Chapter Text
When Arin placed a new batch of pies in the oven, he did not expect to turn and see a figure hunched over his cooling pastries, nor did he expect it to be a blonde child.
Naturally, his first reaction was to rub his eyes as hard as he can to fend off the pull of sleep, but the apparition of the kid does not disappear. Rather, the boy waves innocently as he takes a chunk of one of the pies, devouring it in a few bites.
The action stuns the teen all the while the kid proceeds to dig into another portion, eyeing Arin with brown eyes. It’s only when the blonde boy takes a moment to lick snowberry juices off his fingers that Arin finally speaks out.
“Wha- Hey what do you think you're doing?” he asks out.
“Eating,” the kid says between bites, like it was a common occurrence to eat in a stranger’s kitchen at midnight.
“B-but, you didn’t even ask permission?”
“Oh, I wasn’t aware I had to. You were just standing there with your mouth wide open, so I thought you were just here to catch flies.”
Arin bristles at the child’s words, instinctively covering his mouth. He feels his face warm up as the kid snickers to himself, helping himself to another portion of pie. The teen stalks towards the boy, positioning himself to take the pies that definitely weren’t for him, but stops, reprimands dying in his mouth.
Now that he was closer, he noticed how small the boy looked. Tiny, even. His clothes accentuated this fact, as it hangs loosely off his bony shoulders, red striped sleeves countlessly bunched up by the elbows just to keep it as short as it was. If the kid wasn’t sitting on the kitchen counter, he would probably reach Arin’s hip, which was smaller than he would like.
“You can use words to communicate, you know,” the kid pipes up, shifting slightly under his gaze.
Right, he probably looked like a creep right now.
“Sorry,” he says awkwardly. Arin tries to put the visitor at ease by looking around, whistling a random tune.
“You're so weird. If it actually makes you feel better, I'll ask this time,” the boy whines, bringing Arin's attention back to him. He notices that oh– he's finished a whole pie by himself, leaving behind some crumbs, stray berries and an empty blue plate.
“Can I have more?” the kid asks slowly.
Arin would’ve laughed if the kid didn’t look so uncomfortable looking at him. Whether he asked or not though, he would have no qualms in giving him more. He grabs a clean fork from a nearby drawer, holding it out for the kid. “Here, knock yourself out.”
“Oh that actually works?” The boy smiles in relief. “Cool!”
Arin smiles softly as the boy grabs the utensil, brandishing it to himself and eyeing which pie to devour next.
But he can't help the pang of disappointment as the kid haphazardly shoves the empty plate aside, bringing a powdered pie closer to himself. It took hours just to decorate this batch in particular, and it stings that it isn’t being eaten by their rightful owners.
“I haven’t had anything like this before, it’s weirdly good. What’s in them?”
Well, at least the kid had good taste. “They’re all made with fresh snowberries.”
“Snow… berries? Like in those stories?” The boy furrows his eyebrows. “Those are real?”
“Y-yeah?”
“Guess you learn something every day,” the kid mutters to himself, stabbing the new pie with the fork.
Arin, on the other hand, mulls over the kid’s question. Snowberries were never a fixture of Ninjago, only existing in tales from the supposed Never Realm. Arin used to doubt the existence of other realms, but after the merge, not only has their existence been confirmed, the once-thought fictional berries were now a popular item across the land, especially in the Crossroads.
That begs the question, why hadn't the kid known about its current existence? Was he from the Crossroads, even? For that matter, how did the kid enter the monastery anyways?
Wyldfyre and Heatwave have taken refuge at the monastery courtyard so anyone passing by that section, and by extension, the gates, would’ve been sensed immediately. The preliminary security measures set within the Imperium monastery would’ve also alerted them to its use, so he couldn’t have entered there. He entertains the possibility that the kid could’ve stowed away in the bounty during one of its ventures, but he doesn’t see the kid jumping in or out of strange floating boats in the sky.
He decides to ask instead. “Where did you even come from?"
“The room,” the kid answers, mouth full.
Very helpful.
“Can you be more specific?”
The boy gives him a sideways glance, chewing slowly. Using the fork, he points vaguely out the kitchen doors. “You know, that room? Left corner by this hallway? It has a wooden mat in front and stuff.”
Arin blinks slowly. There could only be one room he could be referring to, but to his knowledge the room hadn’t been used since the Merge. After all, no one wanted to disturb the property of someone missing. “Y-you mean, Master Wu’s room?”
“That was his room? Ugh, no wonder it smelled like old sandals,” the kid grumbles.
“Wait, you’re telling me you’ve been staying there?”
“Yup,” came his reply. “Worst room by the way. There’s nothing there but candles and scrolls! Like who lives like that. Don’t get me started on the dust. Why couldn’t he move me anywhere else.”
“Move? What do you mean?” Arin asks.
“Well, I mean, he said to behave in the bounty’s cabin until he came back. I must’ve knocked myself out, cause the next thing I know, I woke up in his stupid room. Stupid old man, didn’t even have the courtesy of telling me.”
Arin feels himself sweating at the kid’s remark. Getting conveniently knocked out? Waking up in another location, unknowingly? That… sounded like kidnapping actually.
“Wait, this doesn’t qualify as behaving, right? Uh hey, If he asks, can you tell him I wasn’t here?” The kid has his sticky hands together, pleading with his eyes wide. Behind his angelic expression, Arin can sense a tinge of nervousness from the kid.
The teen feels like he wouldn’t like the answer if he asked why, but he does so anyways.
“It’s the first time I’ve seen him so angry, called me by my whole name and everything! I don’t want to get disciplined so soon after that backstabbing snake left me. So please? Keep this a secret?”
Arin doesn’t know how he should respond. Should he say he has nothing to worry about since his apparent kidnapper is missing? Or should he ask if discipline meant punishment for the simple act of going outside his room? Because it looked like Master Wu wanted this kid kept secret. Should he even ask what he meant by ‘backstabbing snake’?
The teen instead settles with a soft, “Sure.”
“Yes! You’ve earned some points in my book, baker man,” comes the boy’s proud declaration. With a nod to himself, the conversation has ended and the kid goes back to picking apart the sugary white pie.
Arin takes a seat across the kitchen counter, piecing together everything he’s learned thus far. Apparently, Master Wu, who was last seen years ago, allegedly kidnapped a child into the monastery possibly under the other ninjas’ noses, and said kid has been starved all this time as he awaits the return of said master?
He massages his temple. Maybe he’s misunderstanding things. Afterall, he is kind of sleep-deprived. Besides, what business did the old man have in taking kids? There’s no logical reason that he would—unless…
The teen thinks over stories of the ninja’s first appearance to the public eye.
Reports were scarce around the time of the Great Devourer’s release. However, a consistent story of the time was how the ninjas seemed to just spawn out of nowhere, arriving to save Ninjago with their colored outfits. They were reportedly teens when they fought off the skeleton army as well as the serpentine, but people never failed to mention their deadly efficiency, how they would always win against evil with a smile on their face. Journalists would often mistake them as adults with their supposed skills.
Perhaps Master Wu had already trained them when they were just children. That would explain their mastery of spinjitzu at such young ages. Was this kid then, a potential recruit?
He glances at the boy, who had abandoned the fork just to scoop the pie filling with his fingers. The teen blanches at the thought of turning this innocent kid into a fighter, a ninja—a child soldier.
“Hey ninja-maid, do you have any milk?” The kid’s voice cuts through his thoughts.
“Y-yeah, we do,” he says in a distracted manner, taking a carton out of the fridge with practiced ease. When he pours the kid a glass, he fully grasps the kid’s entire sentence. “Hey, did you just call me a ‘ninja-maid’?”
“Yup. I called you a baker man earlier, but that got me thinking, the ninja’s wouldn’t just hire a baker. So, I assumed you were like, their secret ninja maid, or something,” the kid rambles.
“What? No, whatever gave you that idea?” Arin asks, as he hands the glass of milk into the kid’s grubby little hands. He takes a cursory look at the pie and unsurprisingly, all that’s left is a white plate.
“Well, I’ve never seen you around the ninja before, and you looked familiar with the kitchen and everything. So you must be doing chores here when they’re off being busy, right?”
Arin hums at the kid’s deductions. “I don’t think that’s quite accurate.”
“Ah-ha, so I’m half right!” The boy declares. “S’all good dude, being a maid ain’t bad. In all honesty, I think the monastery looks better than the last time it burned down. And you all did it so fast, too!”
“No, I meant I’m not a maid, nor an employee here but uh—Well, you weren’t wrong, I kind of do a bulk of chores in my free time,” Arin admits quietly.
“Bulk of the—wait, so you’re telling me you willingly clean and stuff while not getting paid?”
“Yeah?” he says, unsure of where the problem lies.
Arin receives an incredulous look at that. “This is an outrage, you know that right?” The kid announces, finally taking a drink from his glass. His eyes widen and he glares at the contents. “Ugh, this tastes like piss.”
“Language,” Arin chastises.
The kid sticks his tongue out and Arin can’t help but snort. Despite the kid’s manners, he’s actually adorable.
“I’m not hearing you out until you demand money. I just can’t imagine cooking at,” the kid glances at the kitchen clock, “one-thirty in the morning, for free!”
“Kid, I am not doing this for money. Besides, the cooking thing is a one time thing.”
“What’s that mean?” the blonde asks, slowly sipping the drink he’d insulted moments ago.
“W-well,” Arin stutters out. “I was planning a surprise.”
An impulsive decision, really.
Ever since their escape from Imperium City, the monastery population had grown. With the addition of the dragons and their respective stables, as well as the discovery of the Imperium Monastery, extra responsibilities were delegated to keep some sort of order.
The ninjas have naturally taken it upon themselves in taking care of the merge and imperium related matters. With the assistance of Nya and Zane, Sora spends her free time learning up the intricacies of the Imperium monastery as well as cooking up various tech from it. Wyldfyre meanwhile, watches the dragons together with Kai, where they set up ‘matches’ between the creatures for what they claim to be strength - training .
So of course, menial labor was left up to him. It’s the least he can do after all.
But well… perhaps he wanted to help them in ways that showed his actual skills, like baking! So he had planned to surprise them with specially made baked goods for breakfast. The problem however comes in actually surprising them. Their habit of waking up early at ungodly hours makes it impossible to get the drop on them.
Which was why he’s up this early—or should it be considered late?—just to make this work.
“I-I wanted to do something nice for them, they do so much already you know so I thought, maybe I can show my gratitude through this and…yeah," he weakly explains, feeling himself flush.
Good job, Arin.
The blonde stares at him for what feels like minutes, his eyes searching for something. At one point, Arin could’ve sworn his eyes looked red, but he blinks and it returns back to that soft brown. Maybe he should’ve stuck with a vague answer.
“Oh, I get it,” the kid finally says, grinning. “That was a weak excuse by the way. You’re just trying to impress them, aren’t you?”
Correction, he really should’ve just kept his mouth shut.
Arin is saved from responding when the timer for the new batch of pies rings. Wasting no time, he excuses himself to take care of it. Unfortunately, that was all the answer the boy needed, as he guffaws at the action.
The teen pulls up his hood to hide his face from the kid, which makes the kid laugh even harder. No, he wasn’t embarrassed and he definitely was not trying to impress anyone. He was just trying to help the ninjas in his own way, for no other reason. Why he was now covering his face though well, he just—didn’t like the kid messing up his concentration as he placed the fresh pastries by the counter to cool.
From the corner of his eyes, the blonde calms down from his laughing fit. He’s now giving an assessing stare at the new pies, and Arin freezes. He had nearly forgotten. He just hopes that the kid doesn’t notice it.
To his dismay, the kid perks up, and scurries at his side carrying the empty plates that had carried the eaten pies.
Oh no.
“Is this—No, you didn’t,” the blonde says in disbelief. He sets the empty plates, one white, another blue, next to a pie with a bright red plate. The kid giggles hysterically as he points at its surface, where faint flame-like patterns made of syrup could be seen.
“So that’s why those pies looked so odd,” the kid says in realization. “So this one is for the red ninja? That’s so ingenious! Very creative, even I couldn’t come up with this stuff.”
Arin buries his face into his hands, and groans as loud as he can. The sound is drowned by another round of the boy’s mocking laughter.
He takes it back. The kid was anything but adorable.
“Chin up you ninja nerd, if your pies are like earlier, they’d still taste good” the boy says, giving a surprisingly gentle pat on his back. “Besides, I wasn’t lying when I said they were creative!”
The teen gives the blonde a withering look. “You think they’d like it? Visually, I mean.”
“Yikes, don’t get ahead of yourself. I called them creative, not good . But if you want their individual attention, I think you’d get it.”
Were the designs really that bad? Why oh why did he convince himself that ninja themed pies would turn out amazing.
“It’s just a shame though, all this effort seems like such a waste.”
“Waste?” Arin looks at the boy. His eyes are obscured by his poorly cut bangs, but Arin can tell he’s glaring at the red pie.
“Yeah. You’re doing so much for those jerks.”
Jerks? It’s been a while since he’s heard the ninjas referred to negatively. These days, citizens would regard them as heroes. But he remembers countless media coverage on them, depicting them as irresponsible individuals who believed they were above the law. Perhaps the kid has seen these broadcasts, influencing his sour view on the ninjas.
“They’re not… bad,” Arin starts his defense, “They save lives! That’s a non-jerk thing to do.”
He’s met with an unimpressed raise of an eyebrow, so Arin clears his throat and backtracks. “They’re trying their best to be heroes, and well—they’ve proven themselves to be called that because they risk their lives time and time again just to protect us. They can’t be that bad because their actions prove they’re selfless. Even when the odds are stacked against them, they never quit until they win against evil.”
The boy gives him a long look before he huffs, dismissing his words entirely. "Didn't they technically lose to Lord Garmadon?"
Arin pauses. Over the years, whether the man himself was considered good or evil by the public, Garmadon himself has been involved in countless fights with the ninjas. Which one the boy was referring to is lost on him, and so he voices out his question.
"They fought more than once?" the kid squawks out in response.
“Yeah?”
The kid mirrors his look of confusion. His brows are furrowed deep, teeth—wait, were those fangs? — poking out to bite on his lower lips.
“That doesn’t make sense, I thought he was banished!” he exclaims. “You mean to tell me he was out and about, fighting the ninja all this time?”
Arin's mind goes back to their interaction earlier, from not knowing the existence of snowberries and now, how unaware he was of Garmadon’s escape from the underworld years before the merge. That could only be explained if…
“Hello, could you stop collecting flies with your mouth and just respond ?” the kid says frantically.
Arin gives him a pitying look, and gives a slow nod to his earlier question.
The blonde swallows and for a moment, he looks lost. He sees the kid’s expression morph into, what he could only describe as devastation, before he curls into a sitting position. Worried, Arin slowly approaches him. He’s lost on why the news would garner such a reaction. He’s about to ask before he picks up the kid’s mutterings.
It’s faint, but he makes out a question.
‘ When are you coming for me?’
Oh.
The kid was afraid. The kid possibly still believed that Lord Garmadon was still the prophesized evil. Knowing that he was out and about would scare just about anyone. To add on that, if he really had been held captive for possibly years , it would also make sense that he would panic at the thought of an evil being taking him from what he currently knows–especially if said evil was the apparent, alleged , abductor’s brother.
Arin slowly puts a hand on the kid’s shoulder, prompting the blonde to look up at him. “Don’t worry, he won’t be looking for you,” he says in reassurance. Not if he can help it .
The boy blinks at him, slack jaw. His expression is unreadable, but the teen is quick to notice it suddenly turn to anger.
“What do you know!” he cries out, pushing his hand away. Arin feels it snag at something nearby, but he’s too late to react.
The sound of glass shattering fills the room, as pieces of the blue plate scatter around them.
Arin faces the kid to see if he’s hurt in any way, but all he does is stare at glassy reddish-brown eyes. Before he can say anything, the kid sprints out of the kitchen doors.
In hindsight, Arin should’ve asked for the boy’s name. It’s hard to look for someone, when he can’t even call out for them.
He’s knocked on the door for a few minutes now, to no response. It’s possible that the kid couldn’t hear him, is actively ignoring him, or isn’t actually in the Master’s room.
Arin has a feeling that the old man—who is yet to be confirmed to be dead or simply missing—would curse him if he caught him snooping in, but he really doesn’t have any other choice. So, with sweaty hands, he takes hold of the door frames and—
“Arin?”
—stumbles, falls, and lands on his face.
He recovers quickly and stands to lean on the doors. He crosses his arms for good measure. “G-good morning,” he squeaks out.
Nailed it.
His new company chuckles, moving closer. For having bright red gear, the man was actually adept in hiding in the shadows.
“Good morning to you too,” Kai says, walking up to him. “Lloyd should seriously consider training your awareness.”
Arin gives the man a sheepish smile as the ninja simply shakes his head good-naturedly. “Speaking of the green-bean, have you seen him out and about?”
“Not since dinner, no.” The answer prods a disappointed nod which worries the teen. “Isn’t he in his room?”
“He should be,” Kai mutters bitterly. He opens his mouth to say something, but he cuts himself off, settling for a smile. “I guess I must’ve missed him. Must be out doing exercises again.”
Arin tries to not call him out on how tense he looks.
“In any case, were you just about to set a prank?” the ninja asks suddenly. “Because let me tell you, Master Wu would definitely not like this.”
Arin shakes his head immediately, hands waving around. “No! I-I wasn't doing anything malicious, I swear.”
“Right,” the man drawls. “Does this also have to do with those pies in the kitchen?”
Arin gulps. He’d totally forgotten about that. “Okay, that’s unrelated. I’ll uh, explain later?” he reasons out, but Kai simply laughs.
“No need. Whatever you've got cooking, my lips are sealed. I'll even act surprised if it turns out I’m one of your targets!” Kai says, giving him a wink.
“I-It’s not a prank!” he exclaims. “Look, I’m here for something else. There’s this kid earlier and I uh– kinda scared him off somewhere.” Which was an understatement. Something he said made a child cry apparently, and he wants to make this right as soon as possible.
Kai’s smile falls off, his eyes narrowing. “A kid? How’d one get here?”
“No idea, he said Master Wu brought him in here. Said they both came from the bounty.”
“Master Wu? But we would’ve known if they arrived, we have literal dragons around the monastery,” Kai exclaims.
“Yeah, but uh,” Arin trails off for a moment to gather his thoughts. This was definitely going to sound corny, but he gives a serious look at the ninja. “They can’t exactly sense something that’s happened years ago.”
Kai blinks. And blinks once more.
He clears his throat.
“You lost me. Are we talking about time travel?”
“No! It’s… not that.” Kai gives him a questioning raise of a brow and Arin can’t help but sigh. “Just talk to the kid, you’ll get what I’m talking about.”
“Alright,” he says, prolonging the last syllable of the word. He’s looking at Arin as if he’s grown two heads, but looks away to eye the Master’s room. “So you think the kid might be hiding in there?”
Arin hums hesitantly.
Without any prompting, Kai immediately takes hold of the door frames, sliding it open. It gives off a low, grating noise from its misuse. It’s dark inside, with only the faint lights of the hallway illuminating a dusty section of the floor.
Kai reaches around the nearest wall. “Lights should still be working here—A-hah!”
Arin hears an audible click, and flinches as a bright light fills the room. He rubs his eyes, slowly adjusting to the view. Scattered around the room are varying sizes of rolled paper. Sheets of cloth littered around them, some even covering piles of paper and various other things he couldn’t identify. In the center of the room, half-opened scrolls were strewn about, their ribbons hastily tied. Taking a closer look, its paper was somewhat crumpled, appearing singed at the tips.
Kai leads the way inside, taking interest in an old shelf by the corner. Its contents, a set of stationary and candles lay on the floor. One of the ink bottles seems to have spilled, leaking on the floor and into an ornate mat.
“Weird,” Kai comments. “There’s… so much clutter in here. I don’t remember Master Wu’s room having this much stuff, it was always too clean bordering on empty even. But now it looks…”
“Lived in?” Arin finishes for him.
The ninja hums in contemplation, nudging papers with his foot. Arin curiously flips over the colored sheets he saw earlier and notices how several of them were arranged one on top of another over stacked scrolls, resembling a bed.
A particular sheet he comes in contact with gives off a crinkle of plastic. Arin pulls the cloth over just enough to see a splash of color.
“Find anything?” Kai asks from across the room.
“It’s not the kid but… a bag of chips?” Arin says in bewilderment.
Immediately, Kai crouches by his side. Arin hears him grunt before Kai scatters plastic containers that are either empty, or half full. “What was this, a lifetime stash?” Kai complains, as he studies the unearthed garbage. Arin notices plastic bottles of soda and candy wrappers mixed in.
Arin tries to calm himself at everything he’s seen. Was this how the kid survived all these years, sleeping on scrolls and sustaining himself with carbonated drinks and junk food? No wonder he’d look so small in his clothing. But how did none of them notice before?
“Hey, Arin,” Kai says, grabbing his attention. He’s not looking at him, but rather, at brightly colored mint wrappers. “What did the kid look like?”
“Small, blonde. Maybe 9 years old? He’s got those brown eyes, y’know those that kind of look red with the right lighting,” he recounts.
Kai tenses. “Anything else of interest? Was he wearing a black hoodie by any chance?”
“No, he was wearing bright red pajamas. Looked too big to be his though. But I guess he had fangs? Or maybe it’s the trick of the lig—" Arin gets cut off, letting off a yelp as Kai grabs him by the shoulders.
“His hair, what did you say it looked,” the ninja demands.
“Blonde?”
“ And? ”
“T-terribly cut?” Arin blurts out, unsure of how to answer.
That somehow gets a reaction though, as Kai blanches, cursing out the First Spinjitsu Master. Geez, Kai. It’s not like the ninja had any room to talk, with hair like that. Maybe the kid was right, the ninja’s can be jerks
Arin stares in confusion as Kai lets him go, shuffling towards the entrance. “This makes so much sense!”
“What do you mean?”
Kai doesn’t seem to have heard him, stalking through the hallway with purpose. Arin sluggishly catches up, hearing the man grumble to himself. “Why does this always happen when we split up? Ugh, I am not ready for another Sensei Wu situation.”
Another?!
This has happened before? Does that mean lost kids with bad haircuts, trained to become teen ninjas are actually a thing in the monastery? Arin tries to grab Kai’s attention for an explanation, but a sudden scream stops them in their tracks.
It sounded like it came from—
Kai moves before he can think, booking it to the courtyard. Arin does the same a moment later, picking up frightened screams from the outside.
Opening the courtyard doors, Kai and Arin stare as Heatwave stands tall, wings outstretched. A familiar figure hangs from the dragon’s mouth. “I’m too young to get eaten!” the kid shrieks.
“Be quiet!” a voice says from atop Heatwave’s head. Arin squints his heavy eyes to confirm that it’s Wyldfyre, face pinched in irritation. “If you shut up, perhaps we’ll show mercy and have you swallowed whole instead of ripping you apart.”
The kid, understandably, lets out an even louder scream.
“Whoa,” Kai jogs up to the dragon, Arin staying a good distance behind. “No one is getting eaten, okay? Heatwave, can you please let him down?”
The dragon in question tilts his head in confusion, Wyldfyre doing the same. “Should we not punish this intruder?”
“He’s not an intruder,” Kai says. He holds out his arms right beneath the kid, and looks straight at the dragon. “And even if he was, eating is a no-go either. Here, you can drop him in my arms and I can—”
“Hey, who said I agreed to this?” the kid yells, surprisingly defiant for a boy who had been screaming his head off moments ago.
“Do you want to get down or not?” Kai deadpans.
“Like you don’t enjoy watching me hang from high places.”
Arin’s eyes widened in surprise. Hang? Wait, they’ve met before?
Kai pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. It’s only because Arin was closer that he’s able to pick up the ninja’s words, “Guess this is before the volcano incident.”
Volcano? What volcano?
“In my defense, you were literally being a public nuisance,” Kai says.
“Well you didn’t have to humiliate me like that!” the kid shoots back, sticking his tongue out. “And you didn’t have to ruin my evil plans too, so I’d rather hang with Mr. Dragon over here, thank you very much!”
Evil plans? wha–
“I really doubt you’d enjoy that—Wait, why am I even arguing with you. Heatwave, do you mind?”
Obediently, the dragon angles his head low, gently placing the kid into Kai’s arms. The kid however, resists the contact, struggling with all his might. “Don’t you dare.”
Kai simply smirks, pulling the boy into his shoulder, holding him like a sack of potatoes.
The kid struggles in his new position, but Kai holds him in place with ease. “You’re worse than Uncle Wu,” came the boy’s whine.
Uncle Wu?? Just—What? Was he hearing this right?
“You think I can pull off a long beard?” Kai gleefully asks, slowly making his way to the monastery halls.
The kid groans in frustration. “Why couldn’t the dragon just eat me,” he mutters.
Kai lets out a laugh, surprisingly in a good mood. The kid meanwhile lets himself hang limp on the ninja’s shoulder, defeated. With a few steps, the ninja and the mystery kid finally disappear into the darkness of the monastery halls.
There’s silence in the courtyard, before Wyldfyre gives him a nudge out of nowhere. He’d been busy trying not to combust from what he’s heard that he hadn’t even noticed the girl situate herself beside him. “Can you tell me what just happened?” she asks, Heatwave’s face sliding beside her with the same curious gaze.
Arin groans.
“I literally have no idea.”