Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

When was the last time I felt at peace?

It’s strange, I can't really remember.

I’ve been filled with rage and hate for so long, my memories blur together. That’s what happens when you get older, it's just one endless smear of everything at once.

Maybe it was that night I drifted off beside the quiet crackle of a fire. I was meant to meditate, to be as motionless as the flame but flames never truly stand still, always dancing and writhing as air stirs them, pulling them in directions they never chose. My father, if I can still call him that after all the shit I put him through, left me with only the soft voices of embers and a burden far too heavy for a child’s shoulders. I must have dozed off. I remember the warmth. Maybe that was peace. Maybe that was the last time.

I was so small back then. If my younger self saw me now, I think he’d flinch away, frightened by what I’ve become. I’m afraid of what I have become.

Back then, I was just another stray on the street; skin stretched over bones, wild-eyed and starving for anything. A crumb. A look. A reason to exist. Not much has changed: I’m still a soul searching for itself.

I can’t even remember how we met or how he convinced me to follow him. It was so long ago.

He taught me how to read. How to write. How to eat like a person, not a starving animal. How to breathe. How to hold a weapon. When to strike, when not to.

How to be a ninja.

But, never a child.

Never that. I wonder if her ever remembers what that is, being a child. Or maybe maybe the world stole it from him too.

‘Do not cry because the world will not pity you Morro, I am cruel because the world will be crueler. I assume you already know, |||||||.’ He would say, like it for my mercy. Maybe it was.

And I believed him.

To all the prayers of the first Spinjitzu Master, I believed him.

I believed that if I tried hard enough, trained long enough, I proved myself again and again. He would see me. The hours I trained until my hands split and bled. When my body ached so bad, I’d cry but only when I was sure he wasn’t looking at me. My tears were blending in with the sweat anyway so even if he did, he couldn’t tell.

I did all that for what?

Why did I want to prove myself so badly? its embarrassing looking back on it now. How desperate I was. How fragile. Why did I break when he said I wasn’t ready? Why was I so angry? Why, why, why!? Deep down, hidden behind my facade, I knew I wasn’t either. But, he made me think I was. He thought destiny was going to choose me, I thought he was going to choose me.

He didn’t. Not then, not after. Not when I ran off to prove a worth that meant nothing to me.

I hated him. I hated destiny, I hated myself for not doing enough, not being better. Fuck destiny.

“I AM THE GREEN NINJA! YOU MADE ME BELIEVE!”

I told myself I didn’t care, that I didn’t need him. That I would take what was mine, I’ll fucking make him see me.

What a great idea that was.

What a wonderful idea Morro!

Possess a body, beat up the ‘ninjas’, steal the realm crystal, rip open the veil between the living and the dead, get beat up by the girl. Die again. Awesome. Best plan ever Morro.

I should win the fang-blade for this award winning plan.

Does he see me now? Does he see the ghost of the boy he once barely raised?

I’m reminded of where I’m standing. What led me to this exact moment, why this all began. The eerie mist of Stixx pricks at my transparent skin, the moon barely peeking through what I think might be clouds but I’m pretty sure it’s pollution.

The preeminent is screaming as she dies for the first time. She’s taking everyone with her.

I’m standing in front of HIM again, and his little rip-off of the so -called ninja squad.

His hand reached out for me, just as he did the first time he found me.

“Morro!”

My gaze jerks up to meet his, just like it did all those years ago. Why does he look at me that way?

“Take my hand!”

“Why? So you can take the realm crystal and use it to find a new prized pupil?!” I shouted over her screams. Her tendrils slowly curl around my waist.

His eyes flashed with hurt. He never looked at me like that before.

“You are all my prized pupils, but none of us can do this alone. You’re strong, Morro, but it takes others to make us stronger. Even me. Take my hand, So we can be stronger together. Please, ||||||!” My throat tightened, it's been a long time.

I hesitate. Then, just as I did all those years ago, I reach for his hand. I try to pull myself up—I want to live with him again. But her grip tightens around my waist. The water is already at my feet; there’s nothing left I can do.
“You can’t save me, Wu. You couldn’t save me before, and you can’t save me now. You can only save those who want to be saved.”
I press the crystal into his palm, replacing my hand with it. My fingers slip through his, and I let go.

It’s strange, I haven’t been human in so long, and yet when she drags me under, the instinct to fight back still stirs. I know I can’t escape. The water, meant to be cold, burns against my translucent skin. I claw toward the surface anyway, reaching for the faint light above; father’s dragon, and his blurred silhouette. The pain is the same as it was the day I left him.
Why did he let me go?

When I open my eyes again, someone is diving in—reaching for me. Of course he can’t resist trying to be a hero, even at the very last second. I’m too weak to tell who it is, but he drags me to the surface and pulls me onto land.

Calls my name, maybe—but his voice is distant, lost beneath the roar in my ears.

“Breathe!! Breathe!! I'm here!”

“!!! .. Can you…. Come on… one more time… !!”

Water bursts from my lungs, and I choke on the air that rushes in to replace it. Someone pushes me onto my side; my chest heaves, desperate for oxygen.

When I finally open my eyes, I’m face to face with someone I’ve never seen before—spiky blond hair, metal pieces embedded in his skin. His hands cradle my face like I’m something fragile.

He looks worried. I don’t even know who the hell he is.

Why is he touching me?

“Nya?”

Who…?

A voice that isn’t my own, responds.

“Eughh Kuh—ka.. ::Kai?::”

Chapter Text

I still remember the exact moment I was accepted into NATU.

I was sitting on the floor of my room with my laptop, chewing on the end of a cheap pen, pretending to study biomechanics of marine life despite knowing it so well while refreshing my email every ten seconds like the lunatic I am.

When THE email shows up. I just stare at it. Every moment I have ever made, since primary school had led me up to this very moment. I’m afraid to open it, what if everything I did wasn’t enough. What if I didn’t get in? I don't have a backup university. It’s an acceptance letter, I’m sure of it. NATU has no reason to reject me. Yet, a small ounce of doubt lingers in my hand, as the mouse hovers over the email link. 

I take a deep breath and brace for success. Click.

‘NINJAGO ARTS AND TECH UNIVERSITY
Office of Admissions
Ninjago City, Ninjago

Dear Nya Smith,

Congratulations! On behalf of the Admissions Committee, it is our pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted into Ninjago Arts and Tech University (NATU) for the Fall 20XX semester.

Your application demonstrated exceptional creativity, technical skill, and resilience qualities that embody the spirit of NATU’s students. We were particularly impressed by your work in mechanical systems and your commitment to innovation that bridges both marine biology and science.

As a member of the incoming Serpentine Class, you will join a diverse community of scholars, creators, and innovators dedicated to shaping Ninjago’s future. At NATU, collaboration thrives at the intersection of imagination and technology. Whether in our advanced robotics labs, design studios, or creative spaces, you will have the opportunity to explore, experiment, and excel.

To confirm your enrollment, please log into the Student Portal by June 1st to submit your acceptance and housing preferences. Orientation Week begins August 25th, with residence halls opening two days prior. Your student ID and welcome packet will arrive by mail shortly after confirmation.

We look forward to welcoming you to campus, where your journey as a NATU Serpent begins.

Warm regards,
Dr. Z. Julian
Director of Admissions
Ninjago Arts and Tech University’

My mind blanked as I read it, I couldn’t believe it, I mean I knew I would get in but still. It felt like I suddenly forgot how to read. I blinked once. Twice. Then I screamed.

Kai bursts through my door, one hand with a lighter and the other with bug spray, “WHERE IS THE SPIDER—!” 

He looks around the room, before finally focusing on me. When I told him, I got accepted, and he dropped the lighter and the spray immediately.

“I fucking knew you would!” Kai shouted, tackling me into a hug. “I’m so proud of you Nya!”

Kai insisted on printing the acceptance letter and hanging it in my room. Next to the rest of my acceptance letters I had gotten when I was younger, through various programs. I was embarrassed, but Kai just grinned and reminded me why he makes me do this.

“You earned every single one of these, Nya. And I want you to see it when you wake up. Remind yourself how far you’ve come.” He said. I felt my throat tighten a bit, kai is always right.

When our parents weren't around, Kai was the only one to step up. People in our neighborhood only saw him as reckless, impulsive and hot-headed and yeah sure, he's all those things. But they never saw the kid who would wake me up early, and cook decent meals, who stayed up at the kitchen table learning how to take care of me when our mom and dad stopped coming home. And they didn’t see how he filled both roles we were missing, he was a parent who comforted me, when I cried. And the one who yelled at me to toughen up 5 minutes later.

Kai got accepted to NATU two years before me, I think part of him didn’t really want to go. Not because he didn’t deserve it ,  he worked his ass off,  but because he didn’t want to leave me behind. He’d already been taking care of me for so long that being apart felt wrong.

The university must’ve seen that too, because they gave him permission to keep living off-campus with me until I was old enough to manage on my own. He joked about it being “temporary custody,” but I knew what it really meant,  he wasn’t going to let me face things alone.

And now, I've finally gotten in. We were going to be on the same campus,  me starting fresh, him already halfway through.

“You realize this means you can’t act like my guardian anymore, right?” I teased as he hung the printed letter on my wall with scotch tape.

He gave me a look,  that mock-offended big-brother glare. “What do you mean? You think just ‘cause we go to the same school I’m not allowed to make sure you eat breakfast?”

“I’m serious, Kai,” I said, trying not to laugh. “I’m an adult now. I’ll have my own dorm, my own schedule—”

“Uh-huh.” He pointed the roll of tape at me like it was a weapon. “And I’ll have my own eyes on campus. Don’t think I won’t know if you skip meals or pull all-nighters.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help smiling. Because under all that teasing, I knew the truth,  Kai had never just been my brother. He’d been my anchor, my safe place, the closest thing I’d ever had to a parent.

And if i’m being honest, kai has changed a lot since he had gotten into NATU. 

He’s got his hair bleached blonde, a silver hoop through his nose, and an ear full of mismatched piercings like he’s collecting them for sport. I’m pretty sure at least one of them was the result of a dare, probably something along the lines of “bet you won’t” and, of course, Kai never backs down from those.

His wardrobe’s gone through an evolution too, from hoodies and cargo pants to what I can only describe as a thrift-store apocalypse. Ripped black jeans, oversized band tees with faded logos, jackets with way too many zippers, and more leather than anyone not in a motorcycle gang should legally own. Sometimes I look at him and think, you could probably start a band or a riot, and I’m not sure which would happen first.

He’s kind of punk now. Confidence. Loud. Girls like it.

And he knows they like it.

He’s got this grin, all teeth and heat, the kind that makes people lean closer without realizing it. He flirts without trying, brings girls back to his dorm like it’s nothing, then acts all casual the next morning, hair a mess, grinning as if he didn’t just spend the night with someone who was practically worshipping him hours before.

Sometimes, I catch myself wondering if this is just a phase, if underneath all the noise and confidence, the Kai I grew up with is still in there somewhere. The one who stayed up late fixing the old heater because I couldn’t sleep in the cold, who walked me to school every day until I told him to stop because it was “uncool.”

He still does small things that remind me. He’ll come by my dorm from a party smelling like bonfire smoke, sweat, and expensive perfume, but he’ll toss me his leftover takeout like it’s an unspoken ritual. “Didn’t finish it,” he’ll say, already halfway out the door. But he knows I’ll eat it. He knows I’ve probably been too busy studying to remember dinner.

Sometimes, he drags me to those parties, throwing an arm around my shoulder like I’m his favorite little sister-slash-wingman. Other times, he tells me not to come. “You’re too smart for that crowd, Nya,” he says, and I never know whether that’s a compliment or an excuse.

Maybe both.

I’m proud of him, really, I am. He’s built this new version of himself out of confidence and chaos, and people love him for it. But sometimes, when I see him laughing with strangers under the glow of campus lights, I can’t help but miss the old version of who he used to be.

I didn’t even want to go to the damn bonfire party. But Kai wouldn’t shut up about it for days.

“Just come,” he begged, hanging off the back of my desk chair like a child. “You never go out. It’s by the lake. Cool people, free food, music, fire. Nya, F-I-R-E. Come on, you love fire.”

That’s true, I do love fire. But it’s not enough to convince me. “Is this one of those parties where people get drunk and jump in the water?” I asked.

His grin was all teeth and mischief. “Obviously.”

“Hard pass.”

Then he played the sibling guilt card. Told me he’d already promised his friends I’d show up. Said I needed to “socialize like a normal human being” and “Stop acting like Skylor and Pixal is the only person allowed to drag me out of the apartment.” He even offered to stay sober for the night. Which, coming from Kai, was basically sainthood.

So… I gave in. Here I am, perched on a giant, slightly damp log, a warm cup of water in my hands, surrounded by too many people, too much laughter, and the faintly burnt smell of marshmallows mixing with lake water. The bonfire flames crackle in the center of a wide clearing, sparks drifting up into the sky like tiny, impatient fire spirits. Kai’s somewhere in the chaos, probably halfway to crowd-surfing or convincing someone to jump in the lake. Every now and then, his voice cuts through the noise.

In my gut, I could tell. Kai definitely broke his promise. ‘Stay sober’ my ass. 

“Shit! How the hell did Kai manage to drag you here?” A familiar voice laughed.

Skylor Chen.

I’m pretty sure she’s in the Mafia. Her dad, Chen, owned this dingy noodle shop downtown called ‘The Tournament’, the place was a front. Obviously. Everyone knew. Five stars but barely any customers go. But then a year ago, he died of natural causes; heart attack, if the rumors are true,Skylor stepped up. But instead of doubling down on shady deals and back-alley threats, she flipped the whole thing on its head. She turned the operation into something that actually helps people. Offers protection to struggling families. Pays off medical bills. Keeps a bunch of street kids out of gangs and puts them in night school or trade work. And she still calls it the Chen Syndicate

A lot of people whispered that she bought her way in. Said she bribed the admissions board or blackmailed the right people. I don’t believe that. Not even for a second.

Skylor’s smart. Ridiculously smart. Business, strategy, logistics—you name it, she’s already five steps ahead of you. If anything, she probably got in on leadership credits alone. She runs an empire under the table and still shows up to class on time with her notes color-coded.

She’s in my chem lab, actually. Says she likes it because it reminds her of cooking. 

“Kai, promised me he would stay sober.” I muttered, bumping my fist against Skylor’s fist as she came to stand beside me. The firelight caught the sharp angles of her face, flickering across her cheekbones like she’d been carved out of ember and intent. 

She snorted a short, incredulous sound. “And you believed him?” She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow that said really, Nya? “I love your brother, but his self control… is not that great.”

“I know.” 

She stands next to me, we sit in the quiet crackles of the fire in front of us. Before skylor gets bored.

“Come on, Nya. You have to dance at least once.” Her hand is held out to me. “You might just, if you sit there brooding all night. Come on. Don’t make me drag you.”

This is such a stupid idea, but I put my cup down, sighed, and took Skylor’s hand anyway. Just for a song. Maybe two. I hope my water will still be there when and if i come back. 

The dock creaked under the weight of way too many people, but no one seemed to care. Music thumped from a speaker someone had dragged out here, and the firelight flickered across the lake like it was dancing, too.

Skylor twirled in front of me, hips swaying to the beat, eyes glinting in that confident, don’t-care-who’s-watching way she had. She made it look easy effortless. And I… was doing my best not to trip over the edge of the dock or accidentally get elbowed by the guy thrashing two feet away like he’d never heard rhythm in his life.

Glancing over my shoulder as another drunk sophomore stumbled past, nearly shoulder-checking me.

People kept bumping into me. Shoulders, arms, hips, the occasional drink sloshed dangerously close to my shoes. The dock was too narrow, the crowd too loud. The heat from the bonfire didn’t reach this far, but I was sweating anyway.

Still, Skylor laughed, bright and unfiltered, and it made something in my chest loosen. Just a little.

Then someone slammed into me from behind, hard. I staggered, my foot slipping between the planks for a terrifying fraction of a second before Skylor grabbed my shoulders, yanking me back.

“Asshole,” I hissed under my breath as the guy vanished into the crowd.

“Come on.” Skylor tugged me toward the far end of the dock. It was less crowded, technically, but not by much. People here had the same nonexistent understanding of personal space. 

I was starting to feel lightheaded, but maybe that was just the crowd. The heat. The bass rumbling through my ribs like a second heartbeat. For a split second, barely even that, I felt something brush my ankle. From beneath the dock.

I jerked away from the edge, heart slamming up into my throat.

“What?” Skylor blinked at me. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said too quickly.

Skylor stared at me, frowning slightly, but didn’t press. The music kept pulsing. Someone shouted “chug! chug! chug!” from somewhere back on land. 

I shook it off.

I forced myself to breathe.

Just the crowd.

Just my imagination.

Still, my eyes drifted back to the lake’s edge.
And for a moment…

I swear—something moved beneath the surface. A ripple that didn’t match the others. Too deliberate. Too close.
Before I could focus on it, everything happened at once.

Skylor’s laugh was warm beside me, her fingers catching mine as she tried to pull me back into the rhythm, her hair glowing in the dock lights like copper fire—and then two drunk guys collided with us, tripping over each other, sloshing their drinks everywhere.

“MOVE!” one of them barked, not even looking.

The other lurched sideways—and crashed into me.

My balance vanished.

My stomach dropped.

A sharp gasp tore from my throat.

And then—I was falling.

Skylor’s hand shot out, but she wasn’t fast enough.

I plunged straight off the dock.

The water hit like a wall.

Cold.

 All-encompassing.

 Suffocating.

It swallowed the music. The laughter. The firelight.

The dock vanished above me, replaced by darkness and the violent splash echoing in my ears.

I panicked.

I kicked hard, tried to claw my way up.

 But which way was up?

Water filled my nose, burning like acid. My lungs screamed. I opened my mouth—stupidly, instinctively—and lake water flooded in.

I didn’t know how to swim.

I never learned.

My limbs thrashed uselessly. Denim dragged at my legs. The lack of air  pulled me down. Fear wrapped itself around my ribs like chains.
Above—blurry lights wavered.

Bubbles escaped my lips, drifting upward— so at least now I knew where to go, but my body felt too heavy, too slow—

The panic sharpened: raw, instinctive, primal.

And in the suffocating dark of the lake…

 
Something moved.

 Close.

 Too close.

A shape….

 A flicker….

 A presence…

Right in front of me.

Kai was laughing at something Cole. When a ripple of movement out on the dock caught his eye.

And Nya—Nya, who had been right there a second ago was gone.

His stomach plummeted so fast it felt like the ground dropped out from under him.

Where did she go?

 His eyes scanned the dock, frantic.

Where—where is she? She wouldn’t jump. She wouldn’t—

“Nya doesn’t know how to swim,” he whispered to himself, horror clawing at the back of his throat.

Then a chill swept up his spine, cold and unmistakable, the kind of instinct that hits before thought.

He saw the spreading ripples, dark and uneven, the water disturbed in an ugly pattern that screamed accident. Panic surged hot and fast in his chest.

Kai’s breath stuttered. His hands shook.

Kai’s breath hitched. He hated water. Always had. The thought of drowning? Terrified him.

But Nya was drowning.

And nothing—nothing—mattered more than that.

Kai didn’t think. 

He just ran.

 He didn’t hesitate.

Shoving his way through the crowd onto the docks, he jumps in. Cold knifed through his clothes, his skin, his bones. The world above blurred into muffled lights, sound swallowed by the water’s crushing quiet. The lake dragged at him, hands of liquid iron pulling him down with every kick. He forced his limbs to move, muscles screaming, lungs squeezing painfully tight already. He scanned the murky darkness, vision flickering with patches of firelight bleeding through the surface.

His fingers brushed something soft. His heart nearly stopped.

Nya.

Kai lunged, grabbing her wrist—her arm—pulling her against him. He wrapped one arm tight around her torso and kicked upward with everything he had left.

Her body floated limply, hair drifting like ink in the water. Her eyes were shut. Her chest still.

He broke the surface in a violent gasp, dragging her up with him.

A crowd had gathered from where Kai had jumped from. 

“KAI—OVER HERE!”

“GET THEM OUT!”

“SOMEONE CALL—!”

He grabbed the edge of the dock with one shaking hand. Skylor was already lying flat on her stomach, reaching down.
“Give her to me!”

Kai shoved Nya upward, muscles screaming, and with Skylor’s help, they hauled her onto the planks.

Panic surged in his chest like a second wave. He hovered, shaking, mind blank, until— The CPR class. He’d taken it last year. Not because he cared at the time, but because a cute girl from His english had said she was going. He barely remembered anything, except she bailed halfway through, and he stayed, pretending he was just really into learning chest compressions.

‘Please, let me remember.’

Kai dropped beside her, hands trembling. “Okay. Tilt the head… check breathing…”

She wasn’t breathing.

He cursed under his breath. “Shit— Okay. Chest compressions. Uh—30, right? Then two breaths. I think—.” Kai began pressing down. He counted under his breath, voice cracking.

“One—two—three—don’t you dare do this to me, Nya—five—six—!"

Skylor was suddenly beside him, pale and wide-eyed. “Is she—?!”

“Help me count,” Kai snapped. “Keep people back!”

Skylor snapped into action immediately, pushing back the forming crowd, shouting for space, for someone to bring towels, for someone to call 911.

“Come on, Nya,” he whispered, shaking. He started compressions again. “Twenty-three—twenty-four—come on, sis—twenty-six—”

Thirty.

He leaned down, giving two breaths—his own lungs barely cooperating, breath quivering, tasting like lake water and terror.

“Come on,” he whispered. “Come on, Nya—please—”

He started compressions again.

“One—two—three—”

On four, her body jerked.

A horrible, wet cough burst from her chest as water gushed from her mouth.  He rolled her onto her side as she choked and gasped for air.

“Nya! Hey—hey, I got you—breathe. You’re okay now. You’re okay—”

She sucked in a ragged, desperate gasp. Her whole body trembled violently, shock taking hold. Her clothes clung to her like a second skin, dripping lake water in steady streams.

Her eyelids fluttered.

Her voice was barely audible. “Eughh Kuh—ka..::Kai?::”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.” His voice cracked. He held her gently, supporting her as her breathing steadied by fractions.