The infiltration continued — a masterpiece of unnecessary stealth. Kaen, fully immersed in his elite-spy persona, led the way. His commitment to the role was absolute. He did a somersault to cross a two-meter alley they could have walked across. He camouflaged himself by trying to imitate a gargoyle's pose on a building corner, holding the position for almost a minute until Jinx tossed a pebble at him to make him move, telling him his pose looked like he urgently needed to pee.
The comic core of the infiltration was Kaen's total dedication to the bit. He landed in a superhero stance before pressing his back to the next wall. He whispered dramatically, even when Jinx was right beside him.
Kaen tried to get her to move like him, glued to the walls. "Agent Jinx! Break formation! You're way too exposed in the open!" he hissed urgently.
Jinx sighed. "Just walk! You look like a crab having a seizure!" she shot back in a loud whisper.
He completely ignored her. "Negative. We must maintain stealth discipline."
Finally Jinx gave up and, with a shrug, decided to copy him. She moved stealthily behind him and started to exaggerate his ridiculous movements.
Now the mission wasn't just following Kaen but outdoing his absurd seriousness. Tiptoeing with knees unnaturally high, or rolling across the cobbles with a dramatic flourish when he wasn't looking. Their stealth mission had become a silent contest to see who could be the most ridiculous spy.
Reality, however, has a way of butting in.
"Hey!" Jinx suddenly whispered, her tone shifting into feigned urgency. She pulled Kaen into the shadow of a stone arch.
Kaen froze mid-"crab-walk." "What is it, Agent Jinx? Enemy contact?"
"Enemy patrol, three o'clock!" Jinx hissed, the fun gone from her voice.
Kaen peered around the arch, squinting. Far down the long, straight street, under a lamplight, he saw a patrol of three Enforcers moving at a slow, methodical pace; their blue uniforms stood out sharply against the night stillness.
"Red alert! The enemy approaches!" Kaen hissed. "Slippery Eel Protocol activated!"
"Stop inventing protocols!" Jinx hissed back.
Before she could react, Kaen grabbed her wrist. His strength surprised her, but it wasn't rough. He pulled her with him, slipping off the main street into the first refuge they saw: a narrow, dark alley between two elegant residential buildings.
They pressed into the shadows, the smell of cold stone and nearby garden blooms filling the air. Kaen gently pushed her against the wall and positioned himself in front of her, using his body as a shield. The darkness was nearly total.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
The heavy boots of the Enforcers grew louder — a slow, ominous beat drawing nearer. They passed the alley entrance; their lantern beams swept the wall inches from their faces before moving on. They walked slowly, eyes scanning the empty streets.
In the dark, Kaen and Jinx stayed perfectly still. Her face was pressed against his leather jacket. He felt Jinx's soft, steady breath on his chest.
The Enforcers moved on without stopping, their muted conversation about increased patrols fading into the distance.
But in the narrow, dark alley, the world remained suspended.
Kaen did not move away. His gaze stayed on her, expression unreadable in the gloom. He did not resume his ridiculous spy charade. He simply stayed there. He noticed how close they were, how fragile she seemed. The adrenaline of the near-capture faded, leaving behind a different kind of tension.
The air felt thick; they were trapped in the sudden, unexpected intimacy of the alley. They were so near they could feel each other's heat and hear each other's heartbeats. Jinx's face tilted up, and in the near-absolute darkness, lit only by a faint reflected lamplight, her big blue eyes looked like moonlit wells. He could see every eyelash, the way her breath fogged the cold air between them.
Jinx's gaze met Kaen's and she realized he wasn't watching the alley entrance. His violet eyes, seeming almost to drink in the little light and refract it back, were fixed on her. There was a quiet intensity, a total focus that made her feel like the only person in the world.
Kaen's look drifted slowly down — from his eyes, over the bridge of his nose, to her lips.
Jinx held her breath.
She felt a jolt run down her spine: he was really looking at her. Not at "his number-one fan." He was looking at her. And the way he looked…
She thought he was going to kiss her.
The idea hit her like one of her own explosions. Her normally noisy mind, crowded with ghosts and clamor, fell utterly silent. The memory of the kiss on the dock — urgent, clumsy, raw — came back. But this felt different…
A strange flutter, like a swarm of moths trapped in her belly, took hold. She found herself leaning slightly toward him, an unconscious movement, a response to the gravity of his gaze. She wondered what a deliberate kiss would feel like.
Kaen saw the slight tilt, the eager gleam in her eyes.
He raised a hand, slowly. She did not pull back. His long pale fingers brushed her cheek. Her skin was cool, yet the touch sent a wave of heat through her. His thumb traced her jawline gently — a tenderness so unexpected it left her breathless.
He leaned in.
The space between them vanished. She could feel his breath on her lips. Time stretched, full of infinite possibility.
Kaen's artist mask slipped entirely away, revealing something even he had not known was there.
And he kissed her.
It was completely unlike the dock kiss. No urgency, no clumsiness. It was slow, deliberate. His lips, cold at first, met hers with a softness that took her by surprise. His other hand rose to cradle her face, fingers tangling in her blue hair.
For a moment Jinx froze, stunned by the tenderness. Then she answered. Her hands, which had been limp at her sides, flew up to clutch the front of his leather jacket. The kiss deepened — a silent conversation, an admission of the strange, undeniable connection that had grown between them.
They pulled apart slowly, needing air. Their foreheads rested together in the dark intimacy. The sound of their breathing was the only thing in the silence.
"Mm," Jinx whispered, the sound a breath.
Kaen said nothing. He simply looked at her, his violet eyes shining in the dark.
Finally Kaen withdrew his hand; the warmth of his touch left a cold trace on Jinx's skin. He stepped back a pace, creating a necessary space between them. The connection stretched but did not break.
Kaen cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "Perimeter clear," he whispered, his monotone a little less steady than usual. "Mission resumed."
"Mission resumed," Jinx echoed softly.
Kaen hurried out of the dark alley.
Jinx stood where she was, rubbing the cheek he had touched, heart still pounding.
She leapt from the alley to his side and they continued on. The game resumed, but something had changed. There was a new awareness between them, a connection forged in that dark alley. The farce felt a little less like play and more like an excuse to stay near each other.
...
A few minutes later they found a small park — an oasis of perfectly trimmed grass and geometric hedges. In the center stood a single wrought-iron bench. Lamplight filtered through the willow's leaves, painting dancing patterns on the ground.
Kaen, deciding that even super-spies needed a break, dropped his act. He straightened, stopped crouching, and walked to the bench with almost disappointingly normal movement.
"Tactical pause," he announced, his voice returning to its habitual monotone, though for once a touch lower than usual. "Agent Dead Fish needs a moment to reflect on the next phase of the operation."
He sat on the bench, the leather of his jacket creaking softly. Jinx followed, her spy façade slipping off. The playful energy dissipated; she sat beside him.
For several minutes they said nothing. Jinx rested her hands in her lap, watching the fog swirl through the willow leaves.
She turned to him. He wasn't looking at her — he was reclined on the bench, staring up at Piltover's starless sky.
"Hey," Jinx said, her voice surprisingly soft and without its usual edge.
"Hmm?" he answered, not taking his eyes off the sky.
"Kaen," she said, using his real name.
That got his attention. He turned to look at her.
"About earlier," she continued, blue eyes locked on his. "At the dock… when you started to glow and the blast. Are you… really okay?"
The question was simple but loaded with the weight of her strange new concern.
"It's… part of what I am," Kaen said, looking at his hands. "My body adapts. It regenerates. And it seems to respond to… certain frequencies." He thought of the hum that had called to him. "What happened at the dock was an overload. Like plugging a gramophone into the city's power grid. Too much energy, too fast."
"So… you're not going to explode or anything?" Jinx asked, her voice almost a whisper.
Kaen turned to her, and the smallest, almost imperceptible smile brushed his lips. "No, Agent Jinx. I will not explode. This body was made to adapt to anything. Also," he added, his tone sliding back into absurdity, "I have the best bodyguard in all of Zaun. You told me you'd beat me with an oar if I started shining again. That's a surprisingly solid contingency plan. I trust your violent judgment."
Tension eased from Jinx's shoulders. The answer satisfied her. A mischievous smile returned to her face.
"I'd hit you with something heavier than an oar," she said, elbowing him.
"I know," he replied. "And that's why our partnership works so well."
They sat in companionable silence a little longer — but this time it felt lighter. The question had been asked. The answer, in its own strange way, given. The bond between them had strengthened, threaded with a shard of genuine trust. He was no longer just a source of entertainment. And she, for him, was no longer just his number-one fan. In a way neither could have named, they were starting to look out for one another.
...
As they neared the Academy district, the atmosphere shifted. Residential buildings gave way to larger, more imposing structures. Enforcer patrols, sporadic at this hour, were alert and real. The hum in Kaen's head became a steady, clear pulse. He was close to his goal.
"The terrain is changing, Agent Jinx," Kaen whispered, pressing his back against the base of a huge statue of a bespectacled scholar. "I can smell knowledge and bureaucracy in the air."
"And I can smell Enforcers," Jinx replied quietly, more serious now. She nodded. Far down the wide avenue, a two-man patrol made its rounds.
The sight of blue uniforms stripped away any remaining pretense of play. They tucked themselves into the shadow of the statue, watching the patrol pass. Kaen suddenly felt very aware of how close Jinx was in the cramped space, how her breath hitched at the sight of their adversaries.
When the coast was clear, they moved again, this time with real stealth. They crossed the plaza using the column shadows as cover until they reached their destination: the Academy's main building.
They crouched behind a low wall, sizing up the imposing structure. Lights glowed on the upper floors. The hum Kaen had been chasing was undeniably strong here — a constant throb at the edge of perception.
"What's the plan, Captain Dead Fish?" Jinx asked, playful but with an edge of seriousness.
Kaen peered over the wall, evaluating the entrance. Two guards stood by the main doors, motionless like sentries in a painting.
"Simple," Kaen said, stroking his chin. "I ring the bell. Say I'm an experimental exchange student from Zaun with an urgent appointment with Professor Heimerdinger about… the theory of mustaches. They'll be so impressed by my vocabulary and impeccable résumé they'll hand me the city keys and likely offer a scholarship."
Jinx gave him a look that plainly read, you are unbelievably stupid.
"Or," she said, pointing up with her thumb, "we can use that window some careless Piltover resident left open."
Kaen followed her gaze. About twenty meters up, a window was slightly ajar. An impossible gap for an ordinary person to reach.
"Hmm," Kaen considered. "Excellent observation, Agent Jinx. Your plan is tactically superior and much less dependent on academic bureaucracy."
"Always is," Jinx said with a satisfied smile. "But it's high. How do we get up there without being seen?"
Kaen looked at the distance. He looked at Jinx — light, agile. Then he looked at himself, feeling the latent Shimmer power in his muscles.
"I have an idea," he said, playfulness returning to his tone. "But it requires absolute confidence in my athletic abilities."
They moved to the building base. The window was their only entry, too high to scale without gear.
He crouched, flexing his knees. "Come here."
Jinx blinked, puzzled. "What?"
"Climb into my arms. I'll jump."
She stared. "Jump? Do you think you're some kind of grasshopper?"
"My dear bodyguard number one," he said, mildly offended, "do you doubt my athletic prowess? I am deeply wounded."
She hesitated, then saw the same absurd confidence that had made her follow him in the first place. With a sigh half exasperation, half excitement, she stepped forward.
"If you drop me, I'll come back from the dead just to scribble awful things on your bass," she warned.
"It's a risk I'm willing to take," he replied.
Instead of her climbing onto him, he surprised her. He crouched and, in a smooth motion, scooped her up bridal-style. Jinx gave a small yelp, hands flying to his shoulders. She found herself face to face with him, their faces inches apart, her blue eyes wide.
"This is structurally more stable for the launch," he explained, his monotone a ridiculous counterpoint to the intimacy of the moment.
Jinx was momentarily speechless; her heart hammered. The sensation of his strong, steady arms around her was oddly pleasant. A slow, delighted smile spread across her face as she settled into his hold.
"You sure you can handle this, Dead Fish?" she whispered — part playful doubt, part genuine thrill at being held.
Kaen turned to look at her. Piltover's pale light reflected in his eyes, but it couldn't hide the dangerous violet glow emanating from them.
"My dear number-one fan," he murmured, voice low and promising, "the show must go on."
With that, he tensed his leg muscles and prepared to defy gravity.