When I wasn't getting my butt handed to me by Sevika, I spent my time with Powder. She was a whirlwind of ideas, hands constantly moving, her mind always racing ahead to the next project. Somehow, she always managed to drag me along, no matter how bruised or tired I was.

One afternoon, she bounded into the room with an armful of scrap metal and gears, her blue eyes practically glowing with excitement. "Come on, I've got an idea!"

I groaned from my spot on the floor, where I was nursing what felt like my fiftieth bruise of the week. "Powder, I don't think I have enough energy left to even stand, let alone keep up with you."

She dropped the pile onto the table with a loud clatter, unfazed. "Oh, come on! This is gonna be so cool! Besides," she added with a sly grin, "you just have to sit there and do what I say."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, that sounds promising."

Powder ignored me, already sorting through the scraps with lightning-fast hands. "We're making a bird. A flying bird."

"A flying bird," I echoed, hauling myself upright and trudging to the table. "Out of junk."

"Not junk!" she said, clutching a bent gear like it was a treasure. "Pieces. You just don't have the vision yet."

I sighed, shaking my head but unable to suppress a smile. "Alright, boss. What's the plan?"

For the next hour, we worked side by side, assembling bits of metal and wire into something that vaguely resembled a bird. Powder chattered nonstop, her voice full of excitement as she explained the mechanics and how the wings would flap. I mostly nodded, pretending I understood half of what she said.

I didnt want to admit it but i was learning a lot from powder, and I was wondering about building my own little invention.

Finally, we were ready to test it. Powder held the bird in her hands, winding it up with a delicate touch. "Okay," she said, her voice trembling with anticipation. "Here goes!"

She let go, and the bird's wings began to flap. It wobbled awkwardly but stayed upright, moving in uneven little jumps across the table.

Powder let out a squeal of delight, clapping her hands. "It works! It works!" She spun around and threw her arms around me, nearly knocking me over.

"Hey, careful!" I laughed, catching her before we both toppled. "You're gonna break it—or me!"

She pulled back just enough to grin up at me, her eyes shining. "See? I told you we make a great team!"

I couldn't help but laugh, her excitement so infectious that it pushed all my aches and exhaustion to the back of my mind. "Yeah, yeah. I guess you're not a terrible boss."

Powder stuck out her tongue. "You're lucky I'm the best boss, or I'd fire you for being so slow."

"Oh, please." I gestured toward the wobbly bird. "If it weren't for me, that thing would still be a pile of—"

"Pieces!" she interrupted, crossing her arms and glaring at me with mock indignation.

"Fine," I relented with a smirk. "Pieces. But admit it—I made it look good."

She giggled, reaching out to poke my arm. "You mean you made it wobble like it's had too much to drink?"

"Hey!" I protested, laughing as I gently shoved her shoulder.

Powder turned back to the bird, her expression softening as she watched it flap its wings. "It's like it's alive," she murmured, her voice filled with wonder.

For a moment, the noise and chaos of Zaun faded away, leaving just the two of us and our little creation. I leaned against the table, my smile turning fond. "You've got a gift, Powder. I don't think I've ever met anyone who can bring stuff to life like you can."

Her cheeks flushed pink, and she ducked her head shyly. "It's not a big deal."

"It is," I insisted, nudging her gently. "You're amazing. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Powder's face lit up, but then her grin faltered. She looked down at the bird, her fingers brushing lightly over its delicate wings. "You know… most of my stuff doesn't actually work," she admitted quietly. "They always break or don't do what I want them to." She hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It's nice, having someone help me. I don't feel so... useless."

My heart squeezed at the vulnerability in her words. "Hey," I said softly, crouching beside her so she had to meet my eyes. "You're not useless. Not even close. Look at this thing." I gestured at the bird, its tiny wings moving steadily. "You made this happen. I just held the tools and asked dumb questions."

Her lips quirked into a small smile. "Not that dumb," she said, almost teasing, though her cheeks stayed pink.

"Wow, thanks," I said with exaggerated sarcasm, standing back up. "You know, I think I deserve a little more credit for this masterpiece."

Powder giggled, the sound bright and bubbling, and the shy tension seemed to lift. "Okay, okay," she relented, grinning now. "Maybe you weren't completely useless—for someone who doesn't know the difference between a gear and a sprocket."

I gasped, clutching my chest dramatically. "The betrayal! After I slaved over this bird with you?"

She laughed again, and the sound was so pure and happy that it felt like a little piece of sunlight in the dim room.

Moments like this made everything else—the bruises, the fights with Vi, the endless lessons with Sevika—feel a little less important.

At home, things with my mom were changing too. For the first time in years, we started to talk—not the quick, surface-level exchanges we used to have, but real, honest conversations. It was strange and wonderful, though it made me realize just how much we'd avoided over the years.

It didn't take a genius to notice how much time Mom and Vander were spending together. At first, it was subtle—him walking her home after work, her laughing at his jokes in a way I'd never seen before. But it didn't stay subtle for long.

One evening, Sevika and I sat on a pair of stools by the bar, nursing cups of water after another grueling training session. Vander was leaning on the counter across the room, laughing at something Mom said as she helped clean up. It was such an unfamiliar sight that I couldn't stop staring.

Sevika noticed and nudged me with her elbow. "What're you gawking at?"

I scowled, not sure if I wanted to answer, but Sevika followed my gaze and smirked. "Ah. Looks like your mom's got a thing for the big guy."

"Gross," I muttered, wrinkling my nose.

"Gross?" Sevika repeated, raising an eyebrow. "What's gross about it? Your mom deserves a break, and Vander's not bad—solid guy, looks out for everyone. Could be worse."

I shot her a glare. "Could be better, too. Like... literally anyone else!"

She snorted, amused. "You're such a brat. You know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled, slouching in my seat. "It's just weird, alright? Seeing her all... happy."

Sevika studied me for a moment, her smirk softening into something more thoughtful. "Weird doesn't mean bad, kid. Maybe you should cut her some slack. She's got her own life, just like you've got yours."

I didn't respond, mostly because I didn't have a good comeback. Instead, I took a long sip of water and tried to ignore the way Mom and Vander were still laughing together like nobody else was in the room.

The tension between Vi and me had been building for weeks, and by the time my tenth birthday passed, it was a powder keg ready to blow. The fight broke out during another one of our scavenger hunts, though the game felt like a thin excuse for Vi to boss me around.

"You're slowing us down," Vi snapped, glaring at me as I stopped to inspect a side alley. "This is a waste of time. We should've gone left at the last fork."

I clenched my fists, trying to keep calm. "Or maybe if you stopped being so bossy, we'd actually get somewhere!"

Vi spun around, her eyes blazing with frustration. "You think you're so smart, don't you? Newsflash: you don't know anything about living here. You're just a spoiled topsider pretending you belong!"

That cut deep. I stepped closer, my voice shaking with anger. "And you're just scared! Scared of anyone getting close to you, scared that if you let someone in, they might actually care about you!"

The second the words left my mouth, I knew I'd hit a nerve. Vi's face darkened, her jaw clenching.

"Take it back," she said, her voice dangerously low.

But I didn't back down. "Why? Because it's true?"

Before I could say another word, her fist connected with my jaw. The force of it sent me stumbling, stars bursting behind my eyes.

I didn't think—I reacted. With a snarl, I lunged at her, and suddenly we were on the ground, grappling like wild animals. The dirt beneath us kicked up in clouds as we rolled, each of us trying to gain the upper hand.

Vi's punches were brutal, each one landing with a force that made my whole body ache. But I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of giving up. I clawed, shoved, and swung with everything I had, even though I knew I couldn't match her strength.

At one point, I managed to catch her off guard, slamming my shoulder into her chest and knocking her back. But it didn't last long. She recovered quickly, pinning me down with a knee to my stomach.

"Stay down!" she growled, her face inches from mine.

"Go to hell!" I spat, shoving at her with all the strength I had left.

Finally, she let go, standing up and brushing the dirt off her hands. "You done?" she asked coldly, not even bothering to look at me.

I staggered to my feet, every part of me aching. My lip was split, my jaw throbbed, and my hands were scraped raw. But the worst pain wasn't physical—it was the sting of her words.

I didn't wait for her to say anything else. Turning on my heel, I stormed off, ignoring the curious stares of the others who'd gathered to watch. My whole body was trembling—not just from the fight, but from the overwhelming surge of emotions I couldn't process.

When I got home, I slammed the door so hard the walls shook.

The night Powder came over for a sleepover felt like I was sitting on the edge of a knife. Every time I thought about Vi's stupid robbery plan, my stomach churned. Should I try to stop it? Should I even bother? It wasn't like Vi ever listened to me, anyway.

For one dark, bitter second, I wondered if I should just let her fall flat on her face. Let Zaun chew her up and spit her out while I watched from a safe distance. But then the thought dissolved, replaced by the memory of Powder's eager grin whenever she showed up at my door.

That grin greeted me now as she bounced into the room, clutching a canvas bag stuffed with scraps of metal and tools, a crumpled blanket slung over one shoulder. "Liz! I brought my stuff! We can make something amazing tonight!"

I couldn't help but smile as I reached out to ruffle her messy hair. "Of course you did, Powder. Let's see what genius plan you've cooked up this time."

Behind her, Vi leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, wearing her trademark scowl. Her sharp eyes locked onto me like she was daring me to mess up in front of Powder. "Don't break her, Princess," she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"And don't trip over your ego on the way out, Red," I shot back without missing a beat.

Her gaze flicked to the still-fresh split on my lip, and her expression tightened. "What the hell, Grace? What did you do now?"

"Why do you always assume it's my fault?" I snapped, the heat rising in my face. "You're the one who punched me, remember?"

"Maybe you should stop running your mouth if you can't take a hit!" she snarled, stepping closer. Her posture screamed confrontation, her fists clenched like she was daring me to give her another reason.

"And maybe you should grow up and stop acting like every problem can be solved with your fists!" I fired back, taking a step toward her.

"Vi, stop it!" Powder's small voice cut through the tension, her face twisted in confusion and hurt. She glanced between us, clutching her bag tighter. "Why are you guys always fighting?"

Vi froze for a moment, her expression flickering with something I couldn't quite read. But before she could say anything, the front door opened, and Mom walked in with Vander, both of them balancing bags of food that filled the room with the smell of fried meat and fresh bread.

The second Mom saw my busted lip, her smile vanished. "Grace!" she exclaimed, rushing over and dropping the bag onto the table. "What happened?"

"It's nothing," I muttered, trying to brush past her, but she wasn't having it.

"It doesn't look like nothing," Vander rumbled from behind her, his eyes narrowing as he turned his attention to Vi. "You two at it again?"

Vi crossed her arms, rolling her eyes so dramatically I half-expected them to pop out of her head. "She started it," she grumbled, but her voice lacked its usual bite.

Mom grabbed a damp cloth from the kitchen and approached me with the determined look of someone about to fix something whether I liked it or not. "Hold still," she ordered, dabbing at my lip.

"Mom, it's fine!" I protested, wincing as the cloth stung against the raw skin.

"Fine doesn't bleed," she shot back, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Across the room, Vi muttered something under her breath, and even though I didn't catch it, I could guess it wasn't complimentary. I glanced at her over Mom's shoulder and, when Mom wasn't looking, shot her the smuggest grin I could muster before flipping her off.

Vi's nostrils flared, and her fists tightened at her sides, but she didn't take the bait. Instead, she turned to Powder, who was now unpacking her bag on the floor, spreading out bits of wire, bolts, and half-finished gadgets like it was Christmas morning.

Once I was cleaned up, she couldn't resist a parting shot. "Must be nice having Mommy around to clean up your messes, huh? Guess being a princess does have perks."

Her words hit me like a punch in the gut. I tried to hold it in, but the tears welled up anyway, silent and stinging. Vi's smirk faltered when she noticed. I turned and stormed off to my room before anyone could say anything, slamming the door behind me.