Chapter Text
Despite the cold of the Noxian winter, the father and his two daughters are in the garage. The younger twin has sat on the worn leather couch next to the red tool cart. She has both feet up on the upholstery, shod in fluffy slippers. Her knees are held tightly against her chest.
Hunched under the hood of the car, the father and his eldest daughter are changing the spark plugs on a purple 1970 Dodge Charger with a black vinyl roof. They talk about other possible—future—repairs to the muscle car.
Hyacinth watches in silence. Her eyes roam the garage full of tools. She’s been like this since she woke up, seemingly trying to commit every little detail to memory.
“You don’t have to go.” Catalina sat down next to her daughter, pulling her out of her daze.
“Where?” Hyacinth looked at her mother, confused.
“Piltover.” The mother replied, reaching out to touch her daughter’s shoulder. “You can study here.”
“You’ve already rented an apartment in Piltover, with a one-year lease.”
“Dahlia goes. You stay.”
“Why?” Hyacinth frowned in disgust.
“You’re… different, Hyacinth. Different from your sister.” The mother sighed, mirroring her daughter’s expression. “I know she’ll do fine on her own, but you, my dear… I’m afraid you won’t adapt to so much independence.”
“Mom.” Her daughter groaned, shrinking even further.
“I’m serious, honey. You’ve never been independent.” Catalina tightened her grip on her daughter’s shoulder. “And Piltover is a big city. Different. Next door to Zaun, of all cities. What if you get lost? What if you get mugged? Or worse?”
“But Dahlia could get lost, too. Or mugged. Or worse.”
“Bê, I’m just worried about you.”
“Not about her?” Hyacinth gave her mother a strange look.
“She worries because you’re weird and stupid.” Dahlia’s voice interrupted the conversation between mother and youngest daughter.
“Dahlia Gabriela!” Catalina scolded her, to which Bjorn lightly slapped the older daughter on the back of the head.
“Watch the way you talk to your sister, Bê.” Bjorn scolded his older daughter.
“Uh-huh.” Dahlia grumbled, gathering up the old spark plugs and placing them in the empty box of new ones to be discarded later.
“You’re not weird or stupid, Bea,” Catalina told her youngest daughter, wrapping her arm around her shoulders and hugging her. “She just has different habits than her sisters.”
“Poor you if I were like Dahlia.”
“Hey!” Dahlia exasperated, placing the box of old spark plugs on the workbench organized by Hyacinth.
“I’m just stating an obvious fact.” Hyacinth shrugged.
“Why are you all so pissed today?” Bjorn complained, lowering the hood of Dahlia’s car. “This is your last fucking day home. Stop this shit.”
Hyacinth let out a small groan, curling up tighter and snuggling into Catalina’s body. Her mother smiled slightly, pulling her closer.
“Shall we go out to dinner since it’s our last night here?” Dahlia asked, pushing the side table full of tools away from the car.
“I want pizza.” Hyacinth asked against her mother’s chest.
“Does that sound like a plan, Dahlia?” Bjorn asked his oldest daughter.
“Yeah, maybe. Great.” Dahlia replied, putting away her tools.
[...]
“Excuse me, can you take a picture of us?” Dahlia asks one of the pizza waiters.
“Sure, sure.” The waiter nods, taking the phone from Dahlia’s hand.
Hyacinth slips between Catalina and Bjorn, putting her arms around her parents’ shoulders. Dahlia stands next to Catalina, and her mother wraps an arm around her older daughter’s waist, pulling her closer.
When everyone is smiling, the waiter takes a photo. Catalina with her wide, warm mother’s smile, Bjorn with just a subtle curl of his lips beneath his beard. Dahlia smiles broadly, her eyes closed and the gap between her teeth showing, while Hyacinth smiles with her dimples showing.
“Thank you.” Dahlia and Hyacinth say at the same time, as Dahlia takes her phone back.
“Send it to me.” Hyacinth asks her older sister, peeking over her shoulder to see the photo. “I want to post it on Instagram.”
“Okay, calm down, I’ll send it now.” Dahlia pulled away from her sister, returning to her place at the four-seater table at the pizzeria.
Bjorn watched his two daughters, a sad but proud gleam in his brown eyes. He felt like he had had so little time with them and now, all of a sudden, they were going to another city, almost twenty hours away by car. He knew it was for their own good, for their future as educators.
As a father, he knew they needed to leave home, that they had to learn to deal with adult life on their own, but when he looked at the two eighteen-year-olds, Dahlia with her black hair in a wild pixie cut and Hyacinth with her long red curls, all he could think of were the little babies he and his wife had adopted.
[...]
When they got home, after listening to 1970s rock on Catalina’s Honda Civic stereo the whole way, the twins were in their respective pajamas. Catalina and Bjorn were still awake, the father watching a documentary about Ford on the living room television and the mother sitting next to him, bouncing her knee anxiously.
“Mom, Dad.” Hyacinth’s soft voice broke Bjorn’s attention from the documentary.
“Can you guys… um… put us to bed?” Dahlia asked, standing next to her sister, a step behind.
Catalina quickly stood up, letting out an exultant sigh. She had been expecting something like this from Hyacinth, who didn’t like sleeping alone, but the request coming from Dahlia made her happier than having received that promotion at the hospital.
“Of course, Bê.” Catalina said as Bjorn stood up after pausing the documentary.
“Which room?” Bjorn asked, also excited.
“Hyacinth.” Dahlia said, walking upstairs. “She doesn’t like my bed.”
“Your blankets have a weird texture.” The younger sister complained.
“Ptf, okay.” The older sister rolled her eyes.
As the two daughters lie down on Hyacinth’s double bed, Catalina takes one side of the bed and Bjorn takes the other. They pull Hyacinth’s blankets up over them. Bjorn leans down and kisses Hyacinth on the forehead, while Catalina kisses Dahlia.
“Goodnight, Bê,” they say, almost in unison.
Then they switch places. Catalina kisses Hyacinth on the forehead and Bjorn kisses Dahlia on the forehead. They say goodnight again. The daughters say goodnight again.
When they leave the room, Catalina is crying silent tears. Bjorn closes the bedroom door, leaving the dark room behind.
[...]
“Do you promise to call every day?” Catalina asked, holding each daughter’s hand.
“Every day, Mommy.” Hyacinth replied, her voice breaking. “I promise.”
“Yes, I promise.” Dahlia nodded, lifting a hand to wipe the tears from her mother’s cheek.
“And you’re going to keep up with the car maintenance?” Bjorn asked, wedging himself between his daughters and wrapping his arms around their shoulders.
“Of course, Dad.” Dahlia rolled her eyes playfully. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“You should go,” Bjorn said, leaning down to kiss each of their hairs.
“It’s a long drive.” Catalina sighed sadly. “Don’t drive the whole way without stopping to rest.”
“We’ll stop at some roadside hotel. I’ll let you know.” Dahlia says, while her sister is busy blowing her nose.
“Try to visit us sometime.” Hyacinth asks, after blowing her nose.
“Come home for the summer holidays.” Bjorn says.
“If you can, of course.” Catalina adds.
“I’ll come back even if Dahlia doesn’t come back.” Hyacinth says, pulling away from her father to hug her mother.
“I love you, Bê,” Catalina whispered in her daughter’s ear. “I love you, my daughter.”
“I love you, Mom,” The daughter whispered back.
When mother and daughter pulled apart, Bjorn and Dahlia were hugging each other. The father let go of his older daughter to pull his younger daughter against his chest. Catalina hugged Dahlia, tangling her fingers in her daughter’s choppy, dark hair.
“Mommy loves you, Bê,” she whispered in her daughter’s ear.
“I love you a billion, Ma.” Dahlia said, holding her mother’s face in her hands, kissing her forehead.
When the goodbyes were over, Dahlia got into her muscle car, sitting on the leather seat. Hyacinth hesitated to get into her Honda, looking at her father and mother. She smiled, feeling her nose burn and her eyes water. Finally, after a few moments, she got into the car, settling into the pink sports seat.
She knew it wasn’t goodbye, her parents would always be there, waiting for her and Dahlia, but the distance that would be imposed between them was absurd. It was hard, but it was her dream. Her sister’s dream. She was going to do it.
[...]
In Piltover, at the Kiramman Estate, Caitlyn and Violet sit at a table, drinking tea. This would be a perfectly ordinary scene for the couple, if it weren’t for the childish table and chairs, which make them bend their long legs uncomfortably, if the tea wasn’t fake, and if they weren’t surrounded by giant plushies of their omega puppy, Lavender. But, forget it, the scene of the powerful alpha couple hunched over a childish table pretending to drink tea was also ordinary. Don’t let the Enforcer troops know that their demanding commander was an avid drinker of imaginary tea, or that the most feared Enforcer on the front lines, Violet Spisak, wears a childish plastic crown as if it were the most honorable medal she’s ever received.
“This is outrageous!” Caitlyn exasperated in her thick accent.
“How could Mrs. Rainbow refuse to invite us to our tea party?” Violet asked in mock shock, placing her hands on her hips.
“It’s the princesses’ tea party, Papa,” Lavender corrected, giving her father a frowning look. “It’s not a tea party. That was last week.”
“Oh, of course, princess. How could I forget?” Violet shook her head slightly, ruffling her pink hair. “I’m sorry. Mrs. Rainbow is so silly for not wanting to attend our princess tea party.”
“She’ll regret it when we tell her how good our tea and cookies were,” Caitlyn says, setting her plastic teacup back down on its plastic saucer. She picks up one of the cookies laid out on a silver platter, then takes a bite.
“And I’m not even inviting her to the party next week for cupcakes.” Lavender says, shaking her head as she rests her hands on her small waist.
“That’s right, princess.” Violet nods. “We’re going to have a big party and she won’t be invited. We’re going to have the best cupcakes in Piltover.”
“And Cousin Isha is going to come and we’re going to build Legos again!” Lavender exasperates, jumping up and down before throwing herself at Caitlyn. “I want a cat Lego, Daddy.”
“Lego cat?” Caitlyn asked, arching an eyebrow. “Of course, sprout. Anything you ask.”
“Yeah!” Lavender squealed a little, hugging her father around the neck.
[...]
The rented apartment is small and simple, intended for young singles. Built near the Piltover Academy campus, the apartment has only one bedroom, just big enough for a double bed, a small closet and a dresser; a forty-inch television is mounted on the wall. The kitchen is even smaller, with only room for the refrigerator, a four-burner stove, and the countertop with a sink and a countertop above the sink.
The bathroom has a bathtub, though. The shower curtain is blue, a discreet but ugly thing. The living room has a dining table with two chairs, a loveseat, and a small television on a wall panel. All the walls are a very pale, boring cream color. Hyacinth and Dahlia hate it, but it's what they can afford, with their parents' help.
It takes about an hour for them to unload their bags from their cars, which, unfortunately for the sisters, have to be parked on the street since the building does not have a garage. Luckily, they had canvas car covers to cover their cars, a gift from their parents before they left for Piltover.
Since Dahlia had a lot of faux leather clothes, they had agreed that she would take the closet and Hyacinth would take the dresser. They tidy up with music.
Hyacinth hates the idea of sleeping in a bed where someone — someone she doesn’t know — has already slept, but at least they brought their own bedding and blankets. And pillows, since Hyacinth would never sleep peacefully with her head on someone else’s pillow.
The sisters eat instant noodles for dinner. They take a shower and go to bed. It's a sad and depressing way to start a new phase of life in a new city, especially on a Friday night, but Dahlia is tired from the trip, with a headache, and Hyacinth is deplorably sad about leaving her parents behind.
[...]
“A new prefect?” Violet asked, setting down her coffee mug.
“Principal Nott is confident she’ll be a good fit for Lavender,” Caitlyn replied, rubbing her forehead. “She said the girl studied teaching in high school and is fluent in sign language. She’ll start studying education at the Academy when the semester starts and will start working at the Kiramman Institute at the beginning of the semester as well.”
“So, Monday? In two days?” Violet asked, arching an eyebrow. “Why did she tell us so at the last minute?
“She said she forgot.”
“Did she forget? Damn, we paid her extra to take care of Lavender and the bitch forgot to tell us something so important?” The alpha growls, gritting her teeth.
“She was warned not to repeat that mistake,” Caitlyn says, tilting her head slightly in thought. “I’ll read this girl’s file, see if we can have her working with Lavender.”
“What’s her name again?”
“Hyacinth Andersen,” Caitlyn says, before lifting her cup to take a sip of tea. “I’ve already asked for her profile. I want to know everything about her if we’re going to consider having her work with Lavender.”