, until the Piltover Sentinels added someone new to their team. Someone new who, without even being officially revealed, was suddenly everywhere. Vi was sick of hearing about her, reading about her… and fearing her.
She took another drag from her cigarette, the smile slipping from her face when she noticed a pair of piercing blue eyes locked onto hers.
“Name?” Vi asked, crushing the cigarette against the wall and waiting for the girl to hand her a pen to sign an autograph.
The girl laughed. It was a sound that broke the tension, sweet beneath it all… maybe even a little unsettling.
“I’m not a fan.”
Vi narrowed her eyes. She had long blue hair pulled back into a ponytail that suited her a little too well. Her cheeks were a little flushed, but only because she had just come from practice.
Nothing else.
“Then stop staring at me like that. It’s creepy,” Vi growled, rolling her eyes.
She put her hands in her pockets, looking at her up and down. "I just wanted to see my rival in the flesh.”
Vi swallowed hard. “So it's... it's you.”
The girl nodded, stepping closer. “Caitlyn Kiramman. The one who’s going to end your streak.”
The short distance between them let Cait’s scent reach Vi, stealing the breath from her lungs.
She didn’t smell expensive.
She smelled like a genuine threat.
“In your dreams, Kiramman.”
Cait didn’t say another word. She only winked, fully aware that Vi’s cheeks would end up redder than when the conversation had started.
“Welcome to one of the first matches of the 2012 season!” the commentator boomed over the speakers. “Today, the Zaun Vipers face off against the Piltover Sentinels… and their new captain: Caitlyn Kiramman.” He paused to breathe. “Looks like with blue hair and red hair, each captain matches the other team’s colors…”
Face to face on the ice, each one’s breath became the other’s intimacy. Caitlyn smiled, raising an eyebrow. Violet frowned, lips curling into a scowl that seemed nervous.
“Ready, Kiramman?” Vi whispered, her tone dripping with sarcasm and mockery.
Caitlyn laughed again, ignoring the rhetorical question. She was going to gracefully enjoy the match.
The whistle blows. The crowd roars as the match gets more and more tight. Piltover seems to barely have the upper hand. Vi stays close to Cait now, smiling to herself, knowing she’s about to add points to the scoreboard.
Goal!
Cait clenches her teeth so hard her jaw nearly cracks. With the entire crowd’s eyes on her, she manages to score again and and smile proudly.
Vi’s heart pounds in her chest, ready to shatter her ribs just to break free. She can't lose. Not to her.
After stepping forward, her face lights up: she has an idea. A terrible one. Mostly for Cait.
From behind, Vi closes in, panting against what Caitlyn thinks is her neck. Violet shifts left, then right, then left again and Caitlyn finally slips.
Slowly, she loses her balance, barely managing to steady herself at the cost of her focus shattering into pieces.
Head held high, she catches sight of Vi’s eyes, followed by a smile she was starting to hate and a trail of dirty tricks she shouldn't be doing.
Caitlyn clenches her fists for a few seconds, taking a sharp breath before lunging at her again.
She was going to win that match, no matter how bad it got or how long it took.
One goal, then two and even three.
And then the last one.
“So that’s it! The Piltover Sentinels take the victory… and end Zaun's streak.”
She couldn’t believe it. One match and one conversation was enought to lose.
That girl had beaten her in a way that made her want to throw up. It had twisted a knot in her chest that tightened by the second. She bit her tongue once, then several times, wishing it was a nightmare she could wake up from.
But when she stopped doing it, all she saw was the blue-haired girl with her fists raised in triumph. Big smile, pink cheeks and eyes gleaming under the rink's intense lights.
She felt her blood boil, vision blurring. Her thoughts wouldn’t form, her mind replayed a single image: Caitlyn’s face covered in blood, not a trace of happiness left on it.
Cait, meanwhile, watched her while biting her lip. She knew she’d pushed her luck, but she’d still beaten her, and the fact that she’d pissed her off this much thrilled her.
She enjoyed that.
She enyoed the grin. The growls.
And more than anything, she liked imagining her regretting playing dirty while she begged.
Caitlyn waved as she skated toward her, digging her blades into the ice harder and harder just to make them echo in Vi’s head.
“Good game,” she said, holding out her hand for a shake. Vi narrowed her eyes, not blinking once. “It’s called sportsmanship, Violet.”
Violet scoffed, reaching out with disdain, her grimace never quite reaching her cheeks—or her pride.
“It’s Vi.”
Two months later. Piltover.
The music boomed from the speakers. A slow, jazz song played with Caitlyn sat at the bar, a glass of whiskey in her hand. On the two stools beside her, her friends Jayce and Mel drank the same.
“So, Cait, what’s it like taking down the Zaun Vipers?” Jayce asked, swirling the glass as he stared into the ice.
Cait tapped her nails against the glass, producing a sharp clink that made Jayce uneasy. “It’s not that big a deal,” she replied with a smile, honest for once.
“Oh, don’t be modest, darling,” Mel said calmly. “You broke records.”
Caitlyn kept tapping her glass until something caught her attention. There were eyes on her, cold and sharp.
She scanned the room until she spotted something that didn’t belong.
A mop of hair, somewhere between pink and red. A leather jacket. Two tattoos: one on the neck, one on the cheek.
“Violet,” Caitlyn whispered, letting the glass slip from her hand. “Sorry, guys.”
Cait stood up, ignoring the glaring looks from her friends, and walked toward the one she hadn’t expected to see.
She waited next to her, arms crossed.
"Go to the bathroom in five minutes,” Cait spat, looking at anything but her.
Violet felt like the music had dropped in volume, as if fate itself were forcing her to listen to Caitlyn.
She didn’t say anything else. She turned around and headed toward the restroom while Vi glanced at the clock hanging on the wall.
She waited one minute. Then two, three and four. And finally, five.
Vi stepped into the bathroom.
“What do you want?” she muttered, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe, keeping just enough distance not to be overwhelmed by the intense scent that made her second-guess everything.
Caitlyn glanced around. They were alone in the bathroom of that run-down bar. It was her chance.
“We're playing tomorrow.”
“I know.”
Violet took a few steps forward, backing her up against the wall. “What happened last time isn’t going to happen again,” she said aloud. Then, after a pause—long enough to lean close to her ear—"Zaun is winning tomorrow night."
A smile spread across Cait’s face. She could smell Vi and feel the faint softness of her skin brushing against her own.
“You think so?”
“It’s not about what I think. It's what will happen,” Vi replied, her tone openly defiant.
Caitlyn stepped away, turning her back to Violet, who tilted her head, trying to read her next move.
She thought she’d leave. Or laugh.
“I know how I make you feel.”
But she didn’t expect that.
Caitlyn shoved her against the wall, planting her hands on both sides so she couldn’t escape. Vi hadn’t noticed before, but Cait was a little taller than her, just enough to force Vi to look up to meet her eyes.
“What are you talking about?” Vi snapped, clenching her jaw until it ached.
This time, it was Caitlyn who whispered in her ear, just after brushing her hair aside in a way that sent a shiver racing over Vi’s skin.
“Find me and you’ll know,” she said, tying Vi’s throat into knots. “Room 714. The hotel next door.”
And with that, she let her go, leaving the same way she’d come from.
Vi’s stomach dropped. Her most rational thoughts shattered in a matter of seconds. She somehow felt like she had to go there, as if something crucial awaited her.
An hour later, Violet walked all the way to the hotel. No clues in mind, she stood in front of room 714. Her feet were rooted to the floor, her gaze fixed on the door.
Every heartbeat felt like a countdown to disaster.
A smile crossed her thoughts—the same one that greeted her when the door opened.
“Are you coming in, Violet?”