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Skylor flicked off the light to the dining room with a tired sigh. This time of year is always especially busy for the noodle shop. What with many of Ninjago's citizens picking up dinners to eat at home during the national day of mourning. Skylor didn't mind it. It was good business and allowed her to help people during one of the roughest nights of the year. The annual celebration of life. The national night of grief. The Day of the Departed.
All of the servers had gone home early. The cooks had finished up their last meals for the night and took off. Now all Skylor was waiting for was the bus boy to finish up in the dish pit, so she can lock up and go home.
If she's totally honest with herself, the noodle house has always felt like home in a way. She'd spent most of her formative years in these walls helping with dinner rushes, running between the booths, or sneaking bites of food from the kitchen; only able to get away with it because she was the owner's daughter. She remembered the scorned looks the manager would shoot her, only to melt with fondness late in the night as Skylor nearly fell asleep on her feet.
She missed it. Back when she was just a naive kid, oblivious to the truth of the world around her. She didn't understand what her father was doing back then. She didn't know he was exiled. She didn't have this dark shadow haunting her, clawing at her shoulders, begging for some recognition.
Skylor turned around to face the one frame on the wall that always seemed to stare right at her. She's thought about taking it down multiple times and yet never could bring herself to do it. It's not like anyone would ever notice it was gone. The regulars might, but she could easily come up with some excuse.
Because this picture is of Mr. Chen first opening the noodle house.
Her father.
She hated her father. She hated him more than anyone else. Because he used her. And he hurt her. And he loved her. What kind of person hurts their child? How can you hurt someone you love?
But most importantly, she hates herself for believing him.
It'd be so much easier if Chen had never loved her at all. If she had always known that she was just a tool for him to eventually use. If she understood that he loved her power more than he'd ever love the person.
But then she thinks of days on the island. Of warm sand on the beach. Of laughter and joy. And nights curled into his side as he carded his fingers through her hair, giving orders to his underlings in harsh whispers as she drifted.
She missed it.
She missed it so much and it hurt so deeply. Like she'd been carved down to her core where her inner-child lies buried. The one weak spot she still has for her father. From when she still viewed him through rose-colored lenses and couldn't bear taking them off.
She hated herself.
How can you miss someone you're supposed to hate? How could she miss him? Is she some kind of masochist?
Because Skylor knows if Chen were here right now, he wouldn't apologize. He wouldn't take it all back. No, he'd be worse. Because all he really wanted was power.
He didn't want her.
She stepped toward the offending frame, grabbing it by the corner. This is it. This is the night she finally takes it down and finally forgets about him. The shadow will be gone, the eyes won't watch her. He stopped being her father a long time ago, it's about time she acted like it.
And yet she just stood there, staring into the face of a smiling man who looked like he could be any other business owner. Dressed nice in a suit, hair slicked back. People would call him a loving father, maybe he was once even a dutiful husband to a mother she never knew. The outside world would never know what Mr. Chen was really like. The thought disgusted her. He doesn’t deserve any honor. He doesn’t deserve to be remembered.
So why can’t she take it down?
“Hey, boss, I’m all good back here– Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were, uh… mourning,” the busboy coughed awkwardly from the kitchen doorway, “Y– You want me to get you a candle or something? WhatamIsaying! You probably got somethin’ set up at home–”
“It’s okay, Mal,” she said without looking over at him, “That’d be really nice. Thank you.”
“Ye– Yeah! Lemme just…”
She heard him walk off and let out a deep sigh. “You don’t deserve this,” she whispered.
Mal came back, dropped the candle and lighter off and swiftly returned to the kitchen to wait for Skylor so they could lock up and walk out together.
She gingerly picked the candle up in one hand, flicking on the lighter with ease. “I'm mourning the man I thought you were,” she said pointedly as she lit the candle, “You'd still be here right now if he were real.”
She set the candle down on the table in front of the picture frame. “Happy fucking Day of the Departed.”
Elsewhere in Ninjago, there is an old man pouring two cups of tea. Now this in itself is not an odd occurrence. In fact, it is an incredibly common occurrence up the hill at the newly rebuilt monastery. So common in fact, that it is often joked within those walls that the old man has an addiction.
But this is a very special cup. The old master sat on the tallest hill he could find. The wind blew harshly around him, blowing his beard wildly and cooling his cup almost immediately. He wished it felt comforting. Wished he could greet it like an old friend. But the wind doesn’t obey anyone anymore, so there is no one to greet.
He smoothed his beard down, retrieving a small, newly framed picture, and some candles. It was an old picture, photography wasn’t that common yet when it was taken.
Morro was so, so young in it. It’d been taken shortly after Wu had taken him in, back when he was still weary of the man, yet so eager to please. Wu hadn’t realized it at the time, but his initial eagerness had been born out of the fear that Wu would throw him back to the streets if he wasn’t useful. He still chastizes himself for that, for making a child feel like he had to earn his home.
Wu had failed Morro in so many ways. If the boy were still alive, he’s not sure he’d even be able to make up for it all. He’d held the boy up to such high standards, made him believe in a destiny that wasn’t his, and ultimately drove him away.
It’s Wu’s fault Morro died.
He’d be in forties if he were alive today.
“I am sorry for making you wait so long,” he said, and it was so horribly ironic, striking a match to light the candles, “I would have put this up at the monastery, but… It would have made Lloyd uncomfortable. I would hope you’d understand.”
He shook the match out, swallowing heavily. No matter what he did tonight, Wu would feel the heavy weight of guilt on his back over it. He cannot ignore Morro’s existence any longer and yet… Morro had hurt Lloyd so terribly. He’d tortured his nephew. He cannot forgive that and yet–
And yet.
He still sees that little boy who looked up at him with such bright eyes, eyes that had been filled with newly gained hope and love and peace. The eager young boy who trained tirelessly and showed off when he could. The child who clutched at his robes after waking up from a particularly horrible nightmare.
Why? Why must his family always be at odds with each other? Whether it be he and his brother, or Lloyd and Morro, it feels as though Wu is being torn in all directions.
But the one thing Wu will consistently choose will be to love them all unconditionally.
“I brought some of your favorite pudding,” he continued, retrieving the container from his basket, “Although you're unable to enjoy it, I do hope you appreciate the gesture.” He took a spoonful and lifted it to his lips, “It doesn't taste the same without you.”
Wu sat the dish down in front of the picture frame. “You know, Lloyd also has quite the sweet tooth,” he said quietly, “Not that I'm trying to compare the two of you. I just think that… he would've loved you, had things been different.”
And that was a dangerous line of thought. Because he can see it so clearly, a world where Morro stayed. A world where he was allowed to grow up. Maybe he would've stayed with him at the monastery. Maybe he would've explored the world, searching for adventure and not a long sealed tomb. Maybe he would've helped train the new generation of masters at Wu's side.
He can't bear the thought. What could have been.
You can't dwell on the past. And he can't mourn a future that will not come.
“I wish you would have taken my hand.” Wu admitted easily. Some nights in his dreams, he sees Morro getting dragged into the depths of the ocean. He sees himself failing again.
“It would not have been easy, but I think there was a path for you. One that led back to the light, had you accepted it.”
But Morro did not want to be saved. And Wu will have to accept that one day. Even so, he can't help but think of that last act of good Morro had done. Pressing the Realm Crystal into Wu’s own wrinkled hand to make sure the Preeminent never escapes the Departed Realm again. He'd warned Wu of Master Yang's plans for Cole. That has to mean something.
Or… Wu is just a tired old man, latching on to what little hope there is left in that boy.
“There is not a day that goes by that I do not miss you,” he picked up his teacup. He once called Morro his biggest regret, but that was so very untrue. He'd never regret taking him in, training him, growing to love him. No, the only thing he'll ever regret was leading Morro astray. “I don't speak it often and for that, I am sorry, my son.” He took a sip. The tea was bitter.
He packed up the food and teapot, but had yet to retrieve the candles and picture. There was one last thing he wanted to do.
“I was never as good at this as you were,” he said, picking up the old kite, “Of course, you always had the wind on your side. Maybe it shall be on mine tonight.”
This was the reason he picked this spot. He cast the kite out, hoping that it would catch the wind and sail as it once had in the hands of a young boy he had once held so dearly.
And just as it began to fall back to the earth, the wind lifted it high into the air. It cut through the sky as clean and graceful as a fish in a stream.
Wu leaned back, a tear rolling down his cheek as he said goodbye to an old friend.
Lloyd looked down at the memorial with a furrowed brow. The steps in front of him were littered with flowers and candles. Jade Palace was still in ruins. There was no telling if it would ever get rebuilt. All in remembrance of the deceased Royal family.
Except for one…
People would rather forget the Jade Princess. Lloyd included.
She doesn't deserve a memorial. Not after everything she'd done to him– to Ninjago. And if there were a memorial, he knows it'd get vandalized almost as soon as it was put up. If there were a grave, it'd be unmarked. But as it stands, they haven't even found her body yet.
So why does he feel so bad about it?
They say you never forget your first love and… First Master, he hopes that's not true. Because none of that love was real. It was just a crush that got used and manipulated against him. Tricked his heart into thinking there was something more there.
Well, it worked. Now his heart won't let go.
He never should've gone after Harumi. He should've alerted the others about her disappearance and searched for her as a team. Then there'd be no running through the streets together, and laughter, and learning more about each other. At least, he thought he was learning about her. None of it was real. It was never real.
Why couldn't it be real?
Why couldn't she just be a dumb kid like him?
Because with Harumi, he thought they’d shed the responsibilities. The titles. There was no Green Ninja and there was no Jade Princess. Just Lloyd and Rumi.
Except, he's not a child anymore. He hasn't been in a long time. And he's got the greatest responsibilities in the realm. He's the Green Ninja. He's got a destiny to follow and a legacy to uphold. He doesn’t get to shed the role. He doesn't get a normal life.
And she… hated him.
Because of him, she lost both of her parents, was thrown into a life she didn't want, and then died. Loathe as he is to admit it, but… he feels terrible for her. Despite the fact that she doesn't deserve it. They still haven't found her body.
It's all his fault.
None of this would have ever happened if he hadn't freed the Serpentine. They could have lived their lives and never met each other and so many people would still be alive today.
It keeps him up at night, wondering how many people have died because of him. How many people were mourning tonight because he was a stupid child. A child who wanted to be loved so badly.
Sometimes he wishes he'd never been born. How would destiny have played out then? Would Kai be the green ninja? Morro? Would his father still be dead? Would everything have played out better? How many people would still be alive if Lloyd Garmadon didn't exist?
He squeezed his eyes shut, letting a breath out through his teeth. There's no point in answering what-ifs when they're never going to happen.
He stepped up to the memorial, the candlelight blurring in his eyes.
Did she suffer? It's not the first time he's asked that, and he has no way of knowing, but… he hopes she didn't. Even though she'd want him to die as long and painfully as possible. He hopes it was instant. His dad died instantly, though he went straight to the Cursed realm. It's different.
He just… really wants her to have died instantly. He doesn't want to think of how scared she might’ve been. How long could she have laid, pinned under rubble, before finally succumbing to her injuries. He doesn't even want her to have the time to regret her actions, because he doesn't want to imagine her crying, begging for someone to help her when no one could.
He's… probably not going to sleep tonight.
But it won’t be his first sleepless night. Not after what happened with Morro. Not after losing his father. Losing Zane.
Not after taking the Tomorrow’s Tea. Not after throwing his childhood away. Not after accepting the greatest responsibility in the realm.
He knelt down on the steps, placing a single white lily for a princess who didn’t deserve it.
“You had every reason to hate me,” he whispered to the air, “But it's no excuse for the things you did.”
And one day, Lloyd’s heart will accept that as the truth. That Harumi was still her own person who made her own choices.
She made her bed, she dug her own grave. Now she’s, metaphorically, laying in it.
His head knows that’s not easy to accept.
Because the Rumi in his heart is... different. She's everything he can’t have, all rolled into one idea. Loving parents. A full childhood. Peace. Freedom.
She's everything he’s ever wanted.
Everything he stole from her.
“I’m sure it means nothing to you, but… I’m sorry. I'm so... so sorry.” He felt so stupid, standing there. Talking to a soul who wouldn’t want to listen. Someone who didn’t deserve an ounce of pity. Neither of them did.
But he’s worked so hard. Everything he’s done since he’s taken up this mantle, was for the good of Ninjago. For the good of the Sixteen Realms. For everybody.
Hasn’t he done enough? Hasn’t he repented enough? When will it be enough!
Master Wu had told him about the events leading up to his father getting bitten by the Great Devourer. How they were both just children and it was Wu’s inaction that set his brother down the path of darkness. It’d always been so easy for Lloyd to forgive his uncle for it. Why can’t he just forgive himself like that?
He takes a shaky breath. He can’t break down here. Here, in front of a public memorial, while he’s dressed as one of the most prominent figures in the city. He doesn’t even know how he’d explain it if he got caught.
But there’s another part of him that just wants to curl up into a ball and sob like the child he’s supposed to be.
“Hey,”
Lloyd jumped in his skin, completely startled from the emotions that were enveloping him.
He turned to face Kai, he’s not even surprised to see him there. Kai always seemed to know when Lloyd needed him. Needed his big brother to come and make everything feel okay again.
“Rough night?” he asked simply.
“Something like that,” Lloyd answered. He swallowed the thick lump in his throat, looking down at the white flower with sudden disgust. “I shouldn’t be here…”
Kai’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, “Hey… You’re allowed to mourn her, okay?” He turned Lloyd to look at him fully. “She’s gonna get no sympathy from me, but you. Your feelings were real. You’re allowed to miss her. Me, Jay, Wu– all of us… we’ll never judge you for it. I promise.”
And maybe it's his emotions getting the best of him, or the overwhelming sense of safety Kai brings with him that causes his lip to start to tremble and his eyes to water. He steps forward, letting his brother take him into his comforting embrace.
“It’s not fair…” Lloyd sobbed, hands scrambling to hold on to the back of Kai’s gi, “I hate her…”
“I know,” Kai whispered, running his fingers through Lloyd’s hair.
“I wanna stop hurting…”
“It’s not going to. Not for a while,” Kai pulled back, cupping his cheek and wiping the tears running down it, “But you’re stronger than this. You’ve overcome so much.” And the way he said it was so genuine, Lloyd almost believed it, “I know you’ll move on from this.”
Lloyd nodded, sniffling lightly. Kai let his head fall down to his shoulder. And the two stood in silence for a while as Lloyd silently sobbed into his gi, making a mess of everything like he normally does.
“Wherever she is now, she’s at peace,” Kai sighed, looking down at the memorial, “That’s all we can hope for after all this.”
As Lloyd’s cries began to die down and his breathing began to even out, Kai pulled away, giving him a smile, “Hey, you wanna go eat some ice cream and binge watch the Fritz Donnegan movies again?”
Lloyd nodded again with a reluctant smile of his own. Because he can be selfish and, just this once, he’d like to be a kid again.