Arcane: Ekko and Powder

The following day, the streets of Zaun were quieter than usual. The air was thick with the smell of oil and rust, and the faint hum of machinery echoed from the factories in the distance. Ekko wandered aimlessly, his thoughts consumed by the argument he'd had with Powder. He hated the distance between them. She was his best friend—his only real friend in a world that often felt cold and unforgiving.

Eventually, he found himself standing in front of the old abandoned warehouse where they often hung out. It was a place filled with memories: of laughter, experiments, and shared dreams. But today, it felt heavy with unspoken tension.

To his surprise, Powder was already there. She sat cross-legged on the floor, tinkering with a small gadget. Her expression was focused, but there was a shadow of sadness in her eyes.

"Hey," Ekko said softly, stepping inside.

Powder looked up, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Hey."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was heavy, but Ekko wasn't sure how to break it. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, "I'm sorry."

Powder's hands stilled, and she looked up at him, surprised. "For what?"

"For yesterday," Ekko said, stepping closer. "For the things I said. I didn't mean to make you feel like I don't trust you or believe in you."

Powder's gaze dropped to the floor. "You weren't wrong, though," she said quietly. "I am reckless sometimes."

Ekko frowned, his chest tightening at the sadness in her voice. He knelt down in front of her, trying to catch her eye. "Powder, I didn't mean to hurt you. I just—" He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I just worry about you because I care. A lot."

Powder let out a shaky laugh, finally meeting his gaze. "You care too much, you know that?"

"Maybe," Ekko admitted with a small smile. "But that's not gonna change."

For a while, they sat in silence, the tension slowly giving way to something softer. Powder picked up her gadget again, turning it over in her hands.

"Do you ever feel like…" she began, then trailed off.

"Feel like what?" Ekko prompted gently.

Powder hesitated, her fingers fiddling with a loose wire. "Like you're not good enough. Like no matter what you do, it's never enough to prove you're worth something."

Ekko blinked, caught off guard by the vulnerability in her voice. Powder had always been the one full of energy, the one who acted like nothing could touch her. Seeing her like this—uncertain, fragile—was like seeing a completely different side of her.

"All the time," he admitted.

Powder looked up at him, surprised. "You? But you're so… smart. You're always inventing stuff, making things better. Everyone respects you."

Ekko let out a dry laugh. "That doesn't mean I don't have doubts. Every time I start a new project, there's this little voice in my head that says I'm gonna fail. That nothing I do will ever make a difference."

Powder studied him for a moment, her expression softening. "I didn't know you felt like that."

"Yeah, well," Ekko said with a shrug, "I guess I'm good at hiding it."

Powder nodded slowly, her gaze dropping back to her gadget. "I feel like that all the time. Especially around Vi and the others. They're so strong, so brave. And me? I'm just… me. The one who screws up all the time."

"Hey," Ekko said firmly, reaching out to touch her arm. "You're not just anything, Powder. You're smart, creative, and one of the bravest people I know."

Powder's lips trembled, and she quickly looked away, blinking back tears. "You don't mean that."

"I do," Ekko said, his voice steady. "You're not perfect, but who is? You're trying your best, and that's more than enough."

Powder sniffled, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "You're just saying that because you're my friend."

"I'm saying it because it's true," Ekko said.

Powder finally set the gadget aside, hugging her knees to her chest. "Sometimes I feel like I'll never be enough for them. For Vi, for you… for anyone."

Ekko's heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice. He shifted closer, his hand resting on her shoulder. "Powder, you don't have to prove anything to anyone. Not to me, not to Vi, not to anybody else. You're already enough, just as you are."

Powder looked at him, her blue eyes wide and filled with emotion. "How do you always know what to say?"

"I don't," Ekko admitted with a small smile. "I'm just being honest."

Powder let out a shaky laugh, a tear slipping down her cheek. "You're too good to me, you know that?"

"Not possible," Ekko said, grinning.

For a moment, they just sat there, the weight of their shared emotions settling between them. Then, without thinking, Powder leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Ekko in a tight hug.

Ekko froze for half a second before hugging her back, his arms encircling her smaller frame. She felt fragile in his embrace, like she might break if he held on too tightly. But she also felt real, solid, and so important to him that it almost hurt.

"Thank you," Powder murmured, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

"For what?" Ekko asked, his voice soft.

"For being you," she said.

They stayed like that for a while, neither of them in a hurry to pull away. For Ekko, it felt like the most natural thing in the world, holding Powder close and reminding her that she wasn't alone.

When they finally did let go, Powder gave him a small, hesitant smile. It wasn't her usual mischievous grin, but it was warm and genuine.

"You're a good friend, Ekko," she said.

"So are you," he replied.

As they packed up their things and left the warehouse, Ekko couldn't help but feel like something had shifted between them. It wasn't something he could put into words, but it was there—a quiet understanding, a deeper connection.

And for the first time in a long time, he felt like they were truly in sync.