Arcane: Ekko and Powder

The day started innocently enough. Ekko had been tinkering with an old clockwork device, trying to repurpose its gears for a new project. Powder had shown up mid-morning, her hair slightly disheveled and her hands smudged with soot, which wasn't unusual. What was unusual was her manic energy—more intense than usual.

"I've got something to show you!" she exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Ekko looked up from his workbench, raising an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What is it this time?"

Powder grinned, pulling a bundle from her satchel. She carefully unwrapped it, revealing a peculiar contraption—a mishmash of wires, pipes, and what looked like parts of an old grenade.

Ekko's eyes widened. "Powder, what is that?"

"It's a surprise!" she said, her grin widening. "I've been working on it for weeks. I call it the Boom Bunny!"

"Boom Bunny?" Ekko echoed, skepticism creeping into his voice.

"Yeah! Watch this." Powder placed the device on the ground and pressed a button on its side. The contraption whirred to life, its mechanical legs twitching as it sprang forward in a series of awkward hops. Powder clapped her hands in delight, clearly proud of her creation.

Ekko couldn't deny it was impressive—creative, even. But the sharp, acrid smell of gunpowder and the ominous clicking sounds the device made as it moved set him on edge.

"Powder, does this thing… explode?" he asked cautiously.

"Well, yeah," she admitted with a shrug. "But only when I want it to."

Ekko's stomach twisted. "And what if something goes wrong? What if it blows up when you don't want it to?"

Powder frowned, her excitement dimming. "It won't. I tested it. It's perfectly safe."

"Safe?" Ekko repeated, standing up. "Powder, that thing is a walking bomb! What if it misfires? Or worse, what if someone gets hurt?"

"Nobody's going to get hurt, Ekko!" Powder snapped, her tone defensive. "I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" he shot back, his frustration boiling over. "Because this isn't the first time you've made something dangerous without thinking it through. What happens when it's not just us messing around? What happens when someone else pays the price for your recklessness?"

Powder's eyes widened, hurt flashing across her face before it was replaced by anger. "You think I'm reckless?"

Ekko hesitated but didn't back down. "Yeah, sometimes I do. You don't think about the risks, Powder. You just charge ahead without a plan, and it scares me."

"I can take care of myself!" Powder said, her voice rising. "I'm not a little kid anymore, Ekko. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Ekko asked again, his voice softer but no less firm. "Because all I see is you putting yourself in danger over and over, and I can't just stand by and watch that happen."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't be watching then," Powder snapped.

The words hit Ekko like a punch to the gut. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension thick between them.

Powder broke the silence first, crossing her arms and turning away. "You're always like this," she muttered. "Always so cautious, so scared of taking risks. Maybe if you stepped out of your little workshop once in a while, you'd see that sometimes you have to take risks to get anywhere."

Ekko bristled. "And maybe if you stopped for five seconds to think about the consequences, you'd realize that not every risk is worth taking."

"Oh, so now I'm just some reckless idiot, is that it?" Powder shot back, her voice trembling.

"I didn't say that," Ekko said quickly, his frustration giving way to guilt. "Powder, I'm not trying to insult you. I just… I worry about you, okay? You're my best friend, and I don't want to lose you because of some crazy stunt."

Powder turned back to him, her blue eyes shining with unshed tears. "I don't need you to protect me, Ekko. I'm not helpless."

"I know you're not," Ekko said, his voice softening. "But caring about someone means looking out for them, even when they don't think they need it."

Powder shook her head, her expression hardening. "Maybe you care too much. Maybe you should just let me live my life the way I want to."

Ekko's heart sank. He opened his mouth to respond but couldn't find the right words.

The rest of the day was tense. Powder stayed for a while, working on her gadgets in silence, but the easy camaraderie they usually shared was gone. Ekko tried to focus on his own work, but his mind kept drifting back to their argument.

By the time Powder left, the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the workshop.

"See you later," she said stiffly, not meeting his eyes.

"Yeah," Ekko replied, his voice hollow.

As she disappeared into the twilight, Ekko leaned against his workbench, running a hand through his hair. He knew they'd argue eventually—spending so much time together made it inevitable—but this felt different.

He wasn't sure how to fix it, or even if he could.

Later that night, Ekko found himself lying awake, staring at the ceiling of his tiny room. His mind replayed their argument over and over, each word cutting deeper than the last. He thought about Powder's fiery spirit, her determination, and her reckless energy. It was part of what made her who she was, and he admired her for it.

But it also terrified him.

Zaun wasn't a forgiving place. People who took too many risks didn't last long, and Ekko couldn't bear the thought of Powder being one of them.

He sighed, closing his eyes. "I just want to keep her safe," he whispered to himself.

But maybe, he thought, safety wasn't what Powder wanted. Maybe what she needed was someone who believed in her, even when she was reckless.

It wasn't a comforting thought, but it was an honest one. And Ekko had always prided himself on being honest.

Tomorrow, he decided, he'd try to make things right.