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In theory, what was an itch? A temporary annoyance or distraction, something that could be remedied with a quick scratch. It was an urge that could easily be fixed.

But what if it couldn’t be, if the itch, like so much else, was beyond Caitlyn’s reach. Trapped behind the eye patch it lingered and waited for the worst moments to pounce.

Caitlyn opened her remaining eye slowly, blurrily looking up at the dark ceiling. Opening only one eye was still a strange feeling no matter how many times she did it. It also did nothing to relieve the burning itch beneath the surface of the other side, the desperate screaming of her skin as it slowly healed.

The doctor had told her, in no uncertain terms, that any dirt or contact with the injury could lead to an infection and even death. No matter how badly it seared at its peak—which it bloody did now—that feeling would pass. The only thing Caitlyn could do was wait.

Of course it picked the middle of the night to act up. Caitlyn turned her head to the side, towards the other occupant of her bed. Vi’s shoulders were barely visible against the dim streetlamp light from the window and even the vibrancy of her tousled hair was faded in the darkness. With each breath she took her form moved ever so slightly, rising and falling in the same repetitive motion. Caitlyn still marveled that they were both alive.

She would never forget Vi finding her in the medical tent after the battle, collapsing in her arms and sobbing for Jinx. When Vi calmed down enough to explain what happened, how Jinx had sacrificed herself to save her one last time, the weight of that action sent a chill down Caitlyn’s spine. The last time she’d talked to Jinx was at the jail cell, where Jinx asked Caitlyn to kill her. Now she was dead. News that would’ve once been a sign of victory was now the opposite. Caitlyn pulled Vi even closer, the tears from her right eye dripping onto Vi’s shoulder.

Later as she turned over a small monkey grenade head in her hand and looked through the Hextower blueprints, she’d had to reassess those feelings. The idea that Jinx could have escaped through the air ducts, a system she knew nearly as well as Caitlyn did, was a distinct possibility.

As she wondered where the ever-elusive Jinx could have gone, the itching behind her eyepatch finally began to subside. It eased from a raging torrent to a slightly more manageable thrum, still present but much more tolerable.

Caitlyn shifted her body and closed her eye once more, willing sleep to return to her. She breathed deeply, slowly, trying to push those thoughts from her mind.

They were replaced instead by other events of that day. The fighting at the gates stuck with her too, and not just because she lost her eye in the conflict. Teaming up with Mel to fight Ambessa, using her magic to finally overpower the woman who had always been and indomitable obstacle in her path. Caitlyn took all of her regrets over her past actions into the battle, wielded them with her spear. The sacrifice to take Ambessa down had been worth it.

As for others at the gate, the many who had died in the fight, Caitlyn preferred not to think about them. Despite that desire they continued to haunt her.

Opening her eye with a sigh and a grimace, she gave up on the battle with sleep. She slipped silently from the bed with practiced ease, feet moving gingerly against the cold floor. Vi didn’t so much as stir at the disturbance.

Caitlyn left her there to sleep, taking measured steps out of the bedroom and down the main stairs. She had walked this path thousands of times before, but seeing it with only one eye like this, her perspective skewed, made them feel foreign to her. That feeling stayed with her until she reached the library, where she lit a candle on the low table. Its glow illuminated the mountain of papers waiting for her.

If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well work.

The first pile of papers belonged to enforcer applicants, citizens who wanted to sign up after the battle. Caitlyn had started a new recruitment drive almost immediately, trying to fill the gaps left by the battle. Of course, none of those spaces could be completely filled. Each person left their own unique shaped hole behind.

But the patrol shifts still needed to be run, and for that applicants needed to be vetted. There was nobody left to do it besides Caitlyn.

She held the papers up one by one near the candle, reading through each person’s qualifications and combat experience. Most were from the topside, with only a few from the undercity. Even though that was expected, it was still disappointing to see. Things were changing slowly.

Of all the applications, there was also notably no application from Vi. Caitlyn had wondered if she would rejoin the enforcers but hadn’t pressured her or even asked her about it. It seemed she had her answer.

One by one Caitlyn sorted them into piles to review again the next day. Some would make fine enforcers while others, well, needed a bit more experience before signing up. Integrity was part of this process too, but it couldn’t be determined just from a piece of paper. No, the next phase would be in-person interviews. When would she have time to schedule those? Not this week unless she cancelled something else. The very thought made Caitlyn’s wounded eye twinge.

Once they were sorted, she set the applications aside. Beneath them the next task waited for her. Her fingers brushed over the edge of the top paper; for a moment she indulged the thought that maybe it would be better to work on something else.

That notion quickly passed, replaced by a steeling of her jaw. This was part of her job too, part of her responsibilities and irreparable failures.

The top page contained a list of names, those assigned to patrols before the attack. With a steady hand and a frown, Caitlyn started crossing names off the list. She crossed off Loris, who had helped nurse Vi back to health after trying to save Vander. Her pen continued to move, removing so many who had fallen, all of whom she had known.

When she reached Maddie’s name she paused. The tip of her pen tapped against the paper, once, then twice, before striking her name through as well.

There were so many questions she wanted to ask Maddie, words she had not been able to form in the last few moments of Maddie’s life. When did she betray her? Had she always been on Ambessa’s side? Caitlyn hadn’t exactly returned her feelings, but had those feelings even been real? It was pointless to wonder. To ask these questions of the dead would only result in cold silence.

Caitlyn continued her work.

At the end of the page she flipped to the next, to the actual schedule for patrol. Until they hired new enforcers, the hours would need to be severely cut in order to maintain the patrol routes.

It was during this process that Caitlyn heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching down the main staircase. They were accompanied by an adorable little yawn, one clearly stifled behind a hand.

Vi announced her entrance in her typical cheesy way. “It’s too early for breakfast, but I’m always hungry for cupcakes.” She sounded a little hoarse, as if she had just woken up.

“Very funny.” Caitlyn replied dryly, not even shifting her attention away from the paper. “I’m sorry for waking you.” She wrote a new time for one of the shifts, shortening it to try and make it fit with the new schedule.

“You didn’t.”

To her left, Caitlyn could hear the sound of the other chair being dragged along the ground. It would’ve been in her peripheral vision, if she had any remaining to speak of. Instead, she turned her head to watch as Vi moved the chair next to hers. The other woman collapsed heavily into the chair, likely still quite tired from not getting a full night of sleep. The light of the candle danced entrancingly across her face.

“What are you working on?” Vi asked, reminding Caitlyn that she was in fact supposed to be working and not staring.

She gestured towards the paper. “Just redoing some patrol shifts, we have to make do with a shortage for a while.”

“Ahh, right.” Vi rested her right hand on the arm of her chair as she leaned over to squint at the paper. She only got close enough to read it before pulling back, but her hand remained practically dangling over the edge. It was an invitation.

This wasn’t the first time Vi had invited Caitlyn like this, far from it in fact. In times of passion she often acted decisively, and she could flirt with the best of them, but in quiet moments like these things were different. At first Caitlyn thought it was hesitation, but she realized over time that wasn’t it. Rather, Vi patiently waited for her to be ready.

So Caitlyn took that moment, the one Vi so generously offered to her, to write another line on her paper before gently placing her left hand over Vi’s. A second later their fingers intertwined, fitting together exactly as they should be. Soon after Caitlyn could feel Vi’s head rest against her shoulder, nestling in place as she continued to work. For a few minutes, only the scratch of her pen broke the silence.

Vi being here like this, even late at night when she was crazy enough to get out of bed and work, was a change, a new normal that Caitlyn longed to continue.

“Oh, have you heard from the construction team?” Vi asked, as if she had just remembered something.

Caitlyn paused to think for a moment. “They’re still picking leadership for it, from what I last heard.” The council was putting together a crew to work on rebuilding from the battle, both in Piltover and the undercity.

“Then I still have a chance.” Vi’s hand shifted in Caitlyn’s. “I want to help out, to rebuild things rather than punch holes in them.” The words were practically whispered against Caitlyn’s collarbone, like a prayer for only her to hear.

Wanting to rebuild, Caitlyn understood that desire completely. This patrol schedule too, this was part of rebuilding. Was it really going to work with these changes? Shouldn’t she build it differently than before? The realization struck her that what she was doing now, it wasn’t going to work. She was falling into the same habits, the same patterns as before, but things had changed.

Vi was the one who showed her that. The schedule could wait just one more day for her to come up with a better plan. Caitlyn set the paper and pen down on the stack, turning her gaze to Vi.

“There’s no way they’d turn you away.”

Vi chuckled lowly in response. “We can only hope so.” She lifted her head to meet Caitlyn’s eye, with an unmistakable glimmer in her own. “I am one of the strongest people around you know.”

“Oh yes I am quite aware.” Caitlyn smiled softly, lifting one hand to slowly caress Vi’s cheek. She leaned in with the gesture, brushing their foreheads together. So many words lingered behind her lips, more thanks than she would ever be able to say, pleas to stay together forever, and three simple words of love that pressed desperately against her teeth.

Though those words clamored for release, it was too soon, too fresh. Just as Vi waited for her, Caitlyn waited patiently for Vi too.

In silence, Caitlyn closed the remaining distance between their lips. The kiss was short and sweet, intimate and yet just barely enough.

“Are you ready to go back to bed?” Caitlyn whispered as she pulled back.

“Are you?”

Caitlyn nodded and stood, pulling Vi with her to her feet. They blew out the candle and retreated together up the familiar steps, seen from this new and unfamiliar angle.

As Caitlyn settled back in bed with Vi, her injured eye still itched. Her brain still ran amok with thoughts of before and the battle and especially how to adapt to all of the changes ahead.

_____________________________________________________________

Aerith glanced down at the high ankles of her boots, which dangled back and forth beneath her. The gap below extended far past the reach of her limbs, all the way down to the dusty dirt paths that led through town. Gravity kept water moving through the pipes, from the water tower to the surrounding buildings and then back to the ground, with a force as unstoppable as souls returning to the planet. If Aerith were to gently kick one of her boots off it would succumb, perhaps beaning an unsuspecting black cloak over the head in the process.

The thought brought the hint of a chuckle to her lips, but no she wouldn’t do that. Instead, her eyes tracked a distinct spattering of spiky blonde hair emerging from the house across that distant path. Cloud staggered slightly when the sun hit his gaze, right foot faltering as he turned towards the inn.

When he stumbled again, this time bumping roughly into a pedestrian, Aerith’s hand tightened against the edge of the scaffold. His behavior had been worrying for a while and had been even more troubling lately. Especially in Gongaga, though Aerith hadn’t seen it Tifa told her later what had happened. Even knowing that the Weapon hadn’t meant any harm didn’t stop her from remembering the chilling wash of fear and panic as she had searched the mako desperately for any sign of life. Learning that Cloud had knocked her in, put Tifa in immense danger, only made the feeling worse.

When he reached the inn, vanishing inside without so much as a glance back, Aerith released a sigh. It had felt strange to sit up here with him, to be together where so many of his childhood memories had been formed. It must’ve been nice to have a normal childhood, she thought, with friends who actually liked you.

That was a sour thought, bitter in the back of her throat as Aerith swallowed it back. It wasn’t that she didn’t have any friends as a child, but even as a young girl her heritage had hung like a hammer over her head. When they found out, or even if they didn’t, things would always change for the worse. When they decided she was rude, or angry, or introspective, or as so many unkind kids had put it, creepy, they always turned away.

Aerith had learned to keep people at arm’s length. All it took was a little deflection here, a question turned around like barbs instead of answered there, an engulfing smile or sometimes a pout stretched coyly across her face. She learned that if she acted as they expected, then they would accept her.

Though Aerith felt safe, she was also so often alone. There was one person though, someone who Aerith had only known for a few months, who she felt could see right through her.

Aerith glanced up at the window where that one person had waved from earlier, but Tifa was gone.

Her eyes were next drawn down to the entranceway of the house. On the right side, near where the mailbox was, she found Tifa. The other woman leaned against one of the pillars that supported the second floor, eyes closed with her head tilted back against it.

Perhaps it was time to go see her. Aerith carefully gathered her feet beneath herself before standing up, brushing any loose dirt from the back of her dress. The breeze rustled her braid as she descended slowly from the platform one rung at a time.

Once she reached the bottom of the ladder, her destination was only a few steps away. Tifa hadn’t moved from before, not so much as an inch. From this distance Aerith could see that she almost looked relaxed if not for the familiar clench of anxiety in her fingers.

Tifa’s eyes fluttered open when Aerith approached, a hint of red visible within them even in the shaded light. Her hair was mussed slightly as she rightened herself from the post, lips lifting in a warm smile.

“Enjoying your tour?”

Aerith tucked her arms behind her back and nodded as she responded. “The water tower made for a great look out point.”

“I bet.” Tifa broke eye contact to glance up at the tower. “You can see everything from there.”

“Pretty much!”

When Tifa’s gaze came back to meet her own, her expression had shifted into a more pensive one. “Well, not quite everything. I know you saw through the window but…” She faltered in her words and turned her eyes down towards her hands, which came together to fidget. Tifa’s tone was soft, almost uncertain. “This is where I grew up, well, it used to be. Would you like to see it?”

Aerith’s heart panged in her chest. “Of course, if you want to show me.” She stepped forward and placed her hand gently on Tifa’s joined ones. “Lead the way.”

Tifa nodded once, mouth setting in a resolute line, before turning to do just that. Aerith trailed behind her through the front door of what used to be her home.

They passed through the downstairs areas one at a time, dodging around men in black cloaks throughout the first level of the building.

Tifa told her a story about how she used to train with her dad in the living room, but one time he deflected her kick straight through the wall and that was the end of that. She pointed out where the damage would’ve been in the old house, though this new one showed no sign of it. Tifa ran her hand over that spot on the wall, closing her eyes for a moment before pulling back.

“He sounds like a wonderful dad.” Aerith said, trying to keep the melancholy out of her tone. She hadn’t realized it until long after breaking out of Shinra, but she had never known her father or even a real father figure. It didn’t bother her too much, but in times like these she couldn’t help but think about it.

“Yeah, he was.” Tifa looked over at her with a hint of emotion in her eyes, head tilted slightly. Then, inexplicably, she smiled broadly. “I’m sure he would’ve loved you, you know. He looked after everyone; he was always kind like that.”

Aerith inhaled sharply, the response being an unexpected one. It cut straight through her thoughts, directly to her concerns and worries. This time when Aerith’s heart throbbed, it was a warmer feeling. It took a few moments for her to gather herself for a soft reply.

“Like father like daughter.”

This drew a hint of pink to Tifa’s cheeks, as well as a shake of her head. “Those are big shoes to fill.”

“I believe in you.” Aerith said strongly, her voice steady and firm. She believed every word.

Tifa’s reply came low under her breath, her face already turned away from Aerith. “Thank you.”

The two continued their trip through the house until they reached the upstairs. There were only two rooms up there, one of which Tifa pointed out as her dad’s room.

“And this one is mine.” Tifa didn’t hesitate as she pulled open the door, allowing both of them to enter.

The room itself was small and looked about the same from the inside as it had from the view on the water tower. There was a cabinet, a bed, and a piano all occupying space within the room.

Tifa went over to linger by the piano, while Aerith moved to look out the window. She could imagine past her sitting out on that platform, staring down at the abyss beneath her feet. She was on the second floor here as well, but with an entire building below her.

Aerith sat down on the side of the bed, longing again for a childhood home like this one with a childhood friend right next door. How was it that Cloud was lucky enough to know Tifa his whole life, but Aerith didn’t get to meet her until a few months ago?

“A gil for your thoughts?” Tifa’s voice came chipper and inquisitive from right in front of her.

Aerith looked up at her, covering up her surprise by lifting one finger to her chin. “For anyone else they’re not for sale. But for you, hmm…” Tifa’s eyes glimmered with emotion, concern or worry perhaps, as she waited for Aerith to finish her response. She must’ve been watching her think for a while.

They had come here into Tifa’s house to dig up her old memories, haunting and sad and terrible memories, but she wanted to know what Aerith was thinking about? If it was anyone else Aerith would’ve thought they were prying, or perhaps stalling or deflecting, but not Tifa. No, Tifa asked because she cared.

Lately, in what felt like a completely incomprehensible way, Tifa had pushed past the invisible boundaries Aerith erected around herself. This was just another moment, one of hundreds or thousands or more. In the gaze of Tifa’s kindness and care, there was nowhere for Aerith to hide. And, for perhaps the first time, she didn’t want to.

“Free.” Aerith declared with a smirk.

Tifa let out a half chuckle, gaze softening a little. “Tell me then, please.”

Aerith followed Tifa with her gaze as she sat down to her left, their knees almost touching. She took a deep breath, warm from just how close Tifa was. “I was thinking about this town. It feels odd to be where you and Cloud grew up. I never had that kind of childhood.”

Tifa moved one hand to cover Aerith’s in her lap when she paused, a silent gesture of support.

Aerith kept talking. “I always wished for a childhood friend, someone who would understand the real me. Even after escaping Shinra it was hard, being here just reminds me of that.”

“I see.” Tifa replied quietly, voice barely audible. Her face was close too, their foreheads only inches apart.

“But I’ve also been thinking that we only have so much time ahead of us, I can’t just dwell on the past.” Aerith continued, smiling softly as she spoke. “I need to appreciate the friends I’ve made, who see me for who I am. Especially you, Tifa. Ever since we met, my life has changed for the better.” Aerith finished without hesitation. “You’re the best friend I could ever ask for.” Maybe there was more to add to that once Aerith had more time to work through her feelings. For now, this was enough.

“Aerith….” Tifa’s slow inhale, so close yet still too far away, sent a tremor down her spine. “And you’re mine. You brighten every day and inspire me to push on despite the odds. No matter what happens, I’ll always be there for you.”

“Thank you.” Aerith blinked away the start of a few tears, unable to stop one from escaping. Tifa’s hand released hers and rose gently to brush that tear away. “Thank you…” She repeated, voice trailing away this time.

The touch of Tifa’s finger lingered against Aerith’s cheek for a heartbeat longer as silence took over the room, quiet but safe and warm.

Aerith leaned her head against Tifa’s shoulder for what she told herself would only be a few minutes. The warmth of an arm around her back followed, pulling Aerith even closer. The two sat together in this small room, on the second floor of a rebuilt house, in what should’ve been a destroyed town, enjoying the kindness of each other’s warmth.

What did Aerith do to deserve her? She didn’t know, but she prayed to the planet, to the lifestream, to any being out there that would listen for this relationship to last. She hoped against all odds that the cruelty of her fate would leave well enough alone and not tear the two apart, that the inevitability of gravity wouldn’t send them tumbling to their doom.