Chasing the Wind

CHAPTER 1: BENIGN BEGINNING

A/N: This story (or at least chapter) takes place in December 15, 2013, two days after Yasuo's acceptance into the League.

As a cool night breeze blew around the Institute of War, Yasuo sat quietly outside, playing his flute. His sword tucked away comfortably in its sheath, Yasuo took a break from his bamboo flute, and took a breath of the chilly night air. Everyone else is asleep, he thought, as he slowly rose from his position just outside the building. A particularly cold chill caught Yasuo, and as he walked back into the comfortably lit Institute, he thought about what had put him here in the first place.

He was not here without a mission. He was here to exact his revenge on the one who first caused him such pain. He had served the glorious and humble Ionian elder, Yuruke. Until the Noxians invaded. During the Noxian invasion, Yasuo, having mastered the legendary Last Breath wind technique, was given the righteous privilege of protecting the clan leader, hidden in a low profile shed in the middle of Ionia. Everyday, Yasuo would stay hidden inside the shed, keeping the elder safe from any possible attacks, listening to his comrades, his friends, being slaughtered by the disgusting Noxian scum. Everyday, Yasuo's anger would rise, not only against the Noxians, but against his superiors as well. His legendary wind technique could very well mean the difference between victory and defeat in this fight, how dare they keep him hidden and the one protecting the elder? Yasuo struggled each day, wondering whether he should leave the shed and join the fray, or stick to his post and listen to his comrades die. The answer was clear.

One dark night, while the troops were recovering and the elder fast asleep, Yasuo snuck out of the shed and into the barracks. There he waited quietly, listening to the wheezing of his fellow comrades and friends. At the break of dawn, the Noxians made their run into the Ionian base, coming head first, yelling the Noxian battle cry at the top of their lungs. Yasuo merely smirked at this, as he knew it was only for intimidation and held no real edge. Quick as his blade, he cut down the first line of Noxian soldiers, left and right, releasing his pent up anger. Somewhat. His comrades did not know he was not supposed to be here, and instead should be keeping the elder safe. But they sure were happy one of Ionia's strongest fighters was there in the fray with them.

The day drew long, and Yasuo's strength started to slowly waver. Beads of sweat finally formed along his brow, causing his fellow warriors to worry. If Ionia's strongest fighter has reached his limit fighting, how were they going to finish the fight? Yasuo could no longer contain his wind technique, and finally released all his power in a furious whirlwind, knocking the enemy commander high into the air. Seeing his chance, Yasuo lept to the Noxian scum and struck him multiple times with his blade before the Noxian commander fell the ground, dead. The air around the enemy Noxian soldiers shifted. Their commander was dead. They had no orders to fight anymore. They started a surrender, but Yasuo would not see to that. He charged back onto the battlefield, killing off the rest of the Noxian soldiers, before the Ionians could even consider the Noxian surrender. The Ionians watched Yasuo in the distance, on his knees, wheezing from the strain of the battle. They had won the battle. Or so he thought.

Yasuo woke up the next day bright and early in his bed in the Institute. "Agh… I feel sick. Definitely shouldn't have stayed out there that long last night." Chuckling quietly, Yasuo walked into his bathroom and started brushing his teeth. "Today's Monday, huh," he said to himself as he put on his scarf and slid on his shoulder armor, "another day working to find the true identity of that murderer."

Yasuo left his room and took the elevator down to the cafeteria, took a plate, and proceeded to load it up with the abundance of food from the nicely decorated cafeteria. Before he heard that obnoxious voice.

"Hey, hey, hey! New man here, I see!" Draven announced, with a couple of scantily clad ladies following him. "Sorry for the late welcome, but lately, Draaaaven's been pre-tty busyyy…"

He took a look behind him at the ladies.

"Pretty busy indeed, hehehe…"

Insolent Noxian, Yasuo thought. "Alright, Draven. What do you want?"

"What do I want? Nothin', man, just wanted to show you 'round the League of Draaaven."

The ladies behind him giggled.

"Leave me alone," Yasuo replied firmly, "I don't need a "tour" of this place."

"What?"

"Draven, I need to get something to eat, it's 8 in the morning. Don't you have other things to do?" Yasuo questioned.

"Me? My man, my man, I got tooons of things to do."

He looked at the ladies clinging onto him.

"Tons of things indeed, hehehe…"

Just when Yasuo was about punch Draven in the throat, a deep voice boomed behind him.

"Draven, leave 'em alone. Go execute someone if you really need some entertainment."

Yasuo turned around to face a large man suited in heavy battle armor, with a large axe resting on his shoulder. The red and black color scheme of his armor gave away his Noxian affiliation. Darius, the older brother of Draven, stood there firmly.

"But Draven's just gettin' started," Draven said, with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Draven." Darius cautioned.

Draven turned and started to leave with the women, before tossing over his shoulder, "Draven's gotta look out for skin 'n bones, bro."

"Sorry about that. Draven's quite the obnoxious one," Darius chuckled.

"Yeah." Yasuo replied, wanting to get the hell out of there.

"I won't keep you up with your food, go ahead." Darius smacked Yasuo's back and walked out the door.

Yasuo took a look around the cafeteria, filled with half asleep champions getting ready for another day of matches on the Rift. Sighing quietly, Yasuo found himself an empty spot at a table in the otherwise packed cafeteria. Silently munching on a piece of teriyaki taco, he looked around. Next to him sat a quiet young lady with short white hair. She was dressed in light cloth armor, big armored glove on her right hand, and a spiky grey shoulderpiece that looked more for decoration than any actual use. Balanced on the side of the table was what looked like a broken blade, with what seemed to be a large green word messily engraved on the side.

This lady soon realized that Yasuo was staring her down analytically, and replied politely, "how may I help you?"

Yasuo jolted, and quickly returned to his teriyaki taco. This lady, he thought. Who is she?

As if reading his mind, she turned to him.

"You must be Yasuo, right? I'm Riven, nice to meet you." and stuck out her huge gloved hand.

How do you handshake that? Yasuo thought, temporarily mortified.

"Yes, I am Yasuo. Nice to meet you too," He said, awkwardly handshaking her glove.

She giggled and scooped up her empty plates, then took her broken sword, and left the table.

Yasuo turned back to his tacos (which were starting to get cold) and started munching. A smile tugged at his lips, and he found himself grinning.
"What a nice welcome from such a nice lady," He said as he took a swig of apple juice.

He glanced at the clock. 8:45am. Matches start in 15 minutes, which left him 15 minutes of flute time. He scooped up his plates, put them in the dirty plate tray, and left the Institute to enjoy his melody.