Chapter Text
1.
The cuffs are firm against her wrists, the vengestone so useless it was humorous. Her wrists lay slack on the table, the will to resist and strain nonexistent. All she could do was wait.
A guard opens the door, glancing at the one-way glass for a moment before sitting down in the chair across from her, tilting the lamp away from Harumi’s face. She resists the urge to sigh, the sweat rolling down her chin irritating her skin.
“It’s morning,” the guard speaks, folding his arms over the table, eyes searching for something in her face. Harumi turns her head slightly, looking at him in return. Another pawn, another piece in a much larger puzzle. It may not be her setting and moving the pieces, but he was still another person in a system that had all but lost her respect. Clinging to their morals like spiders to a web, acting as if they weren't the problem. Raising up heroes in the world, immune to the law and the consequences of their actions. If only he could see her mind, understand the design she had drawn from the moment the Great Devourer crushed her parents. But he couldn’t, and will never know. None of them ever will.
A fly buzzes around the lamp, the hum from its wings nearly deafening against the silent room. The guard’s eye twitches slightly, his posture tensing before relaxing slightly.
“Are you ready to speak?” the guard asks softly, his eyes softer than the ones from mornings before. He sips something out a dark blue mug, drops catching on the stubble above his lip. She lowers her gaze to the table, eyes blinking steadily. Just waiting.
The officer pushes himself away from the table, his head thrown back. He covers his eyes with his hands, visibly trembling. Harumi tilts her head slightly, her unbrushed hair falling over her shoulder.
“You’re just a kid ,” he mutters, all professionalism out the window. He lets out a shuddery breath, looking back at the girl across from him. “If you would speak , we could hold a trial, stop them from sending you to Kryptarium.”
At this, Harumi’s gaze traces up, her eyes still dazed and unfocused, half-lidded. The guard presses his lips together, his eyes growing wet. The guard sighs, grabbing his cup and standing up abruptly, a splash of the dark brown liquid falling to the concrete floor. Without another word, he leaves, the door slamming softly behind him.
Harumi watches as the liquid ripples ever so slightly, somewhat absorbed into the ground. The fly buzzes to the floor, its feet rubbing together in a prayer before drinking.
Time moves slowly when you wait, always has, always will. Harumi doesn’t know what she’s waiting for. She never does. She had a plan, and it was ruined, foiled. All she could do was wait, as she is forced to do now.
It's the same as before, locked inside forced to wait for something to happen, for something to change. Before it was the Jade Palace, waiting for a chance to get close to the Ninja. Disguising want and desire with innocence and humility, nothing to do but to watch dutifully and wait, wait, wait. Switching masks every time something slipped, everytime she said a bit too much, talked a bit too loud.
Now it's more humble, waiting in an interrogation room, secluded and lonely, waiting for something to happen. Not as calculated before, not tedious as it was unpredictable. Even with silence on her side, she was uncertain of what would become of her. Locked in confinement, no rumors or passing conversations to latch on to. Just her and her thoughts and what is left of her hopes and dreams.
What would come next? An execution? Banishment? Kryptarium prison? It’ll take months, years to build the trust of the inmates in the case of the latter. It would take forever for her to be able to attempt to resurrect Garmadon again, if it was even possible now.
But if there was one thing she was good at, it was waiting in silence.
—
An array of loud noises draws Harumi’s attention, the one-way glass only reflecting her sorry self back. There are shouts that not even the soundproofing of the interrogation room can hide, anxiety creeping into her heart.
The door is kicked off of its hinges, flying into the wall behind her. A soft ‘ ah ’ escapes her throat, the force from the kick whipping her hair around her face. She leans in her chair, glancing out into the corridor. A purple glow, growing in intensity, a soft breeze circling the room, and the very air in the room growing heavy.
A chill goes through her as she stands up, her arms still chained. She takes a soft step, then another, her face barely able to withhold her smile.
When she steps out of the interrogation room, a man awaits her. His skin is black as ink, his eyes glowing red, and the helm that Harumi had memorized from history books was perched upon snow-white hair. Wrinkles that told a thousand stories carved his face, and ribs protruded from his flesh.
Harumi tilts her head up, finally letting her face relax into a smile, raising her cuffed hands up to the man, fists clenched. His red eyes survey her face, the purple glow under his skin beginning to fade.
“ Harumi .”
Harumi winces as he grabs the chain of the cuffs, allowing the metal to shatter with his touch, her wrists still shackled but no longer bound. Her hands fall to her side, and she drops to a knee, bowing.
For years, she had drank in every piece of history, every whispered rumor of his existence. When he was alive, every action he took was carefully documented, precariously studied and admired. For years, she had dreamed of this moment, to be able to stand before the man himself. And that time had finally come.
She remembered watching it on the news, waiting still. His face, wrinkled in a smile as he held up the Golden Weapons, the way he gracefully fell to his certain death for the good of the city. What had the ninja been able to do? The snake had grown bigger and bigger, consuming citizens and buildings and everything the people of Ninjago City had once held dear. And what could the ninja do? Nothing but hand the power to the brother of Wu, and wait and hope that something would happen.
He never waited. Proactive in his desires. He knew he was going to fight his son, so what did he do? He left, not waiting to watch his son grow into his enemy in front of him. He did everything he could to prevent it, taking his uncertain destiny into his own hands.
Harumi was not as strong-willed. She had nothing, had nothing but patience. When even her freedom was stripped away as she was left in the palace to rot, coming out to oversee affairs that had not even her interests at heart, all she had was patience.
The metal around her wrists suddenly felt heavier, pulling her to the ground, the gravity of it all finally sinking in. This was him . The Lord of Destruction. The King of Shadows. Him. Not a fake poser, an overly ambitious child in a costume. The man himself .
She felt as if she couldn’t breathe. It was finally happening. She was finally able to meet her savior, the hero of Ninjago. No more waiting idly, hoping that the tides would turn in her favor. No more whispering amongst the shadows, manipulating things to go your way. No more masks, no more deception. Finally , she got her reward.
She raises her head, eyes searching his face for any sign that it's a fluke, a mistake. But the only thing she saw was his glowing red eyes staring back at her, waiting for her to speak. Finally, waiting for her .
She bows her head reverently once more, mouth curving into an uncontrollable grin. Her pulse quickens, and her palms grow moist, her vision swimming.
“Hello, Garmadon.”