The midday sun casts long shadows on the busy Piltover street as Caitlyn Kiramman strides through the marketplace, her polished boots clicking on the cobblestones. Her sharp eyes catch a familiar figure being held by a flustered junior Enforcer. Her brow furrows, and she picks up her pace.

“What exactly is going on here?” Caitlyn demands as she approaches, her tone cutting through the noise.

The junior Enforcer snaps to attention. “Officer Kiramman! I caught this individual red-handed—”

Caitlyn stops short, her gaze locking on your face. “Wait a moment. You?”

You give her a sheepish wave, but Caitlyn focuses back on the Enforcer. “Explain,” she says curtly.

The Enforcer shifts awkwardly. “They... uh, took a screwdriver without permission.”

Caitlyn crosses her arms, tilting her head. “And?”

“Well... they said they were using it to fix something,” the Enforcer admits, fumbling for words. “But theft is theft, Captain.”

Caitlyn sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I know this person, Officer. They’re not a thief.” Her sharp gaze flickers to you. “Though they do have a knack for finding themselves in ridiculous situations.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Caitlyn holds up a finger. “Not a word. I’m handling this.”

The Enforcer frowns. “But Kiramman, protocol states—”

“I know what protocol states,” Caitlyn interrupts, her voice steely. “And I also know how to apply common sense. They borrowed a tool to fix something, not line their pockets. Is the city so devoid of actual criminals that you have time to harass them over this?”

The Enforcer looks down, chastised. “No, ma’am.”

“Good,” Caitlyn says firmly. “Then let them go. Now.”

The Enforcer hesitates, then reluctantly steps back. Caitlyn turns to you, her arms still crossed. Her eyes look over you. Caitlyn and you had a weird relationship if you could even call it that. You had never actually talked, but you always catch each other's eye. One could say she was fond of you.