Arcane: Ekko and Powder

The following week felt different. Ekko could feel it in the way Powder interacted with him, the subtle shifts in their conversations and the way her eyes would linger on him for just a second longer than usual. It was as though something was changing between them—something neither of them could quite put into words, but both of them could feel. It was a quiet tension, the unspoken understanding that they were no longer just two kids from the Undercity playing around in the wreckage. They were something more, though neither knew exactly what that was.

Ekko found himself more aware of Powder than he ever had been before. The way she moved, the way her voice carried an edge of something deeper when she spoke. He was no longer just her best friend, the one she laughed and played with—he was something else, too. And she was beginning to see him that way, as more than just someone who fixed her gadgets or helped her escape from trouble.

The change wasn't just in him; it was in her as well. Powder, always the wild, unpredictable force of nature, had become more introspective, more thoughtful. Ekko wasn't sure what had caused it, but he suspected it had something to do with the quiet conversations they'd started having—the kind of conversations that went beyond pranks and machines, the ones where they talked about their futures, their fears, their dreams.

It was another day in the old warehouse where they had spent countless hours together. Ekko was hunched over a pile of spare parts, his mind lost in the intricacies of the project in front of him. He could feel Powder behind him, her presence a familiar comfort. But today, something was different. She wasn't her usual chaotic self—there was a quiet energy around her, a sense that she had something on her mind.

"Ekko," she said, her voice softer than usual, pulling him out of his concentration. He turned to find her standing nearby, her eyes fixed on the ground as if she was unsure whether or not to speak.

"Yeah?" Ekko replied, wiping his hands on his shirt and standing up to face her. His heart rate picked up slightly, as if sensing the shift in her mood. She wasn't the same as she had been just a few days ago.

"I've been thinking," Powder began slowly, her gaze meeting his for a fleeting moment before dropping back to the floor. "I've been thinking about… what I want. What I really want."

Ekko's brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "What do you mean?"

She hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "I know we've always been about surviving, right? Just getting by, taking whatever we can from this messed-up city… but I don't know anymore. I don't want to just survive, Ekko. I want to do something. I want to be something. I want to be more than just… this." She gestured vaguely around the warehouse, as if the walls themselves represented everything she had been up until this point. "I want to make a difference. I want to be someone people look up to."

Ekko was silent for a moment, his gaze softened by the vulnerability in her words. This was something new—something deeper than the playful bravado she usually put on. He had always known that Powder had bigger dreams than she let on, but hearing her speak them aloud, especially with so much sincerity, made his heart ache in a way he wasn't quite prepared for.

"You've always had big dreams, Powder," he said softly, taking a step closer to her. "But what exactly are you saying? You want to be a hero?"

Powder's eyes flicked up to meet his, and for the briefest second, he saw the familiar glint of her old mischievousness, but it quickly faded into something more serious. "Yeah," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "I want to be like one of those heroes in the stories—the ones who save the day, who fight for something bigger than themselves. I don't know… I just want to do something that matters."

Ekko stared at her, his mind spinning with the implications of her words. He had always admired Powder's courage, her boldness, but hearing her express this desire to be something more than just the kid with the wild ideas and impulsive plans struck him deeply. He had never thought about it that way—about how she might feel like she had to be more than just herself, more than just the girl from the Undercity.

"You already matter, Powder," Ekko said quietly, his voice full of sincerity. "You've always mattered to me."

Her eyes widened slightly at his words, and for a moment, she seemed to be caught off guard. Powder wasn't used to hearing such genuine emotion from him, not the kind that wasn't wrapped up in teasing or friendly banter. She stood there for a moment, processing what he had said, her lips slightly parted as if trying to find the right words.

"I don't feel like I do," she admitted after a long pause, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sometimes, I feel like I'm just… just making noise. I don't know if I'll ever be anything more than a kid with crazy ideas." She shook her head as if trying to shake the thoughts away, but Ekko could see the doubt in her eyes, the fear that she would never be able to live up to the dreams she had for herself.

Ekko felt a pang of frustration. It was hard for him to watch her struggle with this, especially when he knew how much potential she had. Powder was capable of so much more than she realized, but she always seemed to downplay her strengths. It was as if she was afraid that if she let herself believe in her own greatness, it would only make the fall harder.

"You are more than that," Ekko said firmly, his voice low but full of conviction. "You're stronger than you think. Smarter than you give yourself credit for. You can do anything you set your mind to, Powder. You just have to believe it."

Powder's gaze softened as she took a deep breath, clearly processing his words. For the first time, she seemed to be seeing herself the way Ekko saw her—not as a reckless, impulsive kid, but as someone capable of achieving great things. And as Ekko watched her, something shifted inside him, something deep and undeniable. It wasn't just the admiration he had always felt for her—it was something else, something more personal.

Ekko didn't say it aloud, but in that moment, he realized just how deeply he cared for her, how much her hopes and dreams meant to him. It wasn't just about being there for her when things went wrong or helping her with her inventions. It was about wanting her to succeed, wanting her to realize her own worth. He wanted to see her shine, even if it meant that one day, she might leave him behind to chase her dreams.

But that was something he would never tell her. Not yet, anyway.

"Thanks, Ekko," Powder said quietly, a small but genuine smile tugging at her lips. She reached out and gently placed her hand on his arm. "I guess I needed to hear that."

Ekko's heart skipped a beat at her touch, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. But as soon as the moment passed, he quickly turned back to his workbench, trying to brush off the feelings that had stirred inside him. This wasn't the time for that—this was about her, not about him.

"Anytime, Powder," he said gruffly, picking up a tool and fiddling with it to mask his nerves. "You can always count on me."

And Powder, looking more at ease than she had in days, finally seemed to believe it.

Over the next few weeks, Ekko noticed subtle but important changes in Powder. She was opening up more—not just about her dreams, but about her fears, her doubts, and the things she had kept hidden for so long. It was as if a new side of her was emerging, one that Ekko had never seen before, and it made him both proud and terrified.

They spent their days working on new projects together, but now their conversations often stretched into long, quiet talks about their futures. Powder wasn't just the unpredictable, reckless girl he had once known. She was becoming someone else—someone who still had that fire in her eyes, but who now carried it with a purpose. And Ekko couldn't help but feel a deep sense of pride as he watched her evolve.

As they spent more time together, Ekko found himself more drawn to her than ever before. The shift in their relationship was undeniable—what had once been a close friendship was now something more. But it wasn't just the romantic feelings that were starting to surface; it was the way they could talk about anything and everything, the way they could be completely vulnerable with each other.

And for the first time, Ekko realized that the future wasn't something to be afraid of. Whatever happened, they would face it together.