Sister Cities

Part 15: Caitlyn

And I can tell you that the world looks bleak

From where I'm sitting at the bottom of the city

But no matter where you sit

The skyline looks the same

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I wake up to Vi mumbling something. I start to ask her to repeat it, then open my eyes and realize she's facing away from me.

When we decided we needed to get some sleep, she pushed the second cot up next to the first one, since it would have been difficult to avoid someone falling on the floor otherwise. I became extremely shy suddenly and insisted on getting semi-dressed again, so she, having become extremely cocky suddenly, teased me and did the same. I can still see some of the tattoos on her back in the moonlight coming through the window. It's disconcerting to have the outside so close to me while I sleep; I'm accustomed to drawn curtains and heavy ceilings and walls and a regulated indoor climate, as well as to mattresses more than two inches thick and proper nightclothes. To think, I used to believe everyone else was too.

Vi mumbles again, and this time I pick out the words "Powder" and "seven." Her hair is disorganized, sticking in all directions where it's pressed against her pillow. I follow the contours of her tattoos with my eyes until I'm drowsy. Just before I drop back off, she speaks for a third time, something about "Yeah, I said that," and curls into herself with a whimper.

I sit up and see that her fists are clenched and drawn to her chest, vibrating from effort. She growls and twitches one of them. I wait until she whimpers again, then run my hand down her arm until she stirs.

As I was expecting, she growls harder and swings an easily-dodged fist at me, then wakes up for real and says, "Shit. Sorry, cupcake."

"It's okay. Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Okay."

"Yeah." She settles on her other side, facing me. "Do I look not-okay?"

"You sounded not-okay. You were talking in your sleep."

Her eyebrows furrow. "Huh."

"Do you do that frequently?" I ask.

"I don't know. Someone told me at Stillwater that I did once, so I tried to sleep more lightly from then on, and now I've been with Powder, and she's too drugged up to hear anything."

I try not to imagine her curling up like that on the floor of a prison cell and nobody coming to comfort her, but I don't succeed.

"Don't you remember your dreams?" I say.

"Not really."

"You mentioned her," I say. "Powder. Maybe you'd sleep better if you went back to your room."

Vi looks up. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not. I'll walk you."

We finish getting dressed— the tear she put in the collar of my uniform is truly abominable; I try my best to adjust it, but my entire shoulder is exposed and there's nothing to be done— and creep down to her treehouse. Outside the door, I can hear the soft rattle of Jinx's handcuffs. Inside, we find her squirming and whimpering "seven" in the same tone Vi used.

Vi darts over, lending no more thought to the volume of her footsteps, and sits on the edge of the cot, lifting Jinx partway into her arms. "Hey," she whispers. "It's okay. It's okay. I've got you."

Jinx looks to still be affected by the tranquilizer, because she doesn't wake up, just stops wriggling and turns her face in toward Vi's shoulder. A purple tear is smeared on her cheek.

I intend to leave and give them their privacy, but Vi looks at me when I move and nods to the small space at her side. Without thinking, I tiptoe over, sitting close out of both necessity and desire.

"It's almost as if part of you knew she was upset," I say.

"Maybe," Vi says. "I don't really believe in intuition. I'm just lucky you woke me up."

The window in here is open, and a loose piece of Jinx's hair drifts in the breeze and brushes my leg. Her braid runs over Vi's arm and touches the floor, and the ribbon I gave her is skimmed with moonlight, tied in a lopsided bow.

"I said some stuff to you yesterday that was out of line," says Vi, wiping the tear off Jinx's face with her thumb.

"I think you've been very kind to her," I say.

"Not Powder. You."

"Me?"

"Yeah. You're not disgustingly naïve— I mean, you're naïve, but you're trying not to be. And I know you're not concerned about your status, and that you wouldn't have been happy if Powder went to Stillwater and got killed. I'm sorry."

"Thank you." I'm vaguely surprised. "I did need to hear some of those other things, though."

"I know. You were born to the oppressor class and you've caused harm on their behalf. I'm not sorry for saying that. But as a person, you're pretty all right, and it's not hard to tell."

I'm used to much neater, brighter compliments. Caitlyn Kiramman, you are a sharpshooting protégé. Caitlyn Kiramman, you are the classiest person in this room. Caitlyn Kiramman, the promise I see in you is ineffable. Actually, you're pretty all right is refreshing. The only thing that has compared was: It's been real, cupcake.

It really has been real. Not just in a colloquial sense— it's as though the life I lived in Piltover took place within a locked cupboard, and almost everyone I associated with who was supposed to be important was just a wooden toy. Now I've opened the doors. Everything is dirtier and scarier and more painful, but it's real.

"Do you regret it yet?" asks Vi. "Sticking it to the enforcers?"

"No," I say.

"What are you gonna miss?"

"My mum and dad and Jayce. And blind ignorance. But I could never regret it."

Her smile flashes in the moonlight. She smiles so much more since we came here, despite everything.

Jinx sneezes. Vi leans back, now grimacing. "Agh, Powder, come on."

I laugh too loud and clap my hand over my mouth. Jinx settles again, her hands folding together, and I just can't believe this is the same calculating individual I saw leaving the site of her own explosion with a smirk on her face.

"She's just a little girl," I say. "Isn't she?"

Vi looks almost as surprised as I feel. "In some ways," she says eventually. "In some ways, I think she's still the same kid I left by the docks. She buried her as she was, like a pearl, and tried to cover her with what she became."

"I see cracks," I say.

"She does too. And every time she does, she buries herself deeper."

I yawn suddenly. I'm not bored in the slightest, but defection is exhausting.

"You should go back to bed," Vi says.

"Are you staying here?"

"Yeah. I can drop you off, though, if you're gonna be scared by yourself."

"I'm perfectly capable of locating my room alone, thank you." As I get to my feet, I throw caution to the wind and brush my fingers down Jinx's braid. Vi catches my hand.

"I'm happy you're here," she says.

"As am I," I say. I don't want her to let me go, but she does, and I slip outside.

For just a second, I linger with the door ajar and watch her kiss Jinx's forehead.

I'm happy I'm here. But I wish, for their sake, that there was another world, and that they had never met me.

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Intro lyrics from "It's Never Sunny in South Philadelphia" by The Wonder Years.

I stole an exchange in this from my sister @/sarahdoesclownart on Instagram!! check out her gross ugly shitty garbage pls!!! and tysm for reading