Work Text:
The Enforcers’ officer handed the duffel bag back to Ekko: “You can go for this time. But know that if we catch you graffitiing again, nobody will save you a night in a cell.”
The boy unzipped his bag and checked the contents. Everything was there: brushes, turpentine, his sketchbook. Only the cans of paint were gone, probably thrown away by the officers, so that he would not repeat the exploit during which they had caught him.
He looked at his hands: they were still smeared with blue paint and dusty, as remnants of the scaly plaster from the wall he was painting had stuck to his fingers.
“What will happen to the mural?”
“We will cover it as soon as possible, young man. I'm sorry, but it's a matter of public decorum.”
Ekko let go a disappointed sigh. He should have been quicker, arriving, sketching and leaving as he had always done. But this time he had not been able to restrain himself from details and finishing touches. He had been sketching the composition and individual details ever since he had gotten the idea, had been working on it for days. That work had become so important to him. Making it in downtown Piltover was crazy, but that was the only place it deserved to be. Ekko wanted it to be his masterpiece. But wasting time detailing and correcting, dividing the work over several days and returning to the mural site often had attracted the attention of the Enforcers, who caught him in the act.
At the police station, it had been enough to mention Caitlyn and Vi's names to receive favourable treatment. Then when an under-officer, enlisted from Zaun's ranks, judging by her tattoos, had recognized him, the interrogating officer had immediately advocated for his immediate release.
Ekko closed the duffle bag again, “Thank you for your patience. Have a good evening,” he greeted in a tone that was a little sarcastic and a little genuinely grateful.
He walked through the corridors of the barracks, illuminated with cold light, and stopped on the threshold of the main door. On the step that separated him from the street, he inhaled deeply the cold night air. A gust of frost crept under his massive windbreaker jacket, making him shiver. The first snowflakes were falling from the sky.
He started down the road from the barracks to the Undercity, to the Lanes where he had grown up but felt less and less like home. He would go back to hiding in some alley, ignoring the world evolving around him.
After the battle against Noxus, part of the peace treaty between Piltover and Zaun had been the total disbanding of his Firelights, considered a subversive and dangerous group by the newly formed central government, bringing the two cities together for the first time. The councilwoman representing Zaun had not objected either. But then again, he would not have expected anything different from Sevika.
Without his organization, without the displaced people he had taken in, all of them intent on rebuilding their lives, finally at peace with their oppressor, Ekko had lost all purpose. All his existence he had fought to give Zaunites better living conditions, and now that his dream had become a reality, he found himself with nothing in his hands. The prominent place he had held in the Undercity never translated into a role in the new society, and Ekko had no say in that. No one wanted a pretentious rebel around.
Still, they had been Piltover's heroes, he and Jinx.
Jinx...
He banished the thought from his mind; it was better for the emptiness inside him to remain faceless and nameless. Jinx was always lurking at the edge of his brain. Another dream realized. His greatest hope, for all the years they had been apart, was to rescue her from Silco's clutches and bring her back to the light, with him. He had never abandoned this hope, even when she became a sworn enemy of the Firelights.
Well, he had succeeded. Jinx still had good in her. Jinx saved everyone. The result of that: Jinx was gone. Ekko had accomplished the goal he believed in so much, and he again found himself holding nothing in his arms.
He missed her. He missed Jinx terribly. He missed the spark he had seen igniting in her dull eyes, before the battle. He even missed her as an enemy. But most of all, he missed her as his playmate. To die for.
Ekko's feet diverted from the path they were taking. They took a little-trodden way, where the snow that was growing on the road was still pristine, where the lights of the city gradually faded away.
By the time he reached the old Hexgate portals, he could no longer feel his fingers from the cold. He blew on his own hands, to warm them, and patted his duffel bag, as if to make sure it was still firm on his hip. He went into the narrow alleys, carved out between the tall gate towers, until he reached the south building. There, in a secluded area, frequented only by maintenance workers and kids playing war games, he stopped at the foot of a blue glow.
Moonlight, filtering through the gloomy snow sky, bounced off long blue braids drawn on the wall. Between the braids, a face, outlined by a few, confident features, looked up at him, purple pupils glowing.
“Wow, is that the me of this universe?”
Ekko leapt from the ground and nearly screamed. A voice had caught him from behind, a very familiar voice.
At first, he thought he was dreaming. He must have spent so much time alone that he was hallucinating. But when the blue-haired girl threw her arms around his neck, and he suddenly felt all her warmth and scent, he realized that none of his dreams could be as beautiful and alive as she was.
“Powder! What...how...? Is it really you?”
“It's me. It's okay.”
Ekko wanted to say something, anything, but the words died in his throat. Instead, only choked sobs and hot tears came out, wetting Powder's shoulder. He slipped to his knees and his pants became soaked with snow, which was falling thicker and thicker.
Powder stroked his face and hugged him again. They remained curled up on the ground for a while, while Ekko continued to cry and Powder smiled softly, caressing his back.
“Are you really that Powder?” asked Ekko finally. In response, the girl showed him a pendant, a blue rose with their profiles outlined amidst the petals.
“I am her, and I remember everything.”
“How did you get here?”
“I have walked a long way.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to see you again.”
“Why me of all people? There is an Ekko in your universe.”
“But in this, if I have deduced correctly, there is no Powder,” she replied, looking at the mural.
The sobs stopped Ekko's stream of questions again.
“You have something that no one else has. I have met many Ekko's, looking for you. But no one is like that boy with the windbreaker and an hourglass drawn on his face.”
“Is it really out of love that you are here?”
“You have created a paradox for me. I have crossed universes to seek the one who taught me how to cross them.”
“How many did you go through before you got here?”
“I lost count. I only remember when I started traveling.”
“Meaning?”
“When we danced together.”
Ekko stood up and wiped his eyes. Powder gave him her hand, while the snowflakes seemed to not even touch her.
“But how did you get all the way here by yourself?”
“Come, let's go somewhere warm. I'll tell you all about it.”