• 𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝔂 • {𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐚𝐠𝐨}

•S1 Ep0 : Darkley's Boarding School For Bad Boys•

    The hoodie around your shoulders was warm and comforting in the cold, cold halls of Darkley's Boarding School. Even touching the worn, [F/C] fabric felt like a warm touch from a close friend. You certainly needed it tonight when the loud racket smashing against the thin wooden walls was too much to let you get a good night sleep.

    Yawning away the sleep from your eyes, you rounded the corner on eight-year-old feet to the source of all the noise. There were already other children in the hall, all hiding in the shadows. Some just as tired as you, some buzzed with the excitement of a fight.

    Squinting in the dim moonlight, you finally made out two outlines in a struggle. The boy still standing had thin black hair, barely ruffled. Your lip curled with distaste—Brad.

    And half on the floor, gasping for air, blond hair splayed in an unruly mess, was Lloyd Garmadon.

    He was small compared to Brad—compared to most other kids here, really—but his thin limbs still stood their ground, still refused to give up. Your chest swelled with pride, finger tightening around the strings of his favourite gift to you. That's my big brother for you.

    Brad took another swing at Lloyd, which Lloyd barely managed to avoid. Reeling back for another go, the dark-haired boy sneered, 'What's the matter, huh? Afraid we're going to find out about your secret "Grammy Donna?"' A few kids snickered from the sidelines.

    Something flickered inside you, black and hateful. Wait. Don't strike out just yet. Timing, [Y/N], timing. It's all about the timing. Your fingers played with the strings, unravelling and twisting. Maybe if I glare at him hard enough, he'll evaporate into dust.

    You played with the fantasy for a moment or two before a horrible laugh dragged you out of your thoughts. 'Too bad everyone already knows about your stupid letters,' Brad cackled, making your nose wrinkle with annoyance. 'She never even writes either of you back, huh? Hah! Like anyone'd ever actually write you back!'

    Your fingers shifted from twiddling to flexing in and out of a fist. Not yet. Do not move. Wait until there's an open spot, a weak point when Brad isn't paying attention.

    But the small whimpering noises Lloyd made with every small punch. Every giggle from the onlookers seemed to prickle into your skin, wiggling with every new whisper.

    The corners of your vision seemed to go red-white-hot with fury, with barely contained anger. Your tiny fingers pressed small crescents into your palms, your gaze never leaving your brother's.

    No matter how hard you willed it, your feet would not move.

    And when Lloyd noticed you standing there, wet dark brown-black linking to [E/C], something in you snapped.

    The urge to tear into Brad was so strong, so overwhelming, so potent that it almost made you gasp. What you were visualizing—that wasn't what you wanted. That wasn't what you wanted at all! Just enough to teach Brad a little lesson—

You didn't realize you were searing with pain until it faded away, humming with the fantasy of punching Brad. Just once, just one light touch to the face. Just enough to make him back off, just enough to make him remember it.

As Brad turned to jeer at the onlookers, something in you jolted. There was your chance. Your eyes burned, body shaking with momentary anticipation.

With all the might of an eight-year-old body, you hurled yourself into the fight and swung at Brad's face.

There was a short cry of pain, the thud of a body on the floor. You blinked down at Brad, holding his cheek and looking very, very angry. You glanced at your fist, knuckles white. Guess I hit him a little firmer than I thought.

The slight pain in your fist was nothing, though, compared to the bursts of pleasure exploding through you. 'Get up, Brad,' you demanded, suddenly smiling, suddenly energized. The hallway was very silent. 'Get up and fight me.'

    Many fights broke out at Darkley's every week, but usually, none of them ended like this.

    Brad rubbed his aching cheek, the anger in his eyes shifting to panic as the iciness of your threat finally settled in. Your staring contest lasted a few more moments before he started to scuttle away, spitting, 'I'm—I'm not backing out, I'm just tired.'

    The crowd of kids quickly dispersed after that, leaving just you and Lloyd in the moonlit hall. Your muscles ached for another fight, for the flash of fear that passed through Brad's eyes before he backed off.

    The soft touch of Lloyd's hand slipping into yours was prompt to remind you of how late it was, though, and how tired you were.

    Blinking sleepily, you rubbed at your eyes. The burning sensation had left, taking the sudden energy with it. Wordlessly, you and Lloyd stumbled back to your dorm.

    'Thanks, [Y/N],' Lloyd finally said as he climbed up the ladder to his upper bunk. 'Though I had it handled.'

    You snickered, flushing. 'OK, Lloyd,' you whispered, 'I'll pay attention on how to lie on the floor with my face on the ground. Nah, I think I wrapped up that fight pretty good.'

    The sleeve of Lloyd's hoodie smacked you in the face. Despite yourself, you coughed a laugh. 'Hey!' He pouted, 'that was my fight! I started that stupid fight with stupid Brad.'

    'This school is stupid,' You frowned, the tiniest bit of venom snaking its way into your words.

    Lloyd laughed, the bunk above you creaking as he rolled back on it. 'That's why we're going to leave someday, [Y/N]. You, me, and all of Ninjago in our hands.'

    'All of Ninjago...' you smiled up at him through the bed, blinking sleepily. Your hoodie was better than any blanket, large and puffy and smelling like warmth. He made this promise every day. 'Yeah. You and me, together.'

    The shifting of fabric and Lloyd's hand dropped over the side of the bunk, pinky extended. You could picture his grinning face whispering, 'Together?'

    Smirking, you linked your finger with his. 'Forever.'

────── 〔✿〕──────

[A.N. ??.??.????: So it begins anew.

For those of you that are new (or just went to the original and saw that it was being rewritten), there's no real need to go back and read through the old story again as it's pretty much all the same—I plan to make this much better, anyways. For those of you returning, expect to see many of the same events—formatting, however, will be slightly different and hopefully less bland than the original.

I hope to do this book like I never could before.]