Sister Cities

Part 14: Vi

"I apologize," she says after a long time looking terrified. "I didn't agree with your mission tonight, and neither did anyone here. You'll remain with us for the foreseeable future, and I assure you, your quality of life will be no less than the standard for Undercity citizens."

Sixteen stays silent, flabbergasted. Ekko waves his hand. A smaller circle of Firelights shoves the enforcers into the room we prepared for them, with pillows on the floor and chains on the walls. With the door closed, the Firelights arrange themselves outside to stand watch, and that's the end of it.

People laugh and hug and head either to the medic's station— there are a few nosebleeds and one dislocated elbow, but nothing worse— or back to their rooms. Caitlyn, Ekko, and me wait on the balcony until everyone but the guards have gone, and then we all turn to each other and keep waiting.

Ekko takes his mask off. "Welcome to the Firelights," he tells Caitlyn.

She stammers and looks down at her hands, like she expects to find blood on them. "Thank you," she says, and a second later: "I can never go back."

"No," he says. "But it's not too bad here."

She nods and looks at her hands again.

"Go to bed, little man," I say.

Ekko frowns at my willingness to give him orders. "Drop her off in the treehouse at the bottom," he says. "And take her to choose clothes if she wants to."

I salute and we watch him disappear. "Do you want to choose clothes?" I ask.

"Not tonight, thank you. In the morning."

I bring her by my room first to check on Powder. She's asleep, and Heimerdinger says she was the whole time. I rearrange her cuffed hands while Caitlyn hovers behind me.

When I'm satisfied, I smooth Powder's braid and lead Caitlyn to her treehouse. Like mine, it has lanterns, two cots, and real walls— Ekko probably picked it assuming she'd die of culture shock from the shelters with cracks. She stands just inside the doorway, gazing at the lanterns. I put them on, thinking it might help her relax, but all she does then is turn her gaze on me.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Yes," she says. "Yes, I'm just fine."

"Do you need to eat? Or drink something?"

"No, thank you."

She's still in the doorway, so I can't get out without brushing past her. The idea makes my stomach flutter.

"'Night, then, cupcake," I say, and I go for the exit fast enough to shut out most of my thoughts. My hand snags on something warm, and the next thing I know, I'm pinned against the wall by my wrists.

At first I think she's gonna try to hurt me. That makes me laugh, but when I do, all I get is confusion, not any sort of anger. I go quiet, even more confused. Her hands leave my wrists and land on the wall on either side of me.

You're hot, cupcake.

I have to tilt my head up to meet her eyes. She has to tilt her head down. But she doesn't meet my eyes— she closes hers and kisses me.

I feel my fingers lift to her face and push her hair back, and I feel her fingers close around my wrists again, and just like that, there's no more war, because there's no world beyond this room— but then:

What about us?

Oil and water. Wasn't meant to be.

I pull back. Caitlyn loosens her grip, but doesn't let go.