Always a Need for a Ninja | Ninjago Oneshots

{UNNAMED}- Tools (Prologue)

Word count: 919

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The sword dropped to the dust yet again, stained yet glittering in the burning sun. Simple, but deadly. A warrior's sword. A noble warrior's, the boy was sure, that struck true and head on. Not like those tricky ninja and their need to conceal every move and motive. 

Lloyd quickly lost track after the first few days of the secrets held far out of reach. Uncle Wu (the words felt just as foreign and disjointed as the ones he would have used towards his parents) held his tongue, slow to speak and even to trust. At least he smiled often at his nephew, although just as many smiles might twist into something more bitter. (Years later Lloyd discovered this expression to be regret rather than disappointment, but it stung regardless). His suspicion barely scratched his students refusal to interact with the young boy. Kai, the fiery one, risked a few glares before settling on quiet indifference. Even Zane, the oddest but evidently friendliest, did not divulge more than the barest information.

And they think they have a good reason to be suspicious. How am I supposed to prove myself in anything if I don't get a chance?

Apparently chance only presented itself in the face of taking action in the first place. After all, hadn't Nya done just that? The recent appeal of the Samurai couldn't have been a coincidence, not while the supposed mysterious warrior appeared to fend off the Serpentine before the ninja could arrive at the scene. Coincidentally, the girl would smile sweetly and tell him some obvious excuse.  Lloyd decided immediately that no one's eyes sparkle with such excitement and determination when announcing a trip to find a new wrench or scrap together another engine panel, not even Nya.  

When the mech first whizzed past the Bounty, Lloyd barely kept from jumping up and down, secretly thrilled for the older girl's success. Though instead of proudly announcing herself to have outdone all four ninja, Nya continued her path of honor with nearly as much secrecy as the others.

Maybe a little secrecy doesn't always hurt, Lloyd told himself when Nya anxiously said just that before bidding him to silence. Not that he would ever bother to tell anyways. They were too similar: too young, too easily dismissed, too easily doubted. Nya promised to teach him, even. Lloyd wasn't entirely sure whether she meant as a samurai or something else. It didn't matter.  Anything but living as the bratty orphan everyone assumed still lurked beneath, the kid who would never live up to any form of potential (good or evil).

 Her promise vanished into thin air when both of them lost their freedom. Rather, Nya lost her anonymity, while he was pulled into a prophecy he never chose (and never would have chosen).  He cried when everyone had left, curled into a ball and weeping uncontrollably: for himself mostly, but also his father, and everything that ever could have been.  Like choosing his own fate for a change, not being passed around between people and places like a sack of old potatoes.

Wait! he almost shouted, every time "Green Ninja" was muttered.  Reverence, disgust, excitement, disappointment, hatred, curiosity; all the same.  This isn't me, don't make me into something I'm not!  Just because I fit doesn't mean I belong.  I can't do this.  

But they were counting on him, for a role he knew nothing about.  His panic dulled into acceptance at the very thought.  No one ever counted on him, he should embrace the opportunity to walk proudly across the creaking boards of the Bounty, clothed in an eye-melting green long envied by others who actually sought the legacy.  Now the others spoke to him often, suddenly eager to accept one of their own.  His Uncle eyed him with such high hopes that the hint of fear in the old man's eyes sent chills down Lloyd's spine.  Yes, a whole world was counting on a child to grow into a gi that pooled around his skinny arms and legs and tripped him half of the time when he ran to help the others.

Nya trained harder than ever, and sometimes, when neither of them were masquerading as the people they were not, he watched her.  Her strength had grown considerably, though the repeated strokes of the blade slipped into a stiff kind of trance.  When he raised a worried eyebrow, she smiled reassuringly.  

Until danger called, and she leapt into the mech as the ninja watched.  Then Lloyd rolled up his cuffs and dutifully offered to help, an offer that would be constantly refused at first and later required.  

The first day of training, actual training, not him being left to his own devices, Kai handed him a sword.  It was made fine enough, if he was any judge, and the group appraised him with the weapon as one and the same.  Designed to cut away threats, then be polished carefully and stuffed back into the sheath until needed.  Right then and there, he hated the sword and all it stood for.  Hated how Nya's face turned into a blank mask when it was her turn to fight and all eyes were on her, the girl and not simply the samurai.  Hated the uncertainty that flickered on each of the chosen four's faces when a new challenge stripped them of an identity aside from their colored gi and respective elements.

 The sword weighed his hand down, and he paused to wonder whether his new burden would weigh even more heavily.