Chapter Text
Summer 2010
After decades of violence, Piltover grants Zaun sovereignty. A ‘friendly competition’ is decided to bridge the gap between both nations. After 5 years of independence, the fledgling Nation of Zaun struggles to cement its national identity. They have to make a good impression.
Jinx
Cold air gushes through the bus. Air-conditioning, one of the many luxuries Zaun can’t afford. Piltover sent them a bus as a gesture of goodwill, but all it’s doing is freezing her to death. Seriously, her fingers are going numb. She blows into her palms. Hot air warms them for a moment. She looks out the large windows, hands burrowed in her pockets,
Buildings disappears into the clouds, everything’s electric, and people are dressed in fancy clothes going to fancy places. Must be nice not having to worry about your next meal. Her teammates peer outside like kids in a candy shop. Pretty fucking pathetic. Sevika shares her sentiment, telling the others to sit down. For once Jinx doesn’t completely hate her coach’s short fuse.
“You nervous?” Vi asks beside her.
“Nope.”
Her sister laughs. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
“Why would I be scared of coddled Pilties?”
“Don’t underestimate them if you don’t wanna lose. I keep hearing about their striker, this Caitlyn Kiramman—”
“That’s a dumb name.”
“It is, but what I mean is—”
Jinx yawns. “Relax, sis. We got this in the bag.”
“You’re our ace, you know that right?”
“I definitely do.” A smug smile curls her lip.
“Look. I don’t wanna be mean, but this girl can run circles around you.”
Jinx quirks up a brow. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I’ve been reading the news, watching the interviews.” Vi scoots closer and oh goodness, she reeks of Axe body spray. “Kiramman is a councilor’s daughter, she’s got a lot to prove. There’s no way she’s not bringing her A-game.”
“I’d be offended is she doesn’t.”
Vi sighs, a distinctly frustrated sigh Jinx hears often. “Just be careful, okay? We’re in enemy territory, and we don’t know what tricks they have up their sleeve.”
“I’ll be fine,” she replies dismissively.
Mercifully Vi stops talking after that.
***
Lights. Camera. Action!
Reporters from all over mob their team to snag an interview with her. Not that she blames them. Come on, she’s good looking and an amazing player. What’s not to love? Sevika makes sure none of them get too close, don’t ask the wrong questions, et cetera. Hell, a couple journalists break into a fight trying to squeeze past the line! It’s safe to say that everything’s going great. Can’t believe Vander and Silco thought this can ever go south.
“Jinx!” a reporter calls out, “Who do you think is going to win?”
“Us. Duh.”
“Do you think this game will help ease tensions between Zaun and Piltover.”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.”
“How do you plan to outplay Caitlyn Kiramman?”
That girl again. What’s everyone’s obsession with her? Jinx is twice—No, thrice the player Kiramman is. Granted she’s never met her, never bothered to watch her games either, but she knows she’s better than a sniffling nepo-baby.
“Caitlyn Kiramman?” Stupid name for a stupid girl. “I’ll beat her.”
“How will you do that?”
Jinx takes the chance to be snarky. “By running past her and shooting goals.”
“You seem awfully confident.”
“Because I can back it up.”
“Can you?”
What a stupid fucking question. Before she can rearrange the reporter’s stupid face, Sevika pushes him and the rest away. “Alright, that’s enough. Give us some space.” The crowd backs off without fuss. Smart. Their coach orders them to practice. It’s 2 days before the competition and they have the field to themselves. Unfortunately, a stern hand keeps her in place. “What were you thinking?” Sevika asks pointedly.
“I would’ve knocked him out if it weren’t for you.”
“You’re being cocky. This is our first formal competition with Piltover, and you can’t be acting the way you are.”
Jinx groans. “Didn’t you tell me to believe in myself?”
“You’re putting a target on your back.”
“Whatever.” She pushes away Sevika’s hand. “Can I practice now?”
Sevika gives her a look before letting her go. Jinx shrugs it off. Whatever, she’ll let the game speak for itself. As soon as she steps into the pitch someone jumps her. Ever tasted grass before? It’s strikingly similar to salad. Too bad the lawn hasn’t been mowed yet, so Jinx got a mouthful of bugs and dirt she spat out.
“I told you not to do that!” Claggor reprimands his brother.
Mylo helps Jinx to her feet, ruffling her hair. “Did you hear her? We’re gonna win, duh.”
“Hey, knock it off!” Vi says from across the pitch.
“Aright, alright.” Mylo gives Jinx one last shove before letting her off.
Jeez, what’s with everyone today?
They do some stretching. Boring! After that are exercises: running, coordination, balance. Double boring! 20 minutes go by before she gets her hands, or feet rather, on a ball. Aside from the bus that almost turned her into a popsicle, Piltover gave them some new shoes. Gliding the ball from one foot to another, it makes a world of difference. For one thing her soles aren’t bleeding, and running feels way smoother.
She scoops the ball up and kicks it around. Nothing fancy, just moving it from foot to foot, ankle to ankle, knee to knee. Finally, she flings it in the air and headbutts it into a goal. She smiles. Yep, this is going to be easy.
“Feeling good?” Ekko asks.
“Always.”
He pats her back. “Good, we’ll be needing it.”
“You’re the first person who thinks my confidence is a good thing.”
“What? You got another talk from Sevika?”
“Her and Vi. They can’t get off my case.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m good, I know I am. I just gotta prove it.”
“Hey, you don’t gotta prove anything. I believe in you.”
She gives him a genuine smile. “Thanks.” Looking into the distance she spots some unfamiliar blobs. “Who the hell are they?”
Can’t be civilians, the area’s closed off. Definitely not fans, unless Zaunites manage to get a travel passport into Piltover. Easier to make a bomb than getting one, legally anyway. No, those blobs are other players. First of all, what the fuck? They were promised the pitch till 3 pm. Second of all, which one is Caitlyn Kiramman?
Can’t be the old lady with greying hairs, that’s definitely a goalie. Not the girl with beautiful braids either, she doesn’t seem self-centered enough to be a striker. Scanning the crowd, she spots a woman significantly taller than the rest. Athletic build, calm demeanor, and a little cockiness in her step. Oh yeah, that’s Kiramman. Putting a face to the name significantly tones down her intimidation factor, not that Jinx was ever scared. There’s no chance Ms. Goody Two Shoes will outplay her.
Neither team interacts with the other. Tomorrow is supposed to be a ‘friendly’ match and all, but they’re not stupid. Whatever, that’s not her problem. All she has to do is play well, make her dads proud, and become a star. Simple. With this in mind, Jinx should be practicing hard; refine her combos with Vi and Ekko, work on her passes, make sure she doesn’t get a concussion whenever she headbutts the ball. And she did all those things, just in-between stealing glances at Kiramman.
She’s got dark blue hair strangled in a high ponytail and sapphire eyes, frilly bangs framing her pointy face. If Jinx pokes her, will she bleed? Probably. Striker on striker violence is pretty common. But nah, Kiramman is too refined for that. She’s living it up in her family’s manor somewhere Jinx will never be able to afford. If they win this game, she’ll get a better chance of moving out of Zaun. All the more reason to destroy Kiramman.
***
A day before the competition Jinx skips team breakfast. Team bonding’s never been her thing. It’s not that she hates them—okay, maybe a little, but not in a mean way—she just likes being alone. Hoodie and sweatpants must be considered under-dressed around here, because everyone’s giving her weird looks. Not that she cares. Nope, she walks right past those assholes and finds a noodle stall. Cheap food, decent service, and damn good noodles. Like seriously, almost as good as the ones in Zaun. And here she thought Pilties were allergic to flavor.
“I’ll have the usual please,” a posh voice calls out from beside her.
There are a couple of chairs open, but the stranger sits across from her. Annoying much. If she’s looking for an easy robbery, she’s come to the wrong girl. Looking up from her bowl mid-slurp, she recognizes Kiramman instantly. It’s hard not to when those scary blues are staring like she owes her money. Jinx jumps in her seat, just a little, and nearly chokes on her food.
“Are you alright?” Kiramman asks, a little too concerned for her liking.
“I’m fine. Why are you here?”
“Excuse me?”
“You here to taunt me before our game?”
Kiramman’s confusion lasts a few seconds before she smiles. “You must be Jinx, nice meeting you.”
She extends a hand.
Jinx ignores it.
“Um, alright.” Silence. Too bad it doesn’t stay that way. “I’m looking forward to playing against you.”
“You won’t be so nice when we beat you.”
Kiramman snickers. “No. That’s not happening.”
Jinx raises a brow. The nepo-baby does have teeth. “I’ve been playing since I was old enough to walk. You’ve got no chance.”
“I’m pretty good myself. Very good, in fact.”
“So, you playing in the national team has nothing to do with your mom?”
Kiramman sours. “I earned the right to be here.”
“I want this way more than you do.”
“What makes you think that?”
Jinx stabs her chopsticks into the noodles. This alarms Kiramman, which makes her smile. “You’re not the one scraping to get by.” She stands up, throws a tip on the table, and leaves.
***
Gameday.
Just like she expected, the Pilties got nothing on them. They play by the book, easy to counter. Mylo gives them the slip a couple of times, Vi passes to Ekko, and Jinx hits them with their one-two combo. Piltover’s goalie was a tough nut to crack. She’s big and fast, but her old joints can’t keep up with Jinx’s speed.
As a striker there’s not much Kiramman can do. A few times she runs up to Jinx, desperately trying to wrestle the ball from her. ‘I’m pretty good,’ Jinx remembers her say yesterday, but she keeps falling for Jinx’s tricks. The ball slides behind her, then it’s lunging ahead and oops! Vi has it, and her sister shoots into Piltover’s goal.
The frustration on Kiramman’s face is palpable.
Jinx likes seeing it. That priggish nepo-baby really thought she had a chance? Yeah right.
After the game they shake hands. Sportsmanship or whatever. If it were up to her, she’ll rub the medal in everyone’s faces, especially Kiramman’s. Speaking of which, once Jinx reaches her—just to rub it in, because she’s classy like that—she says, “See you at the draft.”