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Harumi watches with bloodshot eyes as dirt-clad civilians pick up the broken and tattered remains of their homes. She remembers this part, the aftermath of Ninjago’s destruction when everybody comes out to help. Everyone congratulating the ninja and thanking them for their help. No one congratulates Harumi. No one did the last time she did this, either.
It’s paradoxical almost, the way she’s circled right back to the edge of an ambulance. Smoke in her lungs and blood crusting under her nails. Watching everyone work around her, picking up and moving on, while she sits quiet and still. And just like back then, all she wants is her dad there, scooping her into his arms and whispering that it’s okay. Her mom, too, with a sure squeeze of her shoulder. Telling her it’ll all be alright. That they’re gonna make it. She’d still believe her, even through the rubble and smoke.
Nobody is here to hug Harumi, though, and nobody will show up. She knows this is her fault. Would it make it better if she said she didn’t mean to? She doesn’t think so. Nothing changes. She can spill the sorry out of her guts and onto the pavement all she wants, it will still just be blood on concrete.
A girl comes by with cherry-colored hair and holds out a bottle to Harumi. “Water?” She asks, not unkindly but with no real care in it.
Harumi just nods, taking the offering with gratefulness she doesn’t really feel. Her throat is scraped dry, but that’s just how she likes it. It helps keep her tongue in her mouth. Something she’s had to practice for as long as she’s been alone. Maybe that's why she’s so different from anyone else, why she can’t stand up and try to piece back a life she’ll never get back. The images just echo through her irises and around her mind; and then it’s there, burning her up, taking her down. Just about everything becomes violent after that. Peace all left with her voice.
A loud, brash thing tugs at her vocal cords just then. Something between a scream and a sob that she’ll never be able to let out. But it keeps pulling, prickling tears behind her eyes, and she grasps for control of her body. She has to close her eyes for a moment, but she just sees it all then. Everything that’s happened, everything she has done. Her eyes shoot open at the same time she gasps, biting down on her lip to keep her heart from spilling out.
It’s blurry but that doesn’t matter, because what her eyes lock on, she would recognize blind and deaf. Just by the air alone. Lloyd’s not looking at her because he has no reason to. She wants him to anyway, selfishly. She wants him anyway. As an enemy, as a companion, as a lover. In any way she can take him.
Somewhere between the worlds of life and death, Harumi realized she just wanted him around. She woke up crushed by the weight of a boulder and the most horrific realization of her life: she was in love with the boy she hated. And don’t get it twisted, she definitely still hated him. Half of it was a habit, but the rest was solid and raw.
She was way past hating him for her parent's death-- she couldn’t blame it on him even if she wanted to. But that was worse because now the hatred was complicated. A seething burn that he wasn’t there. Lloyd has people who hug him when the city gets destroyed and Harumi never will. And even more than that, desperately and pathetically, she wants him to be the one taking her into his arms.
Knowing that he tried to search for her after her death did something terrible to her heart as well. It was easy to follow the overlord without question; he’d saved her, after all. It’s not like the ninja would have done that. But then there was Lloyd, who dug in with teeth and claws and didn’t stop til he reached bone. It was the worst and best thing about him.
Harumi thought forgiving Lloyd for not searching for her would be difficult, but it’s not half as bad as knowing he did, he just didn’t find her. Two ships passing each other in the night; always just slightly out of reach. It’s sickening. It’s unforgivable.
In the present, Lloyd lifts up a street sign and places it back in its rightful position before moving on to the next mess. He moves so smoothly you wouldn't even know how many cuts and bruises are hidden under that dumb costume. Harumi sips her water to keep her hands and mouth occupied. There’s something genuinely magical about the green ninja after a fight. His eyes a deeper shade of green, his skin glowing deep and brown. He’s so beautiful and oh, Harumi wants to tear him apart with her teeth. Mess him up a little to take the golden boy down a peg. It’s such a furious and violent sentiment, one she has often, but there’s an undercurrent of warmth that’s started to bloom there she doesn’t know what to do with.
Lloyd chats to everyone he passes, born savior he is. It's funny, Harumi thinks, how he’s probably the person she’s said the most words to in her life. Even if their time spent together was really so she could keep him close, it was so freeing she couldn’t help but be genuine. Somewhere along the line of being enemies, though, they’d both pulled back the layers so much it was just cut after cut, bite after bite. Every word created a wound that didn’t scar over. And it was still the most meaningful conversation she ever managed. Lloyd probably knew more about Harumi than she herself did, at this point. Though she’d never say that to his face.
His face. She startles, realizing those piercing green eyes have made their way straight to her. Harumi’s too shocked to look away, so Lloyd just raises a single eyebrow. A slight flush runs to her face at the realization she’s been caught staring. Hopefully he thinks she’s imagining his head on a stick. (Though— she acknowledges begrudgingly— he’s probably too smart for that.)
Lloyd makes his way over in confident, long strides; his gangly legs carrying him across a tennis court of space in seconds. It doesn’t even compute in Harumi’s mind that he’s walking towards her until he’s right there. Standing awkwardly two feet away and shifting with his arms crossed.
Harumi doesn’t say a word. Mostly because she doesn’t trust herself to not scream something stupid— like thank you or, even worse, I love you . Lloyd doesn’t fill the silence either, but his mouth is slightly parted like there’s something he should be saying, something that needs to be said, but it’s just not coming out.
Eventually, he clears his throat and recrosses his arms. Looking off to the side somewhere. Harumi's eyes stay pinned to him, searching for something. Anything. “Did Skylar bring you water?” Lloyd asks casually.
Harumi holds up the bottle in her white-knuckled grip. “Yeah.”
Lloyd nods, hair falling down over his eyes. It really is unfair how pretty he is. Harumi can feel her bangs sticking to her clammy skin, the rest of her hair knotted and crusty with blood she didn’t know the owner of. She looks a right mess, really, which is exactly how she should look after the day she’s had. Week. Months. The same logic should apply to him, but as always, the green ninja is untouchable. Fuck, she hates him.
The awkward silence resumes. Harumi lifts the drink to her lips but doesn’t sip it— blinking, she starts with realization. She sets the water down, openly staring at Lloyd with wide eyes.
“Did you ask her to?” She questions, a knot wrapped firmly in the back of her throat.
Lloyd looks at her like he’s been caught red-handed, then looks away, then looks back, then away. He scratches the back of his neck and Harumi swears she can see pink in his ears. “Uh— yeah,” He says nonchalantly.
Harumi gapes at him. “Wha— Why?”
“I don’t know,” Lloyd rushes out quickly. “I mean—,” He backtracks, eyes darting around and hands coming out to make his words even more confusing. A nervous gesture Harumi recognizes immediately. “Well, I guess you looked thirsty,” He says it like it might be a question.
Not for the first time, Harumi’s at a loss for words. She looked thirsty. Of course. It’s so characteristically Lloyd— watching her, making sure she has water, not doing it himself. Coming up to talk to her anyway.
A gnarled and gauged thing plants itself in her chest. Harumi wants to say something so badly she could vomit. Thank you probably. Hopefully, because kiss me is far too crazy.
“Woah— hey,” Lloyd jumps, waving his hands in front of her and reaching out— then pulling back sharply like he realized what he was doing. Harumi only notices she’s crying then, tears filling her waterline and blurring into her vision.
She looks away from him for the first time, gathering up her sleeves and swiping at her cheeks. The fabric gets messy with mascara and all her makeup. Holding them up, she laughs. She’s crying so hard now that snot is running down to her mouth and her laughing turns to sobs as quick as it started.
“Are you okay? I’m sorry— I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry. It’s okay, you’re okay. Are you okay?” Lloyd is babbling, trying to placate her. The urgency and fear in his voice is enough to pull a deep cry from Harumi’s lungs. First Master damnit, this is embarrassing. She’s going to hate herself for this moments after. Her sleeves make their way back to her eyes and she pushes her thumbs in and rubs them raw. Removing all the mess from them aggressively like she can get back behind the skin and scrub it off, too.
Lloyd shuts up, suddenly moving to her left and grabbing something. Harumi’s barely paying attention until there are fingers circling her wrists and tugging. She only resists for a second before letting up, blinking repeatedly to see again. Leaning down to be right in front of her, Lloyd carefully removes her hands from her face and sets them in her lap.
Harumi sniffles. Tears still come down but her body’s no longer racked with sobs, so it’s an improvement. She looks at Lloyd and he’s already looking at her.
“Hey,” He says. Just hey.
They stay like that for a minute. Or however long, Harumi can’t really tell. She registers Lloyd’s hands still on her wrists at some point, rubbing comforting circles in the juncture between her arm and hand. Harumi looks down at her lap, at their hands.
She’s watching as Lloyd lets her go and reaches for something next to her. The item ends up being a damp cloth. Harumi follows it all the way until it’s just inches from being up against her face. She looks at Lloyd like a deer in the headlights.
“Can I?” He requests so softly she can only identify it by the movement of his lips.
Harumi takes the time to look everywhere but at him. “You don’t,” She hiccups pathetically, “don’t have to do that.”
“Yeah,” Lloyd’s eyes are loud and sharply directed at hers, obviously waiting. She gives in quickly, becoming nauseous at the earnestness they convey when she finally sees them. He exhales, before firmly stating, “I know.”
The waterfall from Harumi’s eyes picks up. She parts her lips, suddenly feeling how dry her mouth is again. She nods her head in the slightest of movements, but Lloyd understands.
He lifts the cloth to her cheek, starting to remove the makeup and dirt and probably blood that’s been smeared by her crying. The touch is barely there; gentle but methodical in its ministrations.
There’s a moment where she wishes she was dreaming just so that she could do something brash and stupid. Then she immediately takes it back. No, this is too good for a dream. It’s so real it hurts. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her.
She can’t stop crying even after Lloyd’s done. He doesn’t comment on it, setting himself down next to her and leaning back on his palms. Harumi just keeps crying. She’s filled with so much guilt it bangs around her chest. She’s so in love it flows in rivers out her eyes. Everything is so overwhelming— herself, Lloyd, what he does to her, what she’s done to him. In the choice between taking it all back and doing it all again just so she can be back her, in the trunk of an ambulance with the green ninja cleaning her face, she’d selfishly and unquestionably choose the here.
Agonizingly and desperately she needs something to hold on to. Reaching out she grips onto the edge of the metal underneath her tightly. Not even a minute later a hand is on her skin, a familiar rough and angular one. Lloyd lifts her hand off the car and laces their fingers together. Harumi squeezes it immediately. Lloyd squeezes back twice.
It doesn’t take long for her to stop crying after that, her sniffles dying out slowly but surely. Lloyd stands up, but doesn’t let go of her hand.
His eyes travel around the streets around them before settling on one broken-down shop. A donut store, Harumi thinks. Must be new because she’s never been.
Lloyd looks back at her with an inquiry in his gaze. “Want to help me clean up the town?”
Harumi blinks at him skeptically. It’s not an order, but a genuine question. Like if Harumi spit on him and said no he’d just shrug it off and go by himself.
Against her will, Harumi finds herself nodding and standing up.
Lloyd smiles. Bright and shiny and handsome. Harumi thinks of tasting it as she follows him towards the shop.
"Lloyd,” Harumi pulls his hand back without warning and he spins and ends up inches away from her. She thinks she really is going to kiss him before she steps back and composes herself. A small smile on her lips. She squeezes his hand once. Twice.
“Thank you.”