drawn home | Ninjago Jay

Part 1

He'd change it all if he could. He'd go back to before he left, before he escaped, and he'd stay right where he was. He was better off there. He was less confused, less hurt, less scared. He at least had some purpose.

He considered The Administration hell. He couldn't do anything for himself, all he had to do was sit in his office and file papers, not that he ever did that anyway. He was exhausted constantly, in hiding, bored.. It was useless. He'd left in hope of finding out more about himself. About where he came from. About what his powers were. It was too dangerous to stay there.

But if he could go back, he would've stayed. He would've done his job, kept his head down, and used his computer for research instead of video games. Sure, he'd have to hack the system to give him access to the wifi, but with his lightning that could've been easy, right? It would've been so much easier than now..

He'd finally thought he was worth something when Ras recruited him for his Tournament team. He'd finally thought he'd found his place in the world. He was lied to?

Who was telling the truth?

When Ras sent him away, he was told to wait around the Tournament grounds. He was told to wait because Ras would take him back, teach him more, build him up so he could get revenge on the ninja that kicked him, yet as much as that's what he wanted before his fight, before Ras removed him, it wasn't really what intrigued him anymore. It wasn't what was calling his name.

After a few nights setting up camp outside the grounds, living in fear he'd be found and Ras would be more disappointed, he came to the realisation. Ras hadn't ever really wanted him, had he?

He'd taken a deep breath, stood in the middle of the forest and thought. If he was truly going to find out the truth about himself, he needed to find somewhere, someone, he had a true connection to. He needed to find his home.

Though, that was easier said than done with no memories or company.

He closed his eyes, took a moment to himself, and as soon as he felt something, a direction he was supposed to go in, he started walking. Then he didn't stop.

He kept heading in that direction for days. Weeks .

He passed numerous villages, none he seemed to have a strong connection with, though somewhere in the back of his mind there was a sense of familiarity about them. Perhaps he'd seen them when he was working. The first place he'd passed through was only small, with a few buildings here and there, but also housed a large tavern. He stopped by to eat, hydrate, and rest. Then he continued on his way.

Another few days passed until he saw another village, though this time he was sure it was a town. It seemed familiar again. He'd received a few odd looks from some of the residents, but he ultimately didn't recognise them. Once he hydrated and rested, he continued on.

It was a loop for days. It felt somewhat repetitive but it kept him alive, it kept him going. As long as he'd come out of this with a sense of himself, it'd be worth it.

It wasn't until a week after he'd left the Tournament grounds that someone actually talked to him as if they knew him. It was only a little kid, someone in another village he vaguely recognised, but it definitely did startle him. They waffled on and he'd managed to escape quickly, telling the kid he had someplace to be. They called him a hero. He wasn't sure why.

As awkward as the interaction was, it provided him with the idea to disguise himself. If he wanted to remain hidden until he found something, or someone, he felt a connection to, he needed to avoid every other distraction. He needed to avoid everyone else.

He found a shop that sold warrior attire. He found fresh robes, something more comfortable, though still sticking to his usual colour scheme. He also acquired a navy straw hat to provide some more discretion. It'd be much harder for people to see his face with it.