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Walker didn’t know why he was still there, honestly. There was just something about their little monastery, about its creaky wood floors and long winding hallways and spooky noises at night that made the knot in his chest ache.
It was a something from the person he used to be. He knew it.
Of course, the ninja of the monastery insisted that it was too. Their eyes still light up at the sight of him, because apparently he, (or some doppelgänger, a theory that no one else wanted to even give the time of day) was a ninja too. The blue one, in fact.
Which was ridiculous. They already had a Blue Ninja.
Walker thinks he likes the Blue Ninja best. He has tanned skin scattered with moles, hazel eyes, and long dark hair. He thought he’d had more blue when they’d first met, but now he isn’t so sure. He was well-built, with strong shoulders and lean muscle, as well as being taller than him. He’s pretty sure that he’s his dream girl.
When Walker told him that, he’d rolled his eyes and said something about yins and yangs. When he didn’t know what he was talking about, he’d gone silent for a moment — before huffing and tugging him down the monestary’s halls.
Of course he followed him.
“We’re here at… A room with a bed in it.” Walker announced.
Ahead of him, the Blue Ninja rolled his eyes. “My bedroom.”
“Naturally.”
”I want to prove that I know you. I’m sick of it.” He shook his head. “I have concrete proof.”
Walker raised a brow. “I don’t think that you can logic your way out of this, ninja. Good effort though.”
The Blue Ninja’s eyes flared. Then the sea of hazel calmed, if just for a second. “Take off your jacket.”
“Oh, so forward! At least buy me dinner first!” Walker snarked, shrugging off his suit jacket immediately.
”Your arm,” the ninja pointed. “I know how you got that scar.”
“Really,” Walker said as he held up his right arm. “You know how this happened?”
The Blue Ninja cocked a brow. “Of course I do, Jay.”
“Agent Walker,” he said automatically. Then, studying the web of pale lichtenberg marks, ran his hand down the bare skin of his forearm. “Tell me, Blue Ninja?”
“Nya.” He sighed. His olive-toned hand joined his. At some point they’d both sat down on the bed, facing each other. “You got this from the Staff of Forbidden Spinjitsu.” Nya tilted his head, smiling distantly. “You had gloves, Pixal made you gloves, specifically so you wouldn’t shock anybody — but you hated wearing them! Something something, restricting your flow? Anyway.” He took Walker’s hand, rubbing his thumb against his knuckles. “We never thought that the first person you shocked would be yourself.”
“Hm.” Walker liked that story. Nya should keep talking. He held up his other arm, noting two pale scars around his wrist. “What about these two?”
Nya took his wrist in his hands and Walker froze, shock-still. It was the warmest point in his body, wherever Nya touched him. “Probably a sparring accident. I think Lloyd accidentally nicked you really bad? Kid was apologizing for a month.”
“And this one?”
Nya moved his hand further down his arm. “Inventing accident? I think?”
“This one?”
Again. “Stray shuriken from Zane.”
“What about that one?”
“Really bad cat scratch.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Walker huffed. “Possible-Past-Ninja-Me, emphasis on the Possible, was part of an elite fighting force like you ninja were supposed to be, I doubt he would’ve gotten a scar from something as silly as a cat. I mean—“
Nya laughed, his voice ringing out like a bell. Then, the Ninja leaned in closer, tilting his head to the side slightly. His loose, long hair cascaded down his lean, finely-muscled shoulders. His hazel eyes glittered amusedly. His hand was still resting on Walker’s bicep. “You’d be surprised.”
His voice died in his throat suddenly. Heat flooded Walker’s face. “I—“
And he smiled. Nya cocked an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“N-Nothing…!”
The ninja moved even closer to Walker’s face, so close that their noses were almost touching. To avoid his warm hazel, Walker dropped his eyes to the slightest scar across Nya’s nose. Then, traitorously, his eyes fell a little further, down to his lips. Shit.
Systems flooded, Walker began to tremble.
Nya’s flirty facade dropped in an instant. He backed up and gave Walker a couple feet, snatching his (warm, no, no don’t go) hand away from his arm. “First Master, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. I’m so sorry.”
And really, Walker should’ve been the one who was sorry. Not to the ninja, of course, but to the Administration, who he owed his entire life to. By letting himself live with these people, get close to these people, he was not only betraying but insulting the very systems and bureaucracy that kept the entire world running. When was the last time he’d even thought about that? Typed in a report? Filled out a form?
(Well… it’s not like he did much of that when he was in the Administration.)
(And the life the Ninja had constructed to fool him was nice, even if it was a lie.)
(He liked the people here too.)
“J—Walker?”
He blinked. “Yes?”
Nya’s dark brows were furrowed. A crumpled worry line snaked its way between them. “You’ve been quiet — are you alright?”
“Hmf.” Walker readjusted his button-up. “I have never been better.”
“Okay…”
“And I want to hear more stories.”
“Oh.” Nya pursed his lips. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.” Walker scoffed. Very pointedly, he moved himself closer to Nya on the bed. When he looked up again, their faces were barely a couple feet apart.
Nya’s eyes were ever closer now. Walker could see a swirling sea reflected in them. Fascinating. “Tell me more.” The agent demanded.
The ninja rolled his eyes. “If you insist.” He ghosted a hand on the middle of Walker’s chest — a voice in the back of Walker’s mind pleaded for Nya to actually touch, to feel the brand of his fingers there, not just the inviting ghost of one — where a star-shaped scar laid underneath his shirt. “Here is where we had an inventing accident when we were really young, and this engine exploded. I have a scar from it too.” With his other hand, Nya tugged his loose t-shirt to the side, exposing his scar fully, nestled amongst his collarbone.
Walker’s heart pounded. Nya was right, without even knowing. He did have one there, “You don’t say.”
His hands found his way up to the agent’s face. Bold and calloused thumbs glided across his freckled cheeks. “On our first real date, quote unquote, you were pricked by a snake skeleton that made you turn into a snake person yourself.” A single press of a thumb on his lips, and then it was gone. “You still have the fangs to prove it.”
He hummed, absentmindedly running his odd split tongue over his strange pointed fangs. “And if I believe you?”
“Strange thing to make up, wouldn’t you say?” Nya didn’t stop in his motions. He knew his freckles better than anyone else.
Walker leaned into Nya’s hands. “Probably.” Then, impulsively, put his hands over the other’s, keeping them on his face. “Tell me about you.”
Nya sighed, tiptoeing the best he could through the Monastery's dark halls: avoiding the creakiest floorboards with ease. He entered the kitchen, pulling out their kettle and filling it with water from the tap. He set it back on the cooktop. He turned it on. It was second nature.
The water elemental looked away for the kettle’s benefit, even though he could still see the motion of the water in there, in his own fucked up way.
The cooktop grew hotter, making the water bubble and thrash about, and Nya could feel its thrashing in his head, turning into a swirling whirlwind, a tumultuous sea, the repetitive motion of waves crashing, tossing his brain around like it was nothing, like he was nothing—
Nya blinked. The kettle was whistling now.
He moved it off the hot cooktop and busied himself with a mug and tea from the cabinets. He poured the hot water into the mug and dropped his peppermint tea bag in.
He fell back into himself. He was in the kitchen. It was late at night — early in the morning. In front of him was his steeping tea. Nya took a deep breath, and held it, just for a moment or two, before sighing. Here he was. He was in the monastery. He was safe. Everyone was safe.
Jay… was safe too. Kinda.
Nya wanted to shout. Smash something. Throw his stupid mug across the room. Everyone. They’d gotten everyone. Kai, Lloyd, Zane, Cole, Pixal, Master Wu — even some new additions, too — and they’d all been safe and unharmed. In the right state of mind. Themselves.
Nya’d felt for a long time that he was nothing but a puppet for destiny, dragged about by the next big thing — the Ninja’s Backup, Water Ninja, Resistance Leader — but he’d beat that. Nya had stared down the impossible task of coming back from elemental totality and clawed his way to the land of the living entirely on his own. He remembered himself. He chose to go back. He’d broken free.
His tea had finished. He took the tea bag out, moving the mug in a circular motion and feeling the liquid spin around inside.
Nya took a sip.
The fresh and familiar taste burst across his tongue, mint at odds with the heat.
He snuck back the same way he came, nursing his tea as he walked. With a steady hand, he slowly pushed his bedroom door open, conscious of its creaking.
Inside, curled up on one side of Nya’s bed, was Agent Walker.
(He wasn’t Nya’s Jay.)
His face was much gentler now that he was asleep: brows unfurrowed, worry lines gone, mouth slightly open as he snored. With his hair free of its gel and his suit jacket and button up gone, Nya could’ve easily mistaken him for the Jay he lost five years ago.
(He certainly still hoarded pillows the same.)
Once Nya got his mind off of all the Administration bullshit, Agent Walker had acted a lot like Jay too. Flustering easily, leaning into his touch, even rambling — not to mention the rapt attention he’d paid when Nya went on about his own life, entwining their hands and going on about his favorite mecha anime and robot fighting shows. Even when his eyelids started to droop, Walker had demanded that Nya keep talking, and who was he to deny him.
(Jay wasn’t here. He wasn’t. He wasn’t.)
Nya sat down on the opposite side of the bed from the agent, and drained the rest of his tea. Setting the chipped mug on his nightstand, the ninja let himself fall into his old routines. He pulled the covers up over himself and shuffled across to the other side of the bed, where the other lay.
Nya started off with a gentle glide of his hands across the agent’s bare back, and when that didn’t disturb him, got closer — weaving his arm underneath Walker’s armpits and holding him. Against his better judgment, Nya leaned in and pressed a couple of chaste kisses on Walker’s freckled shoulders.
This made Walker shift a little, muttering something underneath his breath and turning a little to face the ninja. His eyes still hadn’t opened, but his face was furrowed in confusion. “Nya?”
“Yes—?” He cut himself off before the Jay? left his lips. Nya leaned back a little, though his arms were still wrapped around the other’s tummy. “I’m here.”
“Hmf.” Walker smiled, a slight little thing, burrowing himself back into Nya’s pillows and covers. “Kiss goodnigh’?”
At once, the familiar mixture of exasperation and affection surged back. “Of course.” Nya rolled his eyes and gave him a quick peck on his jaw. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” He echoed back. Then, as Nya felt himself slip closer and closer to unconsciousness: “Love you.”