In the Darkest Corners (Vi x Reader)

Chapter 9: The Song of Return

"So, the next council meeting is tomorrow. Before then, you two will need to come up with a strategy to convince them about — what was his name? — Silco. I expect you'll need my help seeing as my mother is a council member."

Olive nodded and swallowed her large mouthful of food before speaking. "You're right. We won't get anywhere without a plan, or your help. But first...there's somewhere I need to go. Just for some closure,"  Olive said, looking at Caitlyn like she was begging that she wouldn't make her explain any further. Not right now. Thankfully, the latter nodded with silent understanding.

"Whatever you need."

As soon as they had stepped beyond the Kiramman's gate, Vi slowed to a stop and leant against a post. "So, are you going to tell me where we're going, or is it a surprise?" She smirked, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Olive looked down nervously. "Unfortunately, it's nothing pleasant." She sighed and looked up, right into Vi's eyes. "We're going home. To my home." Vi instantly dropped her persona. Her demeanor softened.

"Oh." Her face looked heartbroken and conflicted, like she wasn't sure what to do. "If you want to go alone, I can-"

"No. I want you to come with me. Please." Olive's eyes were pleading — she couldn't do it alone. Vi nodded. Olive took a breath and continued. "Luckily, we don't have far to go. I lived right next door."

As they walked up to the gate that preceded Olive's once-home, it became clear that the neighborhood had been dedicated enough to their own looks to keep the house looking normal from the outside. But from what Cait had told her, nobody had actually bought the house or moved it. Not that anyone would want to, after what happened. Vi grabbed Olive's hand in silent understanding and squeezed it. Olive looked at her, and Vi gave a small smile of encouragement. With a deep breath, Olive raised her free hand and pushed open the familiar gate. Her home was smaller and less grand than the Kiramman's, but it still held the stature and upper-class expectations of Piltover. The front door opened easily in Olive's hand, and when she saw what had become of her home for the first time, she had to fight the urge to simply crumple to the ground and sob. All that came out was a harrowed gasp.

"Ol, if it's too much, we can always leave," Vi soothed, but Olive shook her head.

"No. I need to know. I need to see," she said, swallowing back the emotion that threatened to overcome her. She took her time taking everything in, from the wrecked overturned furniture to the decorations and memorabilia smashed on the floor. Traveling up the stairs, she could still see clearly the marks left by enforcers' boots as they had trampled through her home. She peered down the hall, and noticed something strange. The self portraits that her parents had forced her to sit for each year of her life lay untouched. They must have been deemed unimportant from their high, secured place on the wall. Vi seemed entranced as she gazed at them.

"These are...all you. Your entire life, right here," she murmured, transfixed. The more she looked at them, the more Vi noticed one specific detail. Each year, Olive's hair grew longer, sometimes unrestrained, sometimes confined in a braid or long ponytail. In what was clearly the most recent portrait, her hair was a loose, thick wave that almost floated around her being. Vi stared at this for a few moments, then turned and gazed at Olive's now cropped hair. It barely reached past her chin, and a lot of the time it was mostly tied up or pulled back. Vi contemplated this, wondering why she had left this behind with her own life. Olive noticed this and cleared her throat.

"I do miss it, sometimes. The hair. Living the kind of life where I can maintain something like that. But after I left, I...it was too much. Instead of being something I could appreciate, it was always in the way, always dirty or hard to manage. It was the last thing I had to leave behind." Olive had to force herself to turn away from her portrait. From the smiling girl that sat straight and clean. "It's just hair, anyways," she said, turning away and heading towards her bedroom. Her final destination. Vi wanted to stop her, to say something, but she wasn't sure what to say. What to do. Silently, she followed Olive.

Surprisingly, Olive's room was just as she left it. Destroyed, of course, but at least it was her own doing. Her clothes haphazardly pulled out of her wardrobe and thrown wherever if she couldn't bring it. Other belongings searched through and abandoned before she could have second thoughts. Her bed, dusty and messed about from her urgent bolting from her sleep. But there was one thing actually untouched. Her piano. Olive beelined for the grand instrument, sliding onto the bench like she always had. Her fingers ghosted over the keys, pressing random ones and watching the fingerprints she left in the dust. She could feel Vi standing adjacent to her, watching, but her focus stayed on the piano. Even her favorite piece was still open on the music stand.

"Through everything, this was something my mother and I could always have. Together," she said, talking to Vi without turning. "One of us would play, and the other would sing. Sometimes we would do both." A smile danced across her face as memories played in her mind. With a stretch of her fingers, Olive allowed muscle memory to kick in — and she began to play. The piano was slightly out of tune from being neglected for an entire year, but she didn't care. She let herself be lost in the music, forgetting her own trials and misery. The mistakes she had made and the mystery she had yet to solve. As the song came to an end, her finger lingered on the last key, letting it fade out as long as it could. Olive stood slowly and turned back towards Vi, but as soon as her hands left the keys she dissolved into wracking sobs, crumpling to the ground like a piece of paper. Her hand reached out to the piano to hold herself instinctively, but all that resulted was a slamming of a discordant mash of keys. Vi moved quickly and caught her as she fell before she was able to hit the cold ground. Olive sank into her arms as her sobs continued, unrelenting. She didn't feel the way Vi's jaw clenched, or how she resisted her hands tightening to enraged fists behind Olive's back.

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After what felt like forever, I finally got this chapter done! I am insanely busy right now so updates might be less set in stone from here on out, sorry! I hope everyone likes this chapter - it's a little more emotional but I really enjoy it. Don't forget to vote and comment! :)