Archive of Our Own ^beta

Kai, for as long as he can remember, has always had a fight inside of him. He doesn’t know if it’s the flame flickering deep inside of his chest, the itching to stand his ground, or the deep sense of needing to protect his sister—but he’s always put up a fight. Whether to old babysitters who’d raise their voices loud enough to make Kai feel like he had to stand up straighter and raise his own, or to upset customers who’d push their way through his shop, or to skeletons and serpentine. 

He doesn’t know if it’s the reason that Wu had known that he was, without a doubt, his father’s son. If it’s a core aspect of Kai’s fire, his genetics, or if it’s something to do with Kai himself, how he was raised, what he’d learnt.

Regardless, Kai has always been good at fighting. Not in a literal sense, of course—he still remembers barely being able to land a hit against a single skeleton a few years back—but he’d always grown up with an itch. Some unwavering restlessness, the urge to get back onto his feet, to fight back against whatever new obstacle he’d been faced with.

It helped him grow as a Ninja, the competition with the others fueled him, though eventually, no one, not even Kai, would take it seriously. But even through jokes, Kai would always have a constant stream of too slow, didn’t dodge, weak hit, that would always be running through his mind. It forced him to get better, to grow.

Kai has always thrived on the fight, and so it’s no surprise that he’s grown up constantly chasing it. Fighting is good, fighting is easy. The constant cheer of the audience drowns out his doubts, his blood pumps in his ears, eyes constantly darting to figure out his opponents next move. Kai finds that when he’s constantly swinging punches back and forth, he hardly notices how terribly his hands are shaking.

But then, but then—when Kai’s opponents are all finally down, when, for a moment, everything stills— Kai can hear his heartbeat louder than the crowd. He stands alone in the ring, body aching, breath coming out heavy and in stuttering exhales, until he finally turns, not caring for his victory, and sits down in the quietest corner of Yang’s Tavern.

His first victory, he would’ve stood there longer. He would’ve cheered for himself, letting the serpentine leader— Mezmo, Kai’s heard people call him—raise Kai’s hand and declare him the winner. Kai would’ve smirked, drinking in his victory as if it were the only thing keeping him alive.

But slowly, after each fight, his wins stopped being worthy of a celebration. They’re too easy, too simple, and they now leave a sour taste in his mouth.

For Kai, the hardest part of fighting is when it’s over.

He sits silently in the corner, foot balancing on the empty chair opposite him. People don’t talk to him much anymore, which Kai likes, as there’s not anyone he’d like to speak to, anyway.

Bright lanterns sway above him, and he watches quietly as dozens of strangers continue to drink through the night. There's a drink that sits beside Kai himself—but that’s barely touched. His fingers tap restlessly against the wooden table, not quite having the courage to reach for the glass.

And maybe that’s the thing. The second that the fight is over, Kai stops getting to pretend that he’s still a hero, that he’s fighting a villain. When he’s sitting in silence, feeling the way his throat tightens as he swallows down the thought that this isn’t what he should be, not what Zane would’ve wanted—the realization hits him again. It’s cold and painful and with a sickening ache, the understanding that every battle Kai faces now, he faces alone.

The chatter spread across the room is never enough to hush the thoughts in Kai’s head. His drink isn’t enough to ease the sickness in his stomach.

Kai’s always lived for the fight, except now, there’s no fight to live for.

Bitterly, the thought comes to him that Zane was selfish. That, rather than saving the others and escaping to fight another day—Zane had taken the victory himself, sacrificing his life to get the final laugh.

Kai’s pretty sure he saw Zane smile back then, before he died, and Kai wonders if he died knowing that he’d robbed Kai of the victory that he had spent his entire life waiting for.

But Kai only swallows, shaking his head to himself. He knows Zane too well for that. Zane died protecting his loved ones, those he cared about, and Kai’s known that since the moment he first fought beside him. Zane would’ve died for his friends, his family—and he did. He died to keep them all safe, to keep Kai safe.

Some life that Zane died for , Kai thinks, perhaps selfishly. Zane died for Kai to spend each night doing slither pits, spending money on untouched drinks, and staying up long past sunrise.

No matter how long the slither pits fights last, no matter how distracting they are in the moment—the second that they’re over, Kai’s thoughts always lead back to Zane. It seems that nothing can distract Kai from him these days.

Kai eyes his glass, but he knows that it still wouldn’t be enough. Even when Kai’s barely lucid, he can still imagine Zane, still sees Zane in every stranger. He imagines Zane leading him back to his apartment, scolding him on the way—or asking him dozens of questions, concern dripping from his voice as he tries to bandage Kai’s knuckles, stained with blood.

There will be one more fight before the sun rises, one more fight before the place empties, one more fight before Kai has to go home. 

Home, He thinks bitterly, and the word reminds him of his father's shop, it reminds him of an old Monastery, of a crowded flying ship, and it doesn't remind him of the messy apartment that Kai's currently living in.

All Kai can do right now is sit and wait. Wait for the last fight, the last distraction for the night, and then he'll wait for the sun to set tomorrow, and he'll come right back.

When the restlessness in his fingers become too much, when the itch under his skin becomes unbearable, Kai fidgets with his jacket, and then manages to pull out his phone. He tries his best to stay off of it as much as possible, usually keeping it on silent. Even when he does check his phone, he rarely replies to anyone unless it's some kind of emergency. Which, thankfully, it never is.

He has a few messages, though from people he doesn't care about. He hadn't even bothered to remember their names, and they’re labeled in his contacts only as guy i owe money to , or girl who threatened to kill me once . He grimaces, barely even registering their messages before swiping the notification away. And then—

Two missed calls from Lloyd.

Kai stares at his phone, breathing in sharply as he blankly rereads the text over and over again. This isn’t the first time that Lloyd’s tried to call him, to reach out, text, offer a place to chat—and Kai’s sure that it won’t be the last. But, surely, one of these days Lloyd will realize that Kai’s never going to respond.

Kai knows that Lloyd must be feeling awful—though, these days, who isn’t?— because Lloyd’s grieving too. He’s grieving Zane, and the old team, and perhaps even his role as the savior. If there’s anyone who’s feeling guilt or responsible for Zane’s death, Lloyd would probably be at the top of the list.

Lloyd was supposed to be the destined one, he was supposed to be the one to deal the final blow, the one who was supposed to defeat the Overlord. He was supposed to be a hero, and for a time, he was, before they found out that the Overlord had survived.  Before Lloyd had fought tooth and nail to destroy him again, only to fail, only to be drained and give up everything to honor his destiny, before—

Zane must’ve known it, Kai thinks. Zane must’ve known that he wasn’t supposed to be the one to do it, that it wasn’t his role to be the hero. But, that never stopped him. No, Kai knows that no prophecy would’ve stopped Zane from protecting his family. 

Sometimes, Kai wonders what would’ve happened if it was Lloyd, instead. If Lloyd had managed to harness the power of the Golden Weapons, get his powers back, and if Lloyd would’ve survived, finally defeating the Overlord for good— and if everyone would’ve lived to tell the tale. 

Kai’s sure that Lloyd wonders that, too.

But Lloyd has Wu, he has Nya, and he has Garmadon—and that’s all he needs. Everyone is grieving, but Lloyd, at least, isn’t alone. That’s all that Kai needs to know that Lloyd will be okay, and that’s all Kai needs to know that talking to him will do more harm than good.

He can’t even imagine what Lloyd would think of him now. 

And so, fingers finally regaining their strength, Kai swipes away Lloyd’s missed calls. I don’t care, Kai tells himself, and for a second, he almost thinks that it works.

Kai ends up opening Chirp, despite knowing that it’s a terrible idea. He knows that he has about fifteen minutes before the next slither pit begins, and he doesn't have much to do in the meantime, so he might as well scroll.

But he soon comes across a new article about a new Borg device, which is based on some of his nindroid technology. Kai clenches his jaw, staring at the screen as he skims through the article and some of the responses.

It's not like Kai believes that Borg's doing this for the money. No, Kai's talked to him, Kai was the one who Borg had first talked to regarding Zane's statue, and he knows that Borg is trying to do the right thing. But Kai can't help but feel angry.

He has no right , Kai thinks bitterly, and soon the glass is in his hand. Zane wouldn't have minded. He knows that Zane wouldn't have, and a few months ago, Kai wouldn't have either. But now —

Zane's dead and Borg's not able to ask permission. He's not able to ask if Zane would be okay if they could use Dr. Julien's old blueprints to optimize some new consoles. He was a person , Kai thinks helplessly, Zane was more than this, he deserves to be more than just a new technological advancement.

Kai chokes down part of his drink, setting it back on the table with a loud clatter. He's never been a huge fan of the taste, though it's not like he drinks often enough to figure out which kind he prefers.

He hears the main door open, and, perhaps just out of habit, Kai's eyes quickly dart over to investigate. He squints, staring at the new guy walking in, probably there for the last fight of the night. He's a typical rough guy, big, covered in tattoos---and trailing up his arm is one of a giant snake. He probably goes to slither pits often.

It’s probably a bad sign that Kai basically never feels safe here. He never knows who’s gonna come in and what their intentions are—and even if they aren’t there for Kai, and they’re just here to fight, then they’re still dangerous regardless. Some time ago, Kai might’ve broken into this place to track down some criminal, and handed everyone here over to the police. This place is sketchy, to say the least, down to the slither pit fights, or down to the fact that Kai doesn’t even need to show his fake ID to get a drink.

Despite how often Kai frequents, how he’s undefeated, how he has a certain reputation, he still feels out of place. He still feels like he should be out fighting real villains, saving the world—but that life he yearns for isn’t his anymore.

I belong here. He tries to convince himself, eyes darting around the room, but it sounds like a lie even just rolling around in his head.

His eyes land back at the new guy who just came in, searching him. What makes him belong, but not Kai? Is it the way he walks, as if he’s used to this life, as if there’s nowhere else he’d rather be? Is it the unhinged grin as he speaks to the bartender, as if the thrill of being in this corner of the city keeps him alive? 

That’s it, Kai thinks abruptly. He needs a tattoo. Surely, he could get one of fire trailing up his arm to match his element. It’d be a change, one that isn’t terribly self destructive, but might still scratch his restlessness itch. It’d prove to himself that he can move on, that he’s not stuck in believing he’s still some kind of hero.

It would make it so that when Kai looks back at old dusty photos, he’ll see a family with their arms all wrapped around each other, and he won’t recognize himself in the photo. It’s what he needs to stop clinging onto the past, to stop wondering how the world’s changing so fast, yet leaving Kai behind.

…But then, the moment after the idea enters his head, he groans. If he were to get a tattoo, surely he’d get one of fire, but he’s not supposed to use his element here. That’s the one thing that Kai’s held himself back from. Using Spinjitzu or his fire in a place like this would only draw attention, or make the fight unfair. And even if Kai absolutely needed to, he’d do Spinjitzu. His fire shouldn’t be used in a place like this. Fire should be used honorably—and this place is the farthest thing from honorable. 

But despite shutting down the idea, it gives Kai a new one. Surely, what he needs is some kind of change. Some way to make himself believe that he’s a new person here, that he’s not a Ninja, like he’s not missing his family more than anything else in the world.

…Maybe he could dye his hair, or something. If he’s the red shogun—which is what he called himself, rather impulsively, when he first signed up—then maybe red would work. Kai could pull off red hair, probably.

Kai looks back down at his phone, staring at the half-read article. He debates whether or not finishing it, or pulling back up Chirp, but he decides on neither. He doubts that either of those things would make him feel any better. He might as well just finish his drink and wait in silence, despite his restlessness.

He moves to set his phone down—before it begins to buzz. Someone’s calling him.

Kai blinks, confused, and checks to see who it is. He doubts it’s anyone important, as Lloyd wouldn’t be up this late, so it’s either spam or someone he doesn’t care about.

Jay.

Jay?

Why was Jay calling him? Why now? Why after months of little to no contact? Not to mention at this hour—

But the notification quickly vanishes, Jay seemingly hanging up himself.

…It must have been an accident then, Kai assumes. Jay didn’t mean to call him. After all, why would he? He probably has his own life now, just like Kai does.

Some life this is, the thought returns to him, but Kai pushes past it. Jay’s call really doesn’t matter to him. Kai probably would’ve ignored it anyway.

But Kai doesn’t move to put the phone down.

The call doesn’t matter to him, it was almost definitely an accident, and Kai doesn’t care. He has his own life now. It’s not like Jay thinks about Kai anymore, being too busy wrapped up in his own miserable drama to bother checking in. Kai can still hear his bickering with Cole, his complaining about Nya, him talking over Zane—Kai doesn’t really know why Jay would’ve called him anyway. It’s not like Jay cares.

…Unless, something in the back of Kai’s head whispers, Jay has no one else to turn to.

If he was injured, in danger somewhere, would he call Cole or Nya, the people who he’d been fighting with for months? Would he call Lloyd, the green savior, who refuses to accept that things have changed? Would he still attempt to put in Zane’s number, hoping beyond hope that he’d show up to save him?

Or would he call Kai?

Kai breathes out sharply, abruptly planting his phone face down on the table.

Maybe Jay should’ve called someone more reliable.

Kai sits there, hands covering his phone, as he stares blankly around the pub.

Ten minutes left until the next round.

His hands begin to fidget restlessly.

Fuck.

Kai suddenly grabs his bag and phone, leaving his drink on the table, as he quickly leaves out the back door, pulling up Jay’s contact and calling him back. He walks outside, moving past a handful of dumpsters and arrives at a more isolated spot, usually where he’d go to smoke.

He waits rather impatiently, internally cursing himself each second that Jay doesn’t pick up. This is stupid, he thinks, but waits nonetheless. 

After a few seconds, Jay answers.

“Jay?”

“...K–Kai? ”

Kai breathes out. Even though it’s just over speaker, Jay’s voice hits him straight in the chest. Kai isn’t sure if it’s relieving or painful. “Hey.” He says, trying to keep his voice even. He looks around, making sure that no one had followed him outside. “I saw you called.”

“...Yeah. Um, sorry about that. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to.” Jay says, voice shaking. Maybe it hurts for Jay to hear him, too.

“I figured.” Kai admits, “Just wanted to check in, make sure everything was alright.”

“...No, no yeah, everything’s fine.” Jay says, and Kai can almost hear him shivering from the cold. It’s a pretty windy night—Kai wouldn’t be surprised if Jay had his window open from his apartment, or wherever he was at. “I, um, would’ve messaged to tell you that it was an accident, but I didn’t think you were awake, so…”

“Ah.” Kai says, rather awkwardly. He clears his throat. It’s a quarter till five—Too early to wake up, late enough to be asleep. He’s not surprised that Jay, reasonably, thought that Kai would be in bed. Though, that does make Kai raise a brow. “Yeah, well, I could say the same to you. Couldn’t sleep?”

“Something—something like that,” Jay whispers, a bit vaguely. “You?”

Kai smiles, though it’s a bit sour. “Something like that.” He shoots back, and hears Jay huff over the phone. 

“W–Well, um, sorry about the call. I hope you’re doing okay, and everything. I’ll let you get to bed now. Because it’s late, and you—you really should be sleeping by now. Please, um… take care of yourself.”

“I doubt I’ll be sleeping anytime soon,” Kai admits. It’s colder outside, and the wind seems to have a bite, so Kai messes with his jacket and properly pulls it over his shoulders. “So it’s no problem, really. I have something in like, ten minutes, but didn’t have anything to do while waiting, so you kind of called at a good time.” 

Jay pauses. “What, you got—like, a job you need to get to, or something?”

Kai winces. “Job is an… interesting way to phrase it. I’m, um…” Kai trails off. Should he tell Jay what he’s doing? He doubts that Jay would take it very well, or even want to talk to him afterwards. If anything, this would be a great way to get Jay to hang up. Kai breathes in slowly. A small flame won’t do much to an already burning bridge. “I’ve been doing, like, slither pit fights.”

“Slither pit?” Jay asks, “Like, that old serpentine tradition?”

“Yeah, that.”

“...Oh.” Jay says simply, and Kai can practically imagine the look of disgust on his face. He tries to prepare himself mentally for Jay to either scold him, or insult him, or just hang up and say that— “...Are you being careful, at least?” Jay asks, a bit quietly.

“What?”

“Are you being careful? Like, you’re not making any big enemies, or letting yourself get seriously injured, or anything like that, right?” 

Kai’s almost startled by the concern. “Um, no yeah, I’m being careful, I guess.” Kai lies, knowing full well that careful is an… interesting word to describe Kai’s behavior as of late. Actually, Kai doesn’t think that he’s done anything careful in years. “But it’s not like any of the guys here stand a chance against me, you know.” Kai insists, attempting to sound cocky to ease Jay’s nerves. “I happen to be the master of fire.”

“That k–kind of sounds like you’re not being careful at all.” Jay says instead, rather than laughing in agreement. 

Kai huffs, “I am. I just mean that even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be in danger.” He adds, though he realizes that it probably doesn’t sound very reassuring.

“...You know,” Jay begins, a bit hesitant, “if you get knifed to death in some alley, the money for you to get some great statue wouldn’t be coming from my wallet. I’d be like, hey, I told him to be careful, and he said he was the master of fire. It was his own fault, really.” 

Almost startled by the joke, Kai laughs. “I won’t be knifed to death, Jay,” Kai grins. First master, it’s so good to talk with him again. “I was a Ninja for a while, you know.” He says, faking offence.

“Yeah? Ninja can still get knifed to death.”

“Maybe you could,” Kai retorts, “but trust me. None of these guys can even land a blow on me.”

“Right.” Jay says slowly in disbelief. “Because the Kai I know would fight a bunch of guys who can’t land a hit. And those types of guys would totally be signing up for slither pits.”

Kai smiles, “Maybe I’m training them.” He offers, “Teaching them Spinjitzu. In Wu’s fashion, obviously, so I'll be letting them fail for like, a few more weeks.”

“Ah, right. You, training all these random strangers and serpents Spinjitzu in your free time? Sounds like something you’d totally do after everything.”

“Totally.” Kai agrees sarcastically, though the unspoken everything weighs on the air. It’s heavy, and a bit painful, remembering that even though Jay and Kai are talking as if nothing’s happened, as if they’re still close—they aren’t. He wonders if it hurts for Jay, too.

“...But seriously,” Jay speaks after a few seconds. “...You’re—you’re taking care of yourself, right? You’re doing okay?”

Yeah, I’m fine, Kai wants to reply, but for some reason, maybe just the understanding that things are different now, that things aren’t and never will be the same—the words don’t manage to leave his lips. “I’m trying.” Kai breathes out instead, through a stuttering breath.

“That’s, um, not very reassuring.”

Almost instantly, Kai regrets saying it. The vulnerability, the openness—it’s not something Kai’s supposed to do anymore. He’s been trying so hard to fit into this new life he’s carved out for himself, a life without softness, without being genuine. “Why do you care?” Kai snaps, trying to correct himself.

But Jay doesn’t reply, doesn’t respond with the same hostility that Kai would’ve expected from him these days. Jay doesn’t blurt out some insult like he’d do with Cole, or hang up in offense, not caring enough to deal with Kai’s bitter attitude. Instead, Kai can barely hear Jay’s soft breathing hitch through the speaker. He’s quiet, and when he finally does speak again—it’s gentle, almost resigned. 

“I just…” Jay whispers slowly, and then he shivers, “I just wanted to make sure you’ll be okay, you know? You don’t… you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. I don’t blame you, not with everything that’s happened. You can hang up, if you want, but just… I wanted to make sure you’ll be okay. I guess, it’s hard for there to even be an ‘okay’’ after all this, but… you’ll… you’ll still be alive, right?”

Kai’s mouth hangs open, a guilt threatening to drown him. Jay’s mood switch seemingly came out of nowhere, and the sincerity of it catches Kai entirely off guard. Kai shuffles, leaning himself against the building wall. He tries to steady and guard himself, his expression, as if Jay could see him now. “...Yeah.” Kai finally agrees, and he hates being so vulnerable. Kai thinks it might be nostalgia tugging at him, remembering late nights talking with the others out in the courtyard, whispering secrets he never thought he’d have the courage to say out loud. The relationship he’d formed with the other Ninja, the trust —it seems to be backfiring on him now, as all he wants to do is spill to Jay every secret he’s kept since then. 

Though, it might just be something about Jay, Kai thinks, and it sounds more right. It was Jay who’d first gotten Kai to open up back then, anxiously admitting his worries about his sister, his frustration about his training. Because, somehow, despite Jay seeming to never take anything seriously, to laugh louder than the worries in Kai’s heart—that night, Kai can still remember how quiet Jay was, how intently he listened to Kai, and how there was an air of understanding that Kai hadn’t ever experienced before.

Kai had believed that he’d never open up to anybody, that he’d never trust or care about anyone other than Nya— but then Jay came along, and with a gentle tug, with conversations under the stars, Kai had been pulled into a team. An understanding, caring, and trusting team.

So Kai clears his throat, and despite himself, despite something in his head screaming to just hang up and go back inside, he breathes out. “Yeah, I’ll… be alive.” He confirms hesitantly, like it’s something hard to believe, hard to fathom. He doesn’t know how to continue, how to apologize, but before he knows it, his mouth moves before he can shut it. “I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just… hard now. I mean—as you said, it’s hard to imagine there even being an okay after everything.”

“You make it yourself, I think.” Jay offers, wordlessly accepting Kai’s apology. “A life where things are okay. You have to work for it, and make it yourself.” He explains, a strange wisdom in his voice that caught Kai off guard back when they first met, and somehow still does. “But I think you could do it. I think—I can see you, even if it's years from now, settling for at least an okay, even if it’s hard. That’s—kind of something you always do, Kai. You don’t give up, even if you think you have.”

Kai exhales, shaking. He keeps his voice low, scared that someone might hear. “That’s… so hard to imagine.” He admits. “Things are changing so much now. I’m trying so hard to change with it, but moving on is, well, harder than expected. And moving on without him just feels so…”

“Wrong?” 

“Yeah.” Kai agrees. “You know, I’m… I’m almost waiting for him to show back up, acting as if nothing happened, telling me to stop drinking my problems away and get back to work.”

“...You shouldn’t really be drinking at all, you know,” Jay says, a bit quietly, concerned. But thankfully, he doesn’t dwell, seemingly understanding that it’s not his place. “But I get it. Me too, I think. Sometimes—sometimes I feel like all of this is just a bad dream. And I’ll find that he’s shaking me awake, because breakfast is ready.”

Kai chokes out a laugh. “I miss his breakfasts.”

“...They were really good. I have his old cooking book, and I try to make some of his recipes…but I never get it right.”

Kai hums. “You’ll have to show me those, sometime.”

“Yeah, I—I will. Um, let me do that now,” Jay says, suddenly seeming as if he’s pressed for time. “I think I took photos, so I can just text you the—”

“No pressure to do it tonight,” Kai interrupts, not wanting to force him, “I mean, I don’t need them right now, and I’d probably have to look for specific ones, if you’d ever be willing to let me flip through the book. It’d be nice… to, um, see his handwriting, I think.”

“I’ll… yeah, um. I just keep it in my apartment. I think… I think it’s in the top cupboard. You’d be able to find it, I bet.” Jay explains, and Kai raises a brow, confused as to why Jay thinks he needs to know its exact location. As if Kai would ever be rummaging through Jay’s apartment alone, and Jay just wants to save him the trouble. “And yeah, it’s nice seeing h–his notes.”

Both of them go quiet, and Kai shuffles with his jacket when the wind continues to chill Kai through the thin fabric of his jacket, crossing one of his arms as he holds up his phone with the other. He can still hear Jay shivering.

Kai finally clears his throat. “Sorry,” He says, steadying his voice, “I didn’t mean for this to get…I don’t know. So emotional, I guess.”

“That—that’s kind of just how things are now.” Jay says simply. “If you were calling and just like, ‘hey, by the way, everything’s great, and my life is perfect’, then… honestly, I'd be a bit concerned, you know?”

“Still,” Kai insists, “We haven’t talked for a while. I just… wish I had something better to talk about.”

“I don’t mind. You can talk about anything you want, really.”

Kai’s silent for a second, trying to think of something more lighthearted, something that doesn’t hurt so much. “I’ve been thinking about dyeing my hair.” He decides on.

“...What?” Jay says, caught off guard.

“Yeah,” Kai continues. “Like, red.”

“Like… bright red hair?” Jay says, almost in disbelief. He pauses for a second, waiting for Kai to counter, and when he doesn’t, he breathes out a laugh. “Okay, no. Kai, I hate to tell you this, but you can barely get away with your haircut already. Red hair would look awful.”

“What?! I could pull off red hair!”

Jay laughs, “No, no, you could not. Please, I plead with my life, do not dye your hair bright red. A streak, the tips, maybe, but your whole head? I can’t even imagine. At that point, lighting your whole hair on fire might be a better look.”

“Okay, you clearly have no idea what you’re talking about.” Kai interjects, though, despite himself, he grins. “But I’ll hand it to you, you might be onto something with that fire hair…”

“You were not supposed to take that literally.” Jay says immediately, “Your hair is already barely holding itself together with all that gel you put on. Dyeing it is a death sentence.”

Kai huffs. “Dying it?”

“...Funnily enough, that—that wasn’t meant to be a pun.” Jay huffs, amused. “But no, I’m serious, you’d look awful. I’m sure you could find something else that’d look cool. Something that wouldn’t kill your hair, and any hope you had of looking good.”

Kai hums, rolling his eyes at the insult, forgetting that Jay can’t see him. “I was thinking about maybe getting a fire tattoo. I think that could look cool.”

“Ooh, where?”

“My arm, I think. Wouldn’t that look sick?”

“Like a sleeve tattoo?”

“If I could afford one, then yeah.”

Jay’s silent for a moment, as if considering something, before he speaks. “That would look pretty sick. I think it’d look great on you, and it’s much better than the hair.”

Kai smiles, “Glad to hear I have your approval.” He says sarcastically, before realizing how one sided this conversation has been so far. “...Would you ever get a tattoo?” He asks.

“Oh, um,” Jay suddenly goes quiet, and he pauses for a few seconds. “...I don’t know.” He admits softly, “I’ve never thought about it.”

“You could get some pretty cool lightning ones, I bet.” Kai comments, “Not as cool as fire, obviously, but I bet you could.”

Jay laughs, though it sounds a bit strained. “Yeah, I guess—I guess I’ll have to consider it. Um, why do you want to dye your hair, or, um, get a tattoo in the first place?”

Kai winces. He wanted to keep this lighthearted. Really, he should just say that he wants to, and leave it at that, but something about Jay always seems to loosen his lips, and Kai curses how easy it is to talk to him, how Jay doesn’t judge, how he’d listen … “I think I need a change.” Kai admits. “Like, everything’s been changing so much lately, and I almost feel like I’m… stuck, still being me. And I feel like if I change, if I dye my hair, or get a tattoo, or fuck, I don’t know, I’ll… I’ll suddenly fit into whatever’s going on now.”

“I get it.” Jay agrees easily. “I don’t think that’s how it works, but it can feel like that sometimes, I think. Just…don’t…” Jay trails off, and when he speaks again, Kai’s not sure if he’s imagining the shake in his voice. “Just be careful, I guess. I don’t wanna say that you’re not allowed to fight, or you can’t try to change yourself, but… things are hard right now, but it’ll get better. Just don’t do anything dangerous, or reckless, please. Be safe, that’s—that’s all I want, if that matters.”

“...I didn’t know you cared so much about safety.” Kai says, slightly confused as to where all of this is coming from. Everyone on the team has always been a bit reckless in their own way—it might just be something that comes along with becoming a Ninja—but it was always something quiet, something that no one would ever say out loud. They’d dance around the topic,  saying things like you were being too reckless today, you didn’t have to take that hit, I would’ve been fine, or I get you want what’s best for the team, but you’re part of that, and we can’t have you getting injured. Kai thinks that everyone on the team has been on both the receiving and delivering end of those talks, more times than anyone can count.

But after the team split up, after months without reaching out… he didn’t think that anyone would care as much. They weren’t saving the world anymore, they weren’t throwing themselves into battle after battle—so why would anyone need to be worried about safety?

He’s almost expecting Jay to take it back, to laugh and admit that of course, he’s not worried about Kai’s safety, Of course, he knows that Kai can handle himself, and he’s forgetting that they’re not fighting anymore. Of course, he doesn’t think that anyone’s in danger. But instead, Jay continues, shivering. “Can you promise me that?” Jay whispers, “that you won’t be stupid and get yourself hurt or killed? That you’ll stay safe, and alive, no matter what?”

Kai swallows. “I… um.” He takes a deep breath. “I can promise that I’ll try.” He says, still a bit hesitant, unsure as to why Jay’s asking. Unsure, because Jay sounds so genuinely concerned, and it’s making Kai wonder if it’s a promise he’s able to keep.

Jay’s silent, as if he’s debating whether or not that’s good enough. “...Fine.” He decides, “But you have to really try. I mean it.”

A bit more confident, Kai nods. “I will.”

“Good.” Jay breathes out, sounding relieved, as if some huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. “ That—that’s good.”

Kai almost asks why, asks why Jay thinks that he might be in danger. Kai almost asks Jay to promise that to him too, so that Kai might feel as relieved as Jay seems to be. Some anxiety being awakened in him that, if Jay thought Kai was in danger, maybe Kai should think Jay is, too. “Wait,” Kai says abruptly instead in realization, pulling his phone away from his ear and checking the time. “Shit.”

“What?” Jay asks, “...Is everything okay?”

Kai groans. “I missed the first round starting.” He explains, moving his phone back to his ear. “That was the last slither pit of the night, so I can’t participate. Ugh, I got too distracted—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Kai. I didn’t mean to—to take over your night, and ruin your plans.” Jay says, almost scolding himself, “Hey, maybe if you go back, they’ll add you in?”

Kai grimaces. “Not usually how it works. The later it gets, the more strict they are about these things, since it'll be closing up soon.”

“Oh,” Jay repeats. “I—I’m really sorry. I’ll stop bothering you now. Sorry for calling, I really didn’t—”

“It’s not your fault,” Kai interrupts instantly, not wanting to hear Jay blame himself for a moment longer. If anything, though Kai doesn’t quite know how to say it, he's almost glad. He’ll regret it later, but right now, he’d rather be talking to Jay than fighting another stranger. Kai hasn’t had a nice conversation with someone he cares about in so long—which is mostly his own fault—but now that he’s able to, he doesn’t want it to end. He knows that Jay will have to sleep eventually, and that they can’t stay on call forever, but as brief as it might be… Kai doesn’t want Jay to think that it was some kind of inconvenience.

They haven’t talked about anything specifically good, and even just hearing Jay’s voice is a pain by itself… but it’s a better hurt than bitter drinks, bloody knuckles, and lonely nights. “It’s not your fault,” Kai repeats, “I’m… um, glad, I think. And, hey, at least now we can talk for a little while longer.”

“...Okay.”

“Well, not unless you need to get to bed, or something.” Kai backtracks, remembering that maybe Jay isn’t as grateful as Kai is. “We could always talk in the morning—”

“No, I—” Jay interjects suddenly, almost sounding fearful. “I won’t… I, um…” Jay breathes in sharply, shivering, and then lets out a shaky breath. “I don’t know how available I’ll be tomorrow. Tonight—tonight is good.”

“Okay,” Kai says, a bit slowly. “...Uh, what, are you busy tomorrow, or something?”

Jay pauses, “You… could say something like that.” He says, but his voice is trembling, and maybe Kai was right in thinking that he sounded scared.

“Jay, are—” He pauses, swallowing down the thought that it’s silly to ask if Jay’s safe. It doesn’t hurt to check. “Are you okay?” 

“No, yeah—yeah, I-I’m okay, don’t worry.” Kai narrows his eyes, the response only making him more suspicious. I don’t believe you, Kai wants to say, but Jay continues. “I’m fine, really, just… hearing you talk is nice.”

Kai breathes in. If Jay says that he’s fine, then Kai… Kai can trust him. “I doubt there’s anything nice that I have to say.” He says after a moment.

“I didn’t say you were talking about nice things,” Jay corrects, “I said that you talking was nice. There’s a difference.”

“...I guess there is.”

“If there’s anything that you want to talk about, I’m… here to listen, for tonight. I don’t know, um… I–If you’d want to talk about your fights, or… something, I don’t know.”

Jay sounds so… fidgety, Kai thinks. Maybe he’s restless like Kai is—but something about the way that Jay’s stumbling through his words, the shake in his voice, makes Kai think that it’s more than just restlessness. “I’ve talked a lot.” Kai begins, “I don’t think I’ve asked about how you are. I’m not the best listener, but… uh, I’m curious. How have things been for you?” Kai prompts, hoping that Jay will open up, explain why he sounds so nervous. Then, once Kai gets an explanation, he can stop being so worried about it.

“Oh, um, it’s… fine.” Jay says, very unhelpfully.

“Fine?”

“Yeah. It’s—” Jay takes a shuddering breath, “It’s fine.”

Kai pauses, giving Jay time to speak, but he doesn’t. “Oh, come on, Jay,” Kai says, annoyance and concern mixing in his voice. “You love talking, talk to me. How’s your day been, what have you been doing—you can talk about whatever. It doesn’t have to be good. Just… I’d like to hear about how you’ve been.”

“That… um, I appreciate you asking, but really, I don—” Jay shivers, “I don’t have much to say.”

Kai narrows his eyes, concern turning into some terrible sense that this isn’t right, that somethings wrong. “I feel bad for talking this whole time.” Kai insists, “You gotta give me something to work with, dude.”

“I’m serious, there’s… nothing.”

“Okay,” Kai says, slowly. “Then what about just tonight? Why can’t you sleep?”

“I… um, just can’t. Just happens sometimes.”

“Right. Why? ”

“...Why?”

“Yeah, why can’t you sleep?” Kai asks, shuffling his feet.

“...I just can’t. It’s not a big dea—”

“Okay then, like—I don’t know. Why are you so cold?”

Jay pauses. “What?”

“This whole time, you’ve been shivering. Close your window or something. I’m at least wearing a jacket, man. Don’t you have one of those? Or a blanket?”

“I didn’t bring one.”

Kai raises a brow. “You didn’t bring a single jacket to your new apartment? You have, like, a million. How come—”

“No, I’m—I have some at my apartment, but right now, I…” Jay hesitates, “I’m out in the city. Going for a walk. I didn’t realize it’d be so cold. Forgot to bring a jacket.”

Kai’s eyes widen, and he instantly straightens, dozens of alarm bells ringing in his head. “At this hour?!” Kai asks abruptly. “Do you know how dangerous that is? Where the fuck are you? How long have you been out?”

“You’re one to talk.” Jay shoots back, ignoring Kai’s concern.

Kai breathes out. “I know, I know—but, Jay, first master. Why the hell are you out? Why are you still out?”

“I don’t… I don’t know.” Jay admits, “ I don’t know.” He whispers, sounding genuinely lost, and Kai’s stomach twists.

“Where are you?”

“I said I’m in the city."

“That’s—you know how fucking vague that is, right?” Kai asks, and he grips his bag and pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on. He storms out from the side of the wall of Yang’s Tavern out into the street. “Where are you? What street? How far are you from your apartment?”

“I don’t… I don’t remember how long I walked.” Jay says, quietly. “F–forty minutes, an hour, maybe? I wasn’t paying attention, or like… looking at street signs. But that doesn’t matter, really.”

Fear starts to stir in Kai’s chest, his heart racing. Something’s definitely wrong. A sinking dread begins to eat at him. Something’s wrong, he thinks, the thought looping in his head over and over again. Something’s wrong, something’s wrong— “Why the hell did you walk so far from your apartment?” He interrogates, hand clenching into a fist.

Jay doesn’t reply.

Kai breathes out. “Okay, Jay. just—do you know roughly where you’re at? Like, what places are nearby?”

“...I…think so?”

“Okay, okay.” Kai says, trying to calm himself down. “Then—um, let’s play a game.” He blurts out, seemingly resorting back to something he’d try to say to Nya way back when. “If you were really hungry, right now, what place would you go to get some food?”

“Oh, um… There’s… a Buddy's Pizza around here, I think. T—The one I wanted to work at.”

“The one you…” Kai squints, vaguely trying to remember the different Buddy's Pizzas around. If it was one Jay wanted to work at, then it needed to be close enough to where the ninja’s old apartment was before they got the Bounty back… “ Oh! The one with the arcade? That you and Lloyd like?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Okay, okay, that’s good.” It’s not too far from where Kai’s at. If he hurries, he can make it there pretty soon. “How long would it take for you to walk there?”

“Ten, fifteen minutes? I—I don’t know. I’ve never come there from this direction before. But it’s closed, and I’m not—not that hungry, anyway.”

“This directi—okay, and where would that be? Where are you at right now?”

Jay doesn’t reply.

Kai walks, speeding across the street as he quickly makes his way towards Buddy's Pizza, anxiety getting worse and worse each second that Jay stays quiet. “Well? ” Kai asks. “You in an alley? Some shop, the street, where—”

“The bridge.” Jay finally whispers, though it comes out a bit choked. “I’m by the bridge.”

Kai narrows his eyes. “...Why the hell are you over there?”

“I… like the view.”

Kai grits his teeth. “Okay, what side of the bridge are you on? Would you need to cross it to make it to Buddy's or not?”

“I’m… right in the middle.”

“You’re—okay, you’re on the bridge?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, okay,” Kai swallows. “Don’t move. I’ll be there.”

“What?!” Jay suddenly exclaims, surprisingly loud. “Wait, no, Kai, don’t come here. Fuck, sorry. Don’t be worried, I’m fine, seriously. I can make my way back, I’ll figure it out. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Maybe you didn’t mean to,” Kai grits out, “But you did. And I don’t have anything better to do, so just stay put. I’ll be right there.”

“No, no, Kai, you don’t get it. Please, I swear I’m fine. I didn’t mean for you to get worried, nothing’s going on. I just couldn’t sleep and wanted to go for a walk. I only got lost because I’m a bit tired, it’s okay.” Jay rambles, a bit desperately, voice progressively getting shakier and shakier. It does nothing to ease Kai’s anxiety—if anything, it only makes it worse. “Fuck, Kai—I didn’t mean to tell you where I am. I wouldn’t have if I knew you were coming. That wasn’t an invitation. Don’t come here, I’m serious. Everything’s fine, I swear.”

“Stay put, Jay.” Kai insists, ignoring his pleads. “And stay on call. Promise?”

“Kai—”

“Promise?”

Jay’s quiet, and for a second, the silence weighs heavy on Kai—listening intently through the static wind coming from Jay’s speaker, before eventually, Jay huffs. “Promise.”

“Okay, good. Stay on call. I’ll be there.”

“You shouldn’t.” Jay says, voice trembling. “Kai, you—you really shouldn’t. I don’t… think you’d want to see me.”

“I don’t think you’d want to see me either,” Kai comments, remembering his worn down clothes, rough bandages around his arms and blood on his hands. “But I’m coming anyway.”

Kai knows that Jay’s probably fine. He believes that he just wanted to go for a walk, that he’s just tired, and could easily make his way back on his own. But something in Kai’s stomach twists, something inside him that’s screaming that Jay’s in danger. That Jay could get hurt if Kai’s not there with him. He tries not to think about how long Jay had been out in the open, in the late hours of the night—completely exposed. 

Jay can handle himself. Kai knows this, but—perhaps selfishly, Kai wants to keep him safe himself. He wants to know that Jay’s safe.

“Do you at least have some self defense thing on you?” Kai asks.

“...Yes?” Jay says, hesitantly.

“...That sounds more like a no.”

“I have my lightning. That counts.”

“Barely. You’re telling me that you’ll electrocute some random guy who tries to knife you—Hey, wait a second. You were the one saying that I’d get knifed to death, while you’re out in the middle of the night without anything to defend yourself?”

“I ne–I never said that I wouldn’t. I just said that I’d be mad if you did.”

Kai groans. “You’re awful, you know that, right?”

“I know.” Jay agrees, but his voice breaks at the end, as if he’s not joking. “Is there anything I can say to convince you not to come get me?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Jay.”

“I had to ask.”

Kai breathes out. “Just… stay on call. I don’t know, just… talk to me. But stay aware of your surroundings, keep an eye out for anybody suspicious, and—”

“I know how to look out for myself, Kai.”

“Well, apparently fucking not, Jay. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if I needed to tell you to breathe. Not going for walks in the city in the dark, alone, mind you, is like… safety 101. What were you thinking?”

“I just… wanted to clear my head. Really, it’s nothing.”

“The more you insist it’s nothing, the more worried I get, you know. But look, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, okay? But just…say something. I miss hearing you talk, and—and ramble for like, hours. You’re so quiet, and you’re never this quiet, and it’s freaking me out, so just… Fuck, Jay, just talk to me about something. ”

“But I told you,” Jay whispers, “I don’t have anything to say.”

Kai sighs, frowning. He continues walking, making his way past dozens of closed shops and buildings. His feet slowly beginning to ache with the force he’s walking with. “...You know, I heard they’re making another fist-to-face. Did you know about that?” Kai prompts, remembering seeing an article about it the other day.

“...They are?”

“I don’t know how to feel about it, honestly.” Kai says. “What do you think? Do you think it'll be good? You’re the more nerd-y one about this kinda stuff.”

“Well,” Jay begins, slowly. He hesitates, as if he’s sure that he’s being led into some kind of trap. But Kai stays silent, giving Jay room to speak, until eventually, he does. “The first two were fine, I don’t really think there needs to be another one.” Jay says simply, but Kai still refuses to speak, so Jay continues. “I mean, a remaster I can understand, but there’s not much they can add for a third. Like, the combat system and the bosses are good. There’s not much room for improvement.”

“Oh, yeah?” Kai asks, hoping to encourage him. He stops briefly at a light, waiting for the street to clear.

“Unless they’re completely reworking the combat system, or adding in some new complicated mechanic… there’s not much they can do. Unless they’re just like, making another game that’s the exact same, but with new bosses. But there are already mods for that. I guess the developers just wanted to join in the fun.”

Kai smiles, shoulders easing with relief. “We’ll have to play it together then, sometime when it comes out.” 

“I—um, huh.” Jay goes quiet, as if that’s some thought provoking offer. “...You’d do that with me?”

“Duh. It’s multiplayer for a reason.” Kai says, before the light finally changes, and Kai quickly speedwalks across the street. Things are getting better now, the conversation is better— but that doesn’t mean that Kai doesn’t need to get there as soon as possible.

“...You could play with Cole.” Jay mentions, and Kai’s hopes instantly plummet. Any mention of Cole or Nya isn’t a good sign. “He’s better, you play with him more.”

“Yeah? Well, Cole’s not the one who called me tonight.” Kai interjects, before Jay starts getting all depressed and starts spiraling because of them. “So that means you get dibs on the game. We haven’t played together for a long time. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Y—Yeah.” Jay chokes out. “I’d… um, love to play, if I’m able.”

“Good.” Kai says. “Now, just… stay with me. Keep talking about fist-to-face. I’ll be there before you know it.”

“You—You’re being so nice to me.” Jay says, and his voice breaks. “Why? Why are you being so nice?”

Kai’s heart twists. “Because you’re my friend, Jay. I know everything that happened is—complicated, and dumb, but that doesn’t change the fact that I—I still care about you, dude. It’s not rocket science.”

“I care about you a lot too.” Jay admits, voice trembling as if it’s a terrible confession, as if it’s something that Jay’s somehow terrified of. “I care about everyone so much.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Kai says, attempting to keep his tone light.

“For me, it is.” Jay confesses, “It’s awful. It makes doing... things so hard. I’m… so sorry I called, Kai. I’m sorry you have to deal with this. I didn’t mean to call, I didn’t—”

“But you did,” Kai reminds, mostly because hearing Jay apologize over and over again sounds wrong to Kai’s ears. “and I’m glad that you did. I haven’t talked to anyone in awhile. This has been nice, and we can talk more on the way back to your apartment.”

“Kai? How—how long—how long until you get here?” Jay asks, and it sounds like he’s sobbing now, pausing between words to gasp for breath. And Kai’s suddenly realizing that he’s never actually seen Jay full on cry—only shed a tear now and again—even when they found out Zane died. He remembers seeing Jay’s look of pure despair, staring out into the broken icy street, standing completely alone.

He remembers watching Jay turn away, forcefully blinking away tears as he left to be by himself. Kai wonders if Jay had sobbed then, once he was finally alone, and Kai wonders how often Jay does cry, and how many sleepless nights like these he’s spent, body being wracked with tears. Kai wonders if Jay’s been comforted since Zane’s death, if a single person had ever reached out to him, pulling him into a hug and saying that it’d be okay.

Kai grits his teeth. He’s gonna be there, and he’ll pull Jay into the most bone-crushing hug ever imagined once he does. Heart racing, legs burning as he basically runs, only slowing to read signs, to figure out the fastest route, Kai breathes out. “Soon, buddy. I’ll be there soon. Just a few more minutes, okay?”

“Could—could you please hurry?”

“What’s going on? You okay?” Kai questions suddenly, fear seizing him. “Is something happening?”

“No, I just…” Jay lets out a choked sob. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Guilt twists in Kai’s stomach. “You’re not alone, Jay. I’m on call with you, and I’ll be there soon, okay?” He insists. He needs Jay to believe it—he needs Jay to know it. “Hey, We can talk about something nicer, if you want?” Kai offers, “So the time will go by before you know it.”

“I like hearing you talk.” Jay admits, his voice cracking at the edges. “Doesn’t—doesn’t have to be nice.”

“Okay, okay.” Kai sighs of relief. He swallows, trying his best to come up with something. He thinks about all the fights he has, the strangers that he never talks to, and how he practically knows nothing about any of them. It’s not like he’s made any friends, or like he’s done anything interesting—just constant fighting, trying his best to stay afloat, while restlessly sleeping through the days. “There’s this cat on the street.” Kai comments, “It walks around with me, sometimes, while I’m heading from place to place. I try to give it food whenever I can.”

“Y–Yeah?"

“Yeah. She’s really cute. She doesn’t let me pick her up or pet her much or anything, but I think she knows now that I usually mean food, so she follows me around. She’s like, a dirty brown color. Sometimes when I come across her, we just kinda stare at each other, and then keep walking, minding our own business.”

“That’s really cute.”

“It is, yeah.” Kai hardly knows what he’s talking about right now, but he continues regardless—eventually rambling about a fight he had a few weeks back. A new guy had shown up, acting all high and mighty, while boasting and pushing around some of the other contestants. And while Kai typically tries to fight fair—he couldn’t help himself but pull out Spinjitzu the second the round started. He’s sure that the guy was severely humbled, and he doubts he’ll be seeing him again anytime soon.

Jay laughs at that though, despite Kai’s scattered explanations and occasional stuttering. Well, it’s not exactly a laugh— more like a sharp puff of air, but Kai takes it as a victory anyway.

Kai hasn’t had to do this since he was a kid. Nya had gotten sick, and Kai freaked out while carrying her, attempting to keep her awake until he could find an adult willing to help. He was scared that she was going to die.

For some reason, the same childish fear hammers in Kai’s chest. I have to keep him awake, Kai thinks, over and over again, as if Kai falling silent would be a death sentence. As if Kai’s talking is the only thing keeping him alive.

It’s not true, and Kai knows that—but the fear still lives in him regardless.

So he practically runs past buildings, refusing to let himself fall silent, as he tries to find Jay. He stops his stories every so often, making sure that Jay is still there and listening. Jay always is, and it should be relieving—but then he’ll shiver, and Kai’s stomach twists. He doesn’t know why he’s so scared, but he is.

Every minute seems like an hour, and yet it’s all such a short blur that Kai’s barely able to process how he gets from place to place, only comprehending that he’s not where he should be yet. 

Until eventually, as his feet speed across the sidewalk, he spots the bridge. “I’m almost there.” Kai says, slightly out of breath. “I’m gonna be there in just a second, okay?”

“Sor–sorry for, um, making you come all this way.”

“I’ve said it, like, twelve times now. I seriously don’t mind. This—it’s good to be out, alright? It’s not a big deal.”

“It is.” Jay whispers, “It is to me.”

Soon, Kai’s approaching the bridge, and as he turns to cross it, he sees a lone figure standing by the railing, facing towards the water. Kai can barely make out the phone in his hands, seemingly talking on speaker. Kai’s barely even thinking about himself now, barely thinking about what Jay might think when he sees him, only feeling the need to get to Jay as fast as possible. 

“I see you, give me a second,” Kai huffs out, and hangs up. The figure— Jay— looks down at his phone, staring at it blankly before putting it in his pocket, and doesn’t even bother to look around for Kai.

But the closer Kai gets, the better view he has of Jay. He’s expecting to see his friend, the person who he’d train with each morning. He’s expecting to see his friend, with a permanent light in his eyes and mouth turned upwards into a smile. Kai’s expecting to see his friend, but the closer he gets, the more Kai doesn’t recognize him.

“Jay,” Kai announces, and Jay finally turns to look at him.

Kai’s expecting to see his friend, but he can barely see his friend in Jay at all.

His eyes and nose are red and puffy from crying, the only light in his eyes is the reflective tears clinging to them. Jay looks exhausted, but it’s nothing like bumping into him in the kitchen after pulling an all-nighter because they’d wanted to play videogames, instead, Jay looks as though he’s half dead. He looks as though his exhaustion runs much deeper than from just sleepless nights, as if he’s spent his entire life burdened by some heavy weight that he’d never been able to get rid of. 

Gone is Jay’s dorky smile that would make his eyes crinkle up at the corners, his laughter that could reassure Kai on stressful missions. And almost gone is Jay’s spirit—the thing that had made Kai nod his head when he learnt that Jay was the master of lightning. His quick reflexes and jokes, his scattered way of talking and exaggerated movements, as if his very soul was lightning itself, coming in bright bursts that would light up the whole sky. There’s no trace of that left in Jay, and he only looks empty and tired. Kai can tell that the light in him is gone, and Jay hasn’t even spoken a single word yet.

It hits Kai all at once that Jay’s different. But not different in the way that everyone changes as they grow old, but different as if Jay had suddenly turned into a stranger. As if Jay had been suddenly robbed of everything that made him Jay and turned into nothing more than a shadow. 

That’s what it is—Kai thinks, breath caught in his throat. Jay looks like a shadow, as if he’d never known light, as if he’d been raised in the dark and the cold. Jay looks exhausted, as if despite living in the pitch black, he’s never had the privilege to lay his head down and rest. His wrinkled clothes and messy hair almost lay heavy on him, weighing him down despite flowing freely in the wind. 

“Shit.” Kai whispers under his breath, and walks closer towards him, one step at a time, as if approaching a wild animal.

“Hi.” Jay says, voice cracking, and even hearing his voice break is too much for Kai, and he speeds up walking towards him, disregarding trying to be slow, and pulls him into a rough hug.

“You fucking scared me.” Kai says, almost scolding him as he tightens his grip.

Jay melts into the touch, any stiffness draining away the moment he meets Kai’s warm arms. “Sorry.” Jay replies, muffled by Kai’s hold. “I—I didn’t mean to.”

Kai almost wants to keep him there forever, but eventually pulls back, remembering that Jay’s definitely cold. Jay resists pulling away from Kai’s arms, but does so reluctantly.

“Here,” Kai offers, taking off his jacket, “Put this on.” He basically forces it in Jay’s hands, and Jay looks at it, frowning.

“What about you?” Jay asks, voice rough and hoarse from crying. “You’ll be cold.”

Kai narrows his eyes, and, wordlessly, lifts up his hand and snaps—a tiny burst of fire sparking from his fingers, and dissipating in the wind. “It’s hard to be cold when you’re the master of fire.” Kai says, raising a brow. It's not exactly the truth, but Jay doesn't need to know that.

Jay huffs, but doesn’t argue. He’s still fidgeting with Kai’s jacket, and he stares down at it, almost like he’s too busy focusing on the fact that it’s in his hands, to remember that he’s supposed to put it on. But then Jay shivers, suddenly remembering that yes, he is cold—and quickly shuffles it up his shoulders. 

Kai watches carefully, and once Jay notices, his eyes widen slightly and instantly dart away, guilt radiating off of him. “Thanks.” He whispers. “Sorry.”

But Kai only shakes his head, and he shrugs, trying his best to stay casual. “Don’t worry about it,” He insists, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.. “Let’s just get you home, okay?”

“Home.” Jay echoes, then trails off. He looks down, not saying anything else, and Kai gets the feeling that Jay feels similarly about the word home.

There’s not one, anymore, Kai thinks. Not one alone, not one without the team.

Kai’s expression falters, but then he quickly steadies himself. This isn’t about him, this isn’t time to mope, not when Jay’s still out here. Kai’s almost ready to turn around and head back to Jay’s apartment—before realizing that he doesn’t know where it is.

“Um.” Kai says, awkwardly, “Where are we going, anyway?”

Jay blinks, “Oh, right,” He whispers softly to himself. “Sorry. I forgot you don’t… you don’t know where I’m staying. Um,” Jay says, a bit louder and directed at Kai. He looks around, before swallowing. “This way.” He says, and without another word, begins to walk.

Kai follows beside him, staying close and refusing to trail behind. Jay doesn’t start to speak, and doesn’t prompt Kai to say anything, so the two walk in silence. Kai watches him closely, while Jay watches his feet, refusing to look up and meet Kai’s eyes. He almost seems ashamed, embarrassed, as if Kai’s just caught him in a moment of weakness, one that Jay didn’t want him to see. Jay seemed so desperate on call for Kai to be there with him, yet now he seems to want nothing to do with him. 

But regardless, Kai’s not planning on leaving anytime soon. Not until Jay’s safe in his apartment, not until Jay’s safe.

Jay continues to walk, keeping his head down, barely even bothering to look around before making turns. Somehow, Jay’s feet seemingly know the path to the bridge and back as if Jay had carved it himself. Kai can’t help but wonder how— how Jay could so perfectly know where he is, where he needs to go, while being lost the whole time? Jay said that he didn’t really know where he was, and Kai wonders how Jay couldn’t name a single street, while perfectly navigating through them. Jay had said that he liked the view of the bridge, maybe implying that he goes there often, but then why did Jay sound so terrified? 

And why does Kai feel so scared for him? Why can’t he shake this terrible gut feeling that Jay’s very life is in danger, and why isn’t it easing while Jay quickly makes his way back to his apartment? Surely, that means that Jay could’ve found his way back even if Kai wasn’t here. Surely, Jay would have defended himself if he needed to. Kai knows that —but something about the way Jay’s eyes seem so empty, so distant, and something about the way that he walks this path as if he has dozens of times before, only makes the twisting fear worse. The reason sits on Kai’s tongue, a dark and bitter taste, but one that Kai can’t quite name.

Eventually, they make their way towards an intersection. In Ninjago City, there always seems to be an infinite number of cars heading somewhere, no matter the hour, no matter where. Jay leads him towards the crosswalk, silently implying that they need to cross the road. While there aren't many cars, there are still enough to warrant waiting for the pedestrian crossing light.

Kai’s closer to the button, but for some reason he hesitates before looking away from Jay. As if Jay’s only safe when he’s being watched, as if something might happen to him the second that Kai can’t see his every move. Jay doesn’t seem to notice—or care that Kai hasn’t pushed the button yet, only blankly staring forwards towards the road.

Slowly, reluctantly, Kai tears his eyes away and moves towards the button, reaching out his hand and hitting it—perhaps a little bit aggressively—until Kai suddenly hears a car rush past. His heart plummets into his chest, and without thinking, his head snaps over towards Jay and grabs his hand tightly, as if he might’ve needed to pull him back. As if Jay would’ve walked forwards himself.

Jay turns to Kai in surprise, jumping at the sudden contact. Jay might’ve said something, he might’ve asked why—but then he looks at Kai, and sees that his eyes are wide, breathing heavy, and Kai thinks his heart is beating out of his chest. 

Kai doesn’t know when he first exactly started to understand, when he first started to realize, but it’s in that moment when it finally hits him. When Kai finally realizes that all the pieces he’s been giving form a picture—a horrible, dreadful, and downright terrifying picture. 

Maybe Kai should’ve realized earlier, when he saw Jay calling, when he first heard the shake in his voice, when he learned that Jay was at the bridge. Maybe Kai did know earlier, maybe he just couldn’t believe it.

The answer had been right in front of him, it was obvious, it was painfully obvious— because there’s no other reason that Jay would’ve gone for a midnight walk without his jacket to—of all places, a bridge. That Jay would’ve called Kai, and desperately told him to stay safe, no matter what comes next. That Jay was trying to give Kai advice, as if Jay wanted their last conversation to be something memorable and sweet, to replace and cover their last bitter talk. That he told Kai the fucking cupboard that Zane’s old recipe book was in, as if he wasn’t going to be there to show Kai himself. 

And Kai’s eyes are still wide, filled with fear, but Jay’s eyes harden in understanding. And Jay still doesn’t look anything like the friend Kai knew so long ago, but now Kai begins to wonder if he ever knew Jay at all. Maybe there’s always been a reason that Jay’s laugh would bounce and echo through the halls, as if it were to make up for sleepless nights like these. Maybe there’s a reason that Jay’s very first invention to share with the team was a pair of wings, and maybe there’s a reason why he refused to talk about them.

The slow understanding of who Jay is now, the slow comprehension of what the night could’ve been—it comes to Kai with a sharp twist in his chest. He feels like he’s going to throw up, he feels like he can’t move, he feels like he knows too much, and he feels like he doesn’t even know half of it.

Kai’s still holding onto Jay’s hand, still desperately searching his face for answers, knowing that there’s not one that he likes.

Jay knows that Kai understands now, too—so Jay forcibly tears his eyes away, instead focusing on the few occasional cars still driving past, not daring to look back.  But still, Jay doesn’t move to take his hand away from Kai’s, and Kai can’t help but be glad.

Neither of them speak, Kai not even knowing what to say, not knowing if there’s anything he even could say. They just watch the street, their heavy breathing barely being heard through the rush of the cars.

When the crossing signal finally lights, Kai quickly pulls Jay across the road, despite knowing that they have time to cross. They both know why. 

Another minute passes silently, and Kai doesn’t let go.

“I’m sorry.” Comes Jay’s rough and hoarse voice from beside him, and it’s quiet, but to Kai it sounds like glass shattering in his ears. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to drag you into this, um.” Jay admits, and he pauses, as if trying to find the energy to chase down the few remaining words that sit on his tongue. When he finally does speak again, his voice has lowered to a whisper. “You don’t have to worry about me, you know. I’m not—I’m not gonna just walk into traffic in front of you.”

The words hit Kai like a punch in the gut, as if acknowledging it out loud is speaking it into existence. Hearing Jay admit it, confirming it, even though Kai already knows—it’s too much. Kai lets out a shuddering breath. They turn a corner, they walk past a shop.

“What would’ve happened,” Kai finally asks, not bothering to entertain Jay’s crappy attempt at reassurance with a response. “If I hadn’t called you tonight?”

Jay’s quiet for a few seconds—it might’ve been another minute—at some point, Kai stopped registering the long pauses, the tense silences, as it seems to just be part of how they’re talking tonight.

“I would’ve walked back to my apartment.” Jay finally says, and Kai almost wants to yell at him. To scream an ugly, angry, and horrified scream to say that Kai knows that’s not the truth. To scream that Kai knows that Jay’s a liar, and that surely, Jay doesn’t believe that Kai’s stupid enough to believe that. But before Kai has the chance, something else enters Jay’s face. A bitterness, a disgust. “I always do.” He adds, and Kai swallows sharply. "You know me, Kai. You, of all people, should know that I'm a coward."

That, Kai realizes, is why Jay’s been around long enough to know the path to the bridge, and the path back.

“ Jay, ” Kai says, and this time it’s his voice that’s breaking. Jay doesn’t turn to him, continuing to walk, almost faster. “Jay, you know you’re not—”

Jay suddenly stops, turning to Kai sharply. “Look, I’m not going to do anything, alright? Something always gets in the way, whether it’s—it’s my parents, or Zane, or Lloyd—or fuck, I don’t know. Tonight, tonight I thought…” He trails off, and swallows. He lets out a shaky breath. “You… you just don’t have anything to worry about, okay? That’s why I’m sorry that you’re here. I’m sorry for—for making you freak out over nothing. Because this is nothing, it’s stupid, and it’s dumb, and it’s so—so incredibly stupid. Nothing’s gonna happen, okay?”

“What if something did?” Kai asks suddenly, voice raising. “You’re right, Jay, I do know you, and what if one day, something—” Even attempting to say it out loud feels impossible, and Kai’s voice breaks, and tears burn in the corner of his eyes. He blinks forcibly. “What if something happens? Do you think that’d be better? Do you think it’d benefit anyone? Do—do you really think that we think so little of you?”

“It doesn’t matter! ” Jay yells, but tears are gathering in his eyes now, too.

“It does! ” Kai insists, “This does matter, Jay, this is a big deal! You can’t—you can’t just pretend that nothing’s happening, when—"

“Because nothing is happening!” Jay cuts him off. “Stop worrying about me, when I’m not gonna fucking do anything!” He yells, and suddenly pushes Kai, causing him to stumble backwards a step. “I’m not!” Jay repeats, and pushes Kai again, “I can’t—” He pushes, “I can't do anything! ” He tries again, arms getting weaker, “I’m—” The fight drains from Jay as Kai wraps his arms around him, and he begins sobbing in Kai’s shoulder, only letting out a muffled fuck before giving in. He sinks his whole weight into Kai’s chest, and Kai only holds him tighter.

“I’m sorry,” Jay cries, “I’m so sorry. I’m so— ”

“It’s okay.” Kai cuts him off, “It’s gonna be okay, Jay. It will be.” He reassures, and he instinctively reaches up to run his hand through Jay’s hair.

“You don’t believe that.” Jay replies in between sobs, “I know you don’t. You—you were the one who said that you couldn’t imagine there being an okay anymore.”

“And you were the one who said you needed to make it yourself.” Kai counters, trying to steady his breathing. “It’s gonna be hard, and it’s—it’s going to suck, alright? This, right now, this sucks. But—fuck, Jay, you’re alive, and that’s something. That’s something to work with.”

Jay’s breathing goes funny. “I feel—” He tries, words getting caught in his throat for a moment, “I feel like I—I’m too sad to be alive,” Jay admits, voice breaking. “I just want all of this to be over.”

All of this, the words echo in Kai’s mind. All of this meaning grieving over Zane, watching helplessly as less and less flowers appear day by day beside his statue. All of this meaning losing the team, suddenly feeling abandoned and completely and utterly alone . All of this meaning sleepless nights, living through tired eyes, barely surviving each day. 

But for Kai, all of this means the relief in first hearing Jay’s voice crackle through his speaker. All of this means listening to Jay’s jokes and breathy laughs, it means being able to talk openly— to finally have someone that understands him, an old friend, someone that Kai cares about, and someone who cares about him, too. All of this means trust and tears and firm hugs, no matter how bittersweet or terrifying. 

Jay wants all of this to be over, and even though Kai knows that he means the pain and exhaustion, Kai can only think of training with him in the courtyard, his dorky grin and his hysterical laughter.

Kai wonders if Jay’s forgotten what things used to be like, if he’s forgotten what they used to live for. Kai wants to tell him that there is good in the world, and there is happiness and light and love, but it’s hard to imagine the light when the suns gone down.

Maybe if Kai could go back, if Kai could just spend five minutes with Jay in their old monastery, whacking eachother in the face with their dull weapons, challenging each other over the most stupid things, then Kai could show him. Kai could look at Jay in the warm sun, permanently dripped in yellow lighting as if stuck in some nostalgic memory, and convince him that things can be okay.

How could you want this to be over? Kai would ask, We were happy, weren’t we? Weren’t we happy? Weren’t you?

But instead they’re standing out in the street in the middle of the night, cold and choking with sobs. 

“Things will get better,” Kai says, firmly, deciding it’s better to say something than to say nothing at all. “Because they’ve been better before, and they will be again. You have to fight for it, Jay, and I know, it’s exhausting, but you’re fighting for it right now. Even though things are awful, you’re still finding reasons to stay. That’s because you’re fighting for it. Because you’re brave, and—fuck, Jay, you’re the farthest thing from a coward I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

Jay crumbles more, if that was even possible—legs falling out from under him, and Kai stumbles, lowering them to the ground, still holding onto Jay as tightly as possible. 

“It doesn’t feel like it.” Jay says, “This doesn’t feel like fighting, it—it just feels like losing, over and over again.”

Kai’s voice chokes, and he realizes that he’s crying now, too. “But you’re alive, ” Kai says, with such emphasis it feels as though he’s speaking of something more important than the universe. “And that's enough. Living and surviving each day is enough, alright?”

Jay huffs, trying his best to scoff through his tears. There’s an argument waiting on his lips, a counter, but instead, Jay breathes out, leaning his head further against Kai’s chest. “I want to believe you.” He whispers, then pauses, “is that selfish of me?”

Kai’s quick to shake his head. “No.” He says, certain. “Not selfish at all. Not even the tiniest bit.”

They fall into silence, but soon Jay’s breathing begins to steady. Kai shuffles slightly, and Jay quickly wraps one of his arms around him, trying to prevent him from leaving. “Can we stay here?” Jay asks, voice shaking and terribly small. “Just—just for five more minutes? I want… I want to believe you, just for five more minutes, please.”

I want you to believe me forever, Kai almost says, but instead he swallows. “It’s not very safe out here,” He whispers, “but I can come back to your apartment. We can get wrapped up in blankets and get all comfortable and sleep in late tomorrow.” Kai offers, though he knows that he won’t be able to sleep a single second tonight. “Does that sound nice?”

Slowly, hesitantly, as if he’s not sure he’s allowed to say yes, Jay nods. “I’m sorry.” Jay says again, and Kai huffs.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Kai reminds, trying to keep his voice light. “Now, come on, I’m sure you’re tired. Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

Jay sniffles. “Yeah.” He whispers, slowly unwinding, loosening his grip on Kai. “Yeah, okay.”

—

Kai wonders how many times his life is going to change. Well, he knows well enough that life is always changing—but not usually this drastically. It’s hard to believe that a few months ago he was staying up all night at Yang’s Tavern, slowly gaining the courage to drink more and more each time, grieving and depressed beyond belief. 

Now, somehow, Zane’s alive, the team is back together, and last week they all fought against a cult of snakes trying to take over the world thanks to a famous noodle restaurant that Kai used to frequent. Now, Kai has answers to questions that he didn’t know were sitting on his tongue, waiting to be asked. His powers, his father— Kai knows more about them now, more than he ever did. It’s… weird, looking back, remembering that at some point, he just didn’t know. 

Kai knows that life always throws you in weird directions, that the journey through life is always unexpected, but first master. Kai thinks he’s almost been living entirely separate lives each few months, each past one living as nothing more than a foggy memory.

There are similarities, of course. He’s still Kai through each new change, no matter how often he changes through them. Whether it’s with a tattoo, or a new hard resolve, Kai’s still himself, regardless of if that’s good or not. He still has that fight inside of him, whether it comes to him as getting back up when he's down, or a restlessness that won't go away.

There are also things that he just can’t shake, whether or not it’s looking at Nya, and remembering all too well the fear of her being captured by Samukai. Something that felt like decades ago, yet the feeling still feels new and raw inside his chest. Or whether it's something quieter, something that trails behind him, like a pair of footsteps that he leaves by old shoes that he no longer wears. Whether it's—

Sleepless nights also seem to follow Kai, whether in the Monastery, some old apartment, or the Bounty. And it’s in the Bounty that Kai’s in now—another change, he thinks, as it’s rebuilt good as new, but still unshakably different —where another sleepless night seems to have taken hold of him.

Kai's steps are quiet, careful, as he walks out into the kitchen. The Bounty smoothly flies through the peaceful night, and Kai can hear the wind whistling past the windows, and the faint hum of the Bounty's electronics.

It startles him, though, when he walks out into the kitchen and finds that he’s not the only one awake.

Jay’s leaning on the counter, a glass of water in his hand, as he looks around the room. He doesn’t flinch when Kai approaches him, nor does he say anything. He only breathes in, then takes a sip from his glass.

Kai stares at him. Jay’s been… weird, lately. Maybe Kai wouldn’t think much of it normally, shrugging off his long glances and quick apologizes as just something he’d picked up during their time apart. When they first all met up again, Jay had looked fine. He’d acted fine during the tournament, after all—loud and energetic, sharp and witty. Sure, he was a bit more bitter, especially towards Cole, but that was to be expected. Jay was still sarcastic, would still grin and laugh, and it almost seemed as if he’d coped better than all of them.

But, whether for better or for worse, Kai knows Jay better than that.

Which is why, now that they’re back in the Bounty, Kai knows for a fact that Jay’s being weird. He’d stare at the others, smile slowly fading the longer he looked. He’s quieter, distracted, as if there’s something weighing on him. Something that Kai fears he knows.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Kai manages to ask, though his voice is quiet.

Jay looks up at him, setting down his glass, and his eyes crinkle in recognition. “Something like that.” Jay whispers, smiling sadly.

Kai hums. “We haven’t really had the chance to talk,” He begins slowly, not trying to scare Jay away. “Since, you know, everything. Um, how have you been?”

Jay shrugs, half committedly. He’s silent, carefully picking his words. “Different.” He decides on, “But, well, better, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

The silent understanding, the implications being lightly thrown under Jay’s words—they still have the same weight to them as they did all those nights ago. Kai’s chest still twists, his heart still sinks.

Maybe it’s because they haven’t talked about it, because neither of them really wanted to. That night at Jay’s apartment—when Kai eventually left the morning after, they kept their conversation brief. 

Why do you want me to go so badly? Kai had asked.

Jay looked drenched in guilt, he avoided Kai’s eyes. I think I kind of hate you, Jay admitted under his breath, for keeping me here.

Kai had turned. Hate me all you want, you’re still alive, and I don’t regret a thing.

They didn’t speak much after that.

Kai would message once a day, just asking if Jay was alive, to which Jay would usually give some one word response. That turned into once a week, every other week, to not messaging much at all. Kai had gotten sick of reaching out, and Jay had never bothered to talk beyond his simple replies.

All of it feels so far away now, and yet so real. It’s something that Kai can’t see, can’t even imagine, and yet the memories weigh on him as if it was infecting the air.

“I’m glad you’re better.” Kai says finally, “I really am. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out more.”

Jay shakes his head. “You did enough,” He whispers, “enough to—well, you know.” Jay pauses, and then vaguely gestures to himself. “I’m still here, that is.”

“Yeah.” Kai agrees, “you still are.”

There’s more for Kai to say, more reassurances, more questions and answers, things that he needs to get off his chest. But tonight—tonight is quiet. Tonight, everyone is safe, everyone is alive. 

And maybe Kai can’t sleep, and maybe Jay can’t either—but when they do, Kai thinks that they can rest easy. Because things are okay now, and Kai can settle for at least an okay.

He looks over at Jay, and he takes another sip of his glass. He’s still tired, still distant, but he’s there , and Kai thinks that Jay’s settling for an okay, too.