Ninjago and Beyond (Beyblade Burst x Ninjago)

Cinnamon Rolls

Monastery of Spinjitzu
Ken's POV
The next morning, I woke up to find my bandaged arms laying beside me instead of elevated in slings. My parents must have followed PIXAL's instructions about taking them out at midnight; I must have drifted off sometime after her visit. I lifted the limbs and gently ran my fingers down the wrappings. No pain. Absolutely no soreness. PIXAL really is amazing, I thought in wonder as I raised my arms closer to my face, awed at the fact that not a spec of discomfort followed the action.

I accidentally brought my limbs too close to my face, and I heard the rasp of bandages on bandages. With everything going on coupled with my currently limited field of vision, I had completely forgotten that my face had been injured as well. I fingered my wrappings there and discovered that it was mostly large patches, with one long strip stretched diagonally across my face. I brought my fingers down the length of my body, finding even more bandages, some even creeping under the edges of my boxers.

Yet pain didn't follow my fingers.

Exactly how bad was it? I thought when I found wrappings down where my sprained ankle had been. I had known about my ankle, my fractured arms, my cut face and knees, my sore back, along with the additional damage William had dealt, but this seemed like a lot more bandages than those injuries recommended. There was wrapping where I wasn't even aware I had been injured. Just how much did the tea have to heal?

I wriggled on my mattress slightly, testing my muscles. Nothing flared up at me, so I tried pulling back the covers and getting out of bed. The bottoms of my feet tingled as they met the cool tatami floor, though I was miraculously able to keep my balance as I stood up. My toes dribbled against the floorboards until I was somewhat sure that I could walk and managed a few tentative steps.

I saw green out of the corner of my eye, and my gaze traveled the length of the floor until I found its source. A quiet cry of joy fell out of my mouth when I saw my green coat and pants folded neatly on an open chair. The last time I had seen either item of clothing, they both had been stained and soiled beyond recognition, but someone had taken the time and effort to wash every blemish out of their fabric. Fresh stitches even decorated the edges of patches over the pants' knees.

Those stitches and the nearly perfect restoration of my clothing... I could recognize my mom's handiwork anywhere. I looked at her now, sleeping beside my dad in their respective chairs. Her head was on his shoulder, his head on hers. They looked so peaceful, at ease in each other's partial embrace. The entire picture was just so UNBELIEVABLY cute and I was struck with the urge not to wake them, if only to keep them this peaceful for a little while longer. I also wished that I had a camera with me.

My bladder lurched in my abdomen, and I realized that I hadn't used the bathroom in the past THREE DAYS; the soup I had drank yesterday was coming around. I probably didn't need to be wearing so many bandages anymore, anyway. With one last glance at the adorable picture that was my sleeping parents, I swiped my clothes off of the chair and tiptoed over to the door.

I slid it open and glanced cautiously out into the hall, both ways. No sounds that indicated someone was in the immediate vicinity. The light was still soft outside - maybe no one was up yet. I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn't ready to explain myself yet.

Memory guided my steps to another door not too far down the hall from my room. It opened into a spacious bathroom that sadly only had one toilet and one shower. Enough to contain a handful of people, though thankfully empty at the moment. I laid my change of clothes on the marble counter and headed to the toilet. After I was done with my business, I went to the sink to wash my hands. Only then did I look up at my reflection in the mirror.

And gasp.

It appeared like I had a double sided white arrow on my face - a bandage strip ran from my right cheek to right above my left eye, marked on either side by triangular patches of bandages. That must've been where William scratched me. Even more band-aids marked the arrow's perimeter like stark white stars. I thought back to all the times I had something run into my face back at the Pizzaplex and grimaced. This amount of bandages seemed reasonable.