Parallel Lines

They were different now, in ways that went far beyond appearances. Time had shaped them, and pain had carved deep lines into their souls.

Jinx's hair was the first thing anyone would notice. Thick, vivid blue braids that trailed all the way to the floor, as unruly and wild as the girl herself. It was the same shade it had always been, though now tangled with streaks of soot and grime from the undercity.

Hair holds memories after all.

Her face, once-rounded cheeks had hollowed out, leaving her with a gaunt, ghostly visage. Her sunken eyes were rimmed with dark circles, speaking of sleepless nights and endless nightmares.

Through it all, Y/N still called her Bluejay. Jinx didn't mind, she even preferred it. The nickname carried warmth, a connection to someone who saw her as more than just Jinx.

Y/N had changed too. Her face bore the same gauntness like Jinx, though hers came less from starvation and more from exhaustion. The color of her eyes had deepened, shifting into an endless voice.

The time she spent above, in the shimmering heights of Piltover, had left its mark. Her skin was tanner now, kissed by sunlight that rarely touched the depths of Zaun.

When Y/N had discovered the stolen book and the three mysterious gemstones among her scattered belongings, she hadn't hesitated. The ancient runes in the book had shown power to protect, power to survive.

And what was a desperate girl to do when the stakes were life and death? Y/N's answer was simple: carve the runes into her skin.

The memory was vivid. The sharp sting of the blade against her palms, the warm, sticky sensation of her own blood dripping onto the pages of the book.

With Silco's resources, Y/N had forged something entirely her own. The three gemstones were set into sleek metallic bands, forming a trio of rings that hummed with latent power. Each ring was a masterpiece, their surfaces adorned with intricate runes that pulsed faintly with blue light.

Y/N had crafted them to be versatile, the rings linked by delicate chains that could be configured in countless ways on her fingers and even around her wrist.

She couldn't help but feel pride in what she'd created, despite the scars it had left on her hands. The runes had worked. The blood, the pain— it had all been worth it.

Y/N remembered the first time she tested them, the rush of energy coursing through her veins as the gemstones flared to life.

Sure, everytime she used it there was a chance she would explode, but everytime she didn't, great exhaustion fell upon her. Yet for the first time, she felt like she had the means to protect her family.

Even if it cost her everything, it was a price she was willing to pay.

_____________________________________________________

Progress Day. Y/N could laugh on and on about how untrue that label felt. But for now, she'd let herself relax. The thought of the day's festivities didn't piss her off at all!

It didn't piss her off that Jason, or whatever his name was, was plastered all over Piltover, smiling like some golden boy of innovation. And it didn't sting as much as it used to that Viktor, who deserved so much more, was relegated to the shadows.

She and Viktor had exchanged a few letters, polite but distant. The connection wasn't what it used to be, and Y/N had long accepted that it never would be again. She told herself she didn't care, that it didn't burn in her chest anymore.

It was stupid to dwell on feelings, she reminded herself. Emotions only got in the way, tripping up ambition. Love was a distraction. But holding onto that resolve became harder when Jinx started talking to herself again.