Chapter Text
Adjusting to a new boxing gym wasn’t novel to Vi, hell, she’d been in and out gyms for as long as she could remember. But this particular gym was nothing like the ones she grew up training in, a fact that hit her no less forcefully today than on the day of her job interview. The wooden floor of the reception area sparkled with a luster that screamed that this place was too expensive for the likes of her. Looking down, she grimaced at the trail of dirt she had already dragged in. Shit. She probably should’ve wiped her boots off at the mat outside.
“Lookin’ forward to meeting the tiny terrors today?”
Startled, Vi shot up her head as she who the voice belonged to. The large, bearded man was leaning against the front desk with a sly grin. If he noticed that Vi was practically painting the floorboards with mud, he certainly didn’t seem to care. His name was Loris, she recalled, and it appeared that the laissez-faire attitude he’d displayed during her interview wasn’t just for show.
She plastered on a smile, committed to at least appearing confident on her first day on the job. “Aw Loris, they won’t be that bad! There’s a reason I agreed to coaching the little ones. It was between them and a group of high schoolers, and I’d take the kids any day.”
Loris huffed out a short laugh. “You’ve got a point. Plus, Sev told me you’ve always had a way with the youngsters. And I’m sure you know she isn’t one to hand out compliments with no merit behind ‘em.”
Vi nervously shifted the strap of the duffel bag hanging over her shoulder. She considered herself to be a personable person, maybe even charming if she were to take the word of her loved ones. But something about compliments, particularly over these past few years, never really settled properly in her stomach.
“Ha, yeah. I'm just glad she landed me this gig. Nothin’ down where I’m from offered close to half this pay. And as hard as my sister works, I just wasn't holding up on my end of, ya know, everything,” she admitted, gesturing vaguely around.
Loris nodded, his mouth tight-lipped. “Ah, right. She told me ‘bout that. You're trying to save for some, uh… some kind of center? Back home with your sister?”
Pride washed across Vi’s face at the mention of their family project. “A rehab center, yeah. Well, a physical rehab center. The kind for folks with injuries, disabilities, shit like that.”
“Seems a worthy enough cause to me.”
Vi shrugged. “Weren’t many resources in Zaun when I had my accident. Figured we could do something to try and change that.”
“Well, best of luck with that. I mean it. We need more people working for good in this god-forsaken world.”
Loris reached across the desk and clapped a supportive hand against Vi’s shoulder. She quickly found her eyes drifting down at her feet, boots shuffling against the grain of the wood. The sparkling surface being scuffed because someone like her dared to drag themselves inside.
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, man.”
She managed another smile before Loris turned to shift through some of the paperwork splayed out on the desk before him.
He waved in her direction. “Now, get yourself in there and set up! Don’t know what it was like down where you’re from, but the moms around here aren’t real known for their tardiness.”
—
The students filed into the gym in a somewhat organized fashion, wearing a variety of expressions across their faces. About half of them appeared to be either bored or downright annoyed to be enrolled in this class, and Vi had to wonder if their parents weren’t throwing money at every after-school program imaginable to keep them out of the house for the summer. What each student did have in common was that their individual outfits appeared to cost more than the entirety of Vi’s own wardrobe. Maybe even more than her entire living room, considering how many pieces she’d thrifted off the side of the road and refurbished during her recent move.
It was difficult to miss that there were only two girls amongst the sea of primly dressed students. One of them had already made her way to the front of the room and settled into what was a clearly well-practiced stretching routine. It looked as though there had been an attempt to tame her chin-length purple hair, albeit not one most people would consider successful. She blew a stray strand out of her freckled face, powder blue eyes squinting in concentrated effort as she began to perform a hamstring stretch.
Impressed by the level of diligence she was already displaying, Vi approached the purple-haired girl with an approving smile. “Stretching is super important for your body before movement, you know. Glad to see you’re already a step ahead of the game.”
The student, who looked to be about six or seven years old, slowly returned to standing. She tilted her head as she looked up at Vi, her mouth downturned in an unimpressed frown. “I know that already. My Mummy taught me.”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Of course you do. Well…that’s great, “Vi responded with an awkward chuckle, scratching the back of her neck.
The girl lifted an eyebrow before wordlessly returning to her stretches.
Vi was good with kids, excellent with them, in fact. While impressing her Piltovan employers was another matter entirely, she hadn’t felt remotely anxious about taking a job with elementary school-aged children. And she certainly hadn’t anticipated being tripped up within a mere five minutes of beginning her first class. Glancing uncomfortably around the gym, Vi could see that the rest of the children were milling about without much direction. She figured she might as well get the ball rolling before she could be thrown any further off her game.
“All right class! I think we’re just about ready to get started here, yeah? My name’s Coach Vi, and I’ll be your instructor for the next six weeks.” She surveyed the group as she spoke, noting an even mix of eager nods and unenthused glares. Unsurprisingly, a number of the students were glancing intermittently at her leg, seemingly in attempts to not outwardly stare. She didn’t mind the looks, she really didn’t. She found them harmless most of the time, particularly when it came to children.
“Let’s get this outta the way - you’ve noticed my leg, right? And you have some questions?” Vi grinned as a few of the students began to excitedly talk over each other. In her experience, kids simply wanted to be given the information. A prosthetic leg wasn’t something she expected they saw every day, and their curiosity wasn’t the result of judgment.
“Hey, hey! Raise your hands, and I’ll answer like…three or four questions before we get started. Nothing off the table.”
A few hands timidly rose into the air, but one student confidently shot her hand up without missing a beat. Vi’s eyes landed immediately on the fingers wiggling in front of her face, belonging to none other than the young girl with purple hair and three dinosaur band-aids plastered across her knobby knees.
“Yeah? You?” Vi called, nodding in the direction of the girl.
“Are yew a robot?”
While inherently ridiculous in nature, Vi wasn’t unfamiliar with this type of question. And she found it was admittedly more bearable to field when delivered in a miniature Piltie accent.
“Hey, uh - what’s your name, kid?”
“My name is Charlotte,” the girl stated plainly.
Vi felt like air was suddenly being siphoned out of her lungs. She hadn’t heard someone utter that name in years; not since discussing baby names with her now ex-wife, back when things like hope and possibility were still as accepted as truth in her world. If those dreams had ever panned out, if they could have just been a family, how different would her life look now?
“Hello? Coach Vi?” Charlotte’s voice broke Vi out of the headspace she spent so much of her time avoiding. The girl’s gaze was still fixed on Vi’s face, her expression turned somewhat perturbed. “Yew didn’t answer my question.”
Vi took a moment to clear her throat before attempting a response. “Sorry, um, no. I’m not a robot. I’m a human like you all, just happen to be missing part of my leg.”
Feeling confident that she’d regained adequate composure, Vi’s posture straightened. Charlotte’s hand shot up in the air again.
It was only fair to ensure the other students had an opportunity to have their questions answered as well. Scanning past Charlotte to survey the group, Vi’s eyes landed on a young boy with neatly trimmed pink hair and a wide-eyed expression. “How about you? What’s your name?”
“I’m Vincent,” he chirped. “Does it hurt, Coach Vi?”
“Nah, doesn’t hurt at all. I was in a car accident, before anyone asks what happened. It certainly did hurt at first, but it’s been healed up for years.”
The boy nodded, seemingly relieved by her response. Charlotte, however, began to wave her hand back and forth in the air. With a sigh that she hoped went unnoticed by the less experienced eyes of her students, Vi pointed at Charlotte once more.
“Go ahead.”
“Are yew a pirate, then?”
There was something unnerving about how the girl’s grey-blue eyes bore into her as she awaited her answer. Vi was plenty used to stares, especially from children. She was an amputee who also happened to be covered in tattoos and piercings - kids looked. But this felt different.
Vi took a deep breath in through her nose. “No, Charlotte. I’m not a pirate, I’m just a person with a piece of equipment called a prosthetic.” She tapped a finger against the metal to clarify exactly what constituted the device.
No sooner than Vi was able to glance back out toward the group had Charlotte raised her hand again.
“Okay, ya know what, kids?” Vi slapped her hands against her knees. “I think we’re out of time for questions today. If you have something burning in your head, feel free to catch me after class.”
A chorus of disappointed mumbles was accompanied by hands dropping back into their laps. She knew that the kids having unanswered questions could be distracting during the lessons, but perhaps it was best to satiate some of their curiosities in a more one-to-one setting.
“Everyone stand on up, we’re gonna learn about the fighting stance.”
—
Halfway through the hour-long class, it was time for the students to each take a minute to individually display what they’d learned thus far.
“Okay, now it’s time to practice the jab we just went over. Each of you will come up and try it out on my pads here. Got it?” Vi held up her padded hands and tapped them together for emphasis.
When the group erupted into a symphony of agreeable mumbles, Vi shook her head affectionately.
“C’mon! Everyone, repeat after me. ‘Yes, Coach!’”
A cacophony of young voices that somewhat resembled “Yes, Coach!” followed suit.
The first few students made genuine, if not uniquely interesting, attempts at recreating the stance and move that Vi had shown them. It was clear that these kids had quite a different upbringing than the average child she knew from her hometown, and most had likely never thrown a true punch before in their lives. She did note that some of the students, Vincent included, seemed to have a natural athleticism that would serve them well as the class progressed.
Eventually, it was time for Charlotte to take her turn. She stepped up to the mat with Vi, adopting the fighting stance they’d gone over with immediate precision.
“Show me what you got, kid.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, she landed a jab that was impressive not only in accuracy but in strength. The girl rolled her shoulders as she stepped back, staring up at Vi with grey-blue eyes and a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. Vi couldn't deny that she saw parts of her younger self in this girl. Perhaps that wasn’t much of a surprise, considering the level of tenacity she so confidently brought to the table.
“You know, my Mama’s name is also Vi.”
Vi raised a brow at the sudden statement. What were the odds?
“Ya don't say? It short for something?”
She shrugged. “Not that my Mummy ever told me.”
What an unusual way for a child to talk about their parent. But Vi had never been able to wrap her head around Piltie social conventions, and she wasn't about to start trying now.
“Huh. Gimme one more.”
The seven-year-old shuffled briefly before planting her feet with the resolution of someone twice her age. The punch that followed wasn’t quite as clean as the first, but the force behind it was still there.
“Very nice! You’ve got a strong arm.”
“Thank you. I know I do!” Charlotte nodded with an assured smile.
Vi wasn’t going to let herself be thrown by this eerily familiar sense of confidence any longer.
“Being sure of yourself goes a long way, but try to slow it down next time. You’re compromising on accuracy if you focus too hard on speed.”
Charlotte’s hands found her way to her hips, her eyes narrowing in on Vi. If she had to wager a guess, Vi figured this girl was somewhat unfamiliar with criticism. Perhaps she’d plan for a class-wide lesson on humility in the upcoming weeks. After all, a good boxer knew when it was time to be humble.
Vi beckoned for Charlotte to return to her spot in the gym before gesturing toward the line of waiting students.
“C’mon! Who’s next?”
—
As the students filed out of the gym to meet their caregivers for pick-up, Vi spotted Loris grinning at her through the waiting area window. She nodded toward him, knowing full well he’d be dying to hear how the class had gone.
He was still sporting a brazen smile as he made his way over to where she was wiping down some of the equipment. “So? How was it? Seems like no one broke anything? No missing teeth?”
“Yeah, yeah,” she laughed, waving the rag she was holding in his face. “Things went pretty well, honestly.”
“Mm. Glad to hear it!”
Vi knelt down to clean another mat, but she paused mid-air as she started reaching for the sanitizer. “Actually, there was one thing that stood out. You know that purple-haired girl, Charlotte?”
Loris nodded. “What about ‘er?”
Vi placed the cleaning supplies down and crossed her arms. “It’s funny. She reminds me of me, when I was a kid. All ‘punch first and think later’, but with real… oomph behind it, ya know?”
“Mm. Yeah, I can see it,” Loris responded with a shrug.
“I didn’t think Piltie kids came with that kinda grit.”
“Every once in a while we’ll have a kid come through who shows some real potential. But most of ‘em are just here for glorified babysitting with a few poorly timed hits thrown in.”
“Huh. Is this her first time in a boxing class?”
Loris pursed his lips in thought. “Hm. I dunno. I do remember her mom was here practically throwing cash at me the other week to let her daughter join in last minute. If she didn’t fuckin’ terrify me, I would’ve held my own because, ya know… policy and all that. But she was all business. Well, and money. And she was smokin’ hot. Long dark hair, tall as hell, and legs for days.”
Vi’s eyes widened, in part because this woman did sound incredibly intimidating, but also because she was the on-paper version of exactly her type. If she hadn’t felt driven to speak to her about her daughter’s prowess before, she would make sure it happened now.
“Uh, wow. Okay. I - let me know when she gets here, will ya? I wanna talk to her about Charlotte.”
—
“Mummy!”
Vi began to turn around, recognizing the voice of her most promising new pupil calling to her mother. She figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a word with this woman about her daughter’s successful first day. If the girl’s enthusiasm didn’t falter, Vi hoped she would see more of her as she honed what appeared to be a natural talent. Hell, she wouldn't complain if her Piltie parents wanted to splurge and sign her up for individual lessons. A win-win for everyone.
“Hello, my darling!”
That voice. She had heard those exact words, carrying that precise melodic lilt, more times than she could count. She had been so sure she’d never hear that voice again. Vi turned to face the familiar voice, her body now frozen in place.
There she was. The woman who Vi knew with absolute certainty to be the love of her life. The woman she hadn't seen or heard from in nearly seven years. The woman who she had left behind in what felt like an entirely different lifetime. Her ex-wife, Caitlyn Kiramman.
She was bent down, eye-level with the purple-haired student who had shown so much promise in class. She wore a familiar smile on her face, the corners of her eyes crinkled in the way they always did when she was looking at someone she loved. She looked just as radiant as Vi remembered. Her face remained unchanged, save for a certain tiredness in her eyes that Vi recognized only from memories of her own mother.
But this moment of reminiscence was cut abruptly short as watched her ex-wife’s gaze drift upwards, her expression transforming into something so bitterly familiar to Vi. Caitlyn opened her mouth, but she closed it just as quickly.
Charlotte turned to look at Vi with a quizzical frown, her brows knit tightly on her furrowed forehead. She spun back to face Caitlyn, planting concerned hands against her shoulders.
“Mummy? Are you okay?”
Vi was, for possibly the first time in her entire life, completely at a loss for words.
Caitlyn, perhaps in possession of some maternal strength that Vi had not been afforded the opportunity to develop, was able to fix her gaze back on her daughter. She took a deep breath and placed a reassuring hand across her daughter’s back.
“Charlotte, Vi and I need to have a word with one another.”
Vi's name left Caitlyn's mouth with an air of cruel familiarity, laced with something akin to disdain.
Suddenly, Charlotte was whipping her head between the two women, her mouth open in disbelief. She turned toward her coach, studying Vi's features with impossibly wide-eyes. Uncooperative hair sticking out in every direction, powder-blue irises, freckles spattered unevenly across her face. She spun back around to face her mother, whose uncomfortable expression told her everything she needed to know.
“You’re Mama Vi?!"