Rebels (Vi x female reader)

Chapter 2: The Pink-Haired Woman

I take a step outside my home, knowing that from here on out I'll only seldom get to return if I wanna keep up this ruse, and only for a single reason: to borrow more money from my parents. I'll be on my own. Oh, and I'll have to make something up about how my studies are going whenever I drop by, in order for them not to get suspicious. Most likely I'll just say that I'm working on a big project that will be showcased to the parents at the end of the program... I don't know, I'll figure it out later.

The cool breeze and warm setting sun feel nice on my face; they distract me from my rapidly beating heart. I'm actually going through with this, it's not just a dumb idea I had out of desperation and boredom. Cogs in my head have started to turn and finally process that I'm catching a boat to Still Water Prison, a prison! One that's well known for its collection of rampant and dangerous criminals! I mean, I've been to the undercity countless times! Sure, I've seen criminals in the act, and some minor alterations here and there, but I've never been in a facility with a collection of the most wanted people in Piltover!

Trying to calm my nerves, my sweaty hands tightly grip the folder of documents and stuff them inside my coat. I reach out and straighten the stolen police badge on my chest. Finally, checking to make sure my switchblade is secure in my pocket, I take a deep breath and head down the street towards the harbor.

The harbor's water is murky and dark, the blueish black color deepened by the setting sun, with the sky's orange light fading from view on the horizon. I ride in a small, worn boat. The temperature is dropping, but I'm so focused on the looming building in front of me, I barely notice. And before I know it, we arrive.

"Excuse me, I need to speak with one of the inmates," I say firmly with confidence, keeping my back straight and making eye contact with the man at the front desk.

The prison warden looks bored, an expressionless look on his face, appearing to be neither amused nor bothered by the sudden visitor.

"Oh, the folks here aren't usually very talkative," his baritone voice replies casually.

Still looking up at him, I reply, "This one was hit by friendly fire. He's got reason to talk. Must have been sent in.. a couple of days ago?"

For a second, the man stares at me blankly, before recognition lights upon his face, "Oh! Inmate 2135... Yeah, uh, I'm afraid that's not possible."

"Why not?" I ask with an inclination of curiosity in my voice.

His eyes look towards the ceiling in thought, trying to find the exact words to say, "Uh, well, there's been... an incident."

"What kind of incident?"

"The...not so pretty kind."

I take a sharp breath, "You don't understand. I have to talk to him."

His now amused tone replies, "Oh, you'll be able to. As soon as he can move his jaw again."

Thoughts whirring, I quickly decide to ask the next best thing.

"Who assaulted him?"

After handing me the file of the inmate, he gives me the floor level and cell number of the said person, and directs me to the elevator. As I descend, I glance over the numerous papers given to me. The inmate is a woman, and strangely, not a single crime has been recorded under her name. She's also apparently instigated many brawls here, and with no legal name or information documented, in the reports made about her she's referred to as simply, "Pink," for the color of her hair.

Pink.

A girl with pink hair. Where does that strike me as familiar? It's gotta be-

Ding!