Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’d been a little over two weeks since Rogue had arrived at the Monastery. Those two weeks were filled with him kicking his feet up on their couch, stuffing his face with any and everything that tasted pleasant enough.

Occasionally the Ninja would visit him but would end up leaving the room with all their energy drained. The living room contrasted what used to fulfil its purpose, due to Rogue. 

Yet he knew he couldn’t stay trapped inside all day. Not when one persistent person would not stop visiting him. Even after the harsh treatment, the scoffs and tuts, the dismissive words, she still came pouring back into the room with either a strained smile or a saddening one.

It was more than infuriating, even more so when she would brush up against him on the couch, speaking to him with a soft tone before growing agitated at his impolite attitude. Somedays she would lean in, fluttering her eyelashes—as if she was trying to hypnotise him. He hated how his cheeks would flare up, and despised how she was somehow causing a physical reaction. 

He couldn’t stand the idea of seeing her today. All of their interactions slowly began to build up over the days and it felt as if she was luring him into a trap with her face, her voice, her lies.

Before she could enter the living room, he had whisked himself away. Rogue was sprawled across a hill outside the Monastery grounds, unmoving like a man would after being slain.

Nature was unappealing at the moment for him. The breeze fluttered between his greasy locks, the pointy ends of grass tickling his waist, and even the sunlight gleamed across his freckled cheeks. It was all so intruding.

It was better than being distracted by her. 

It was peaceful. Until it wasn’t.

“What are you doing out here?” A voice disrupts his silence. He recognises the shadow looming over, hiding the sunlight, he can even identify that smell that clogs the regular freshness of the breeze. 

Rogue opened his mouth, ready to snap out a witty response, but faltered. He hadn’t picked up on her sneaking up on him.

She really was a crafty, sneaky Ninja. 

Absentmindedly, he responds with a half-hearted response, “Nothing.”

“I wouldn’t have expected you to come outside, you’ve been indoors for so long just lazying around on that couch. I almost thought your legs had run away.” Nya teases playfully, but it goes unanswered.

She repeats his previous response, taunting him from the sound of her tone. “Nothing, huh?”

“Nothing.” He snaps back, glaring forward. Yet he could feel the harshness of his eyebrows begin to simmer, and it came to a halting stop as his eyes flickered back to her.

Her raven hair ponytail was drooped over the side of her shoulder, her lipstick shined where the sun met them, and she looked…

She met his gaze, pausing his search for a word that would fit her description, a word that would do her enough justice whilst not showing any signs of weakness—or attraction. 

“Are you okay?”

This is why he refused to look at her before.

Dismissively, he waved her off, hiding the blush that began to cover his scarred cheeks. “I just need a moment.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” She leapt forward within a second, a look of clear worry painted across her face. It pained him to see it, but he also resented that very look. It wasn’t for him. Well, it was for the old him.

“Nothing! God, I can’t just have a moment to myself huh?! You Ninja just have to stick your heads into everything, even if it’s absolutely nothing!” He tuts, waving an arm in her direction scornfully.

From the corner of his eyes, he could just about make out the loss of hope in her arms, as she fell back to her once comfortable position. That look of concern morphed into something recognisable.

He’d seen that exact look across her face, a look that he would have identified as sorrow and loss, but she was a Ninja. What did she have to lose? Why was she bearing the weight of sorrow?

She pushes her lips inwards, licking them nervously before leaving a tiny gap between them. There’s a moment of silence that builds expectantly, a wall that suffocates her—or so it seems.

Rogue doesn't understand how she could sit there so casually as if she wasn't suffocating his soul, as if she wasn't drowning out any logical reasons from the waves of her essence. Yet he knows the plans that she's devised are working, every single one of her schemes is taking effect. 

He knows this because, within seconds, his hands are on her, crowding her in. Nya blinks rapidly, her messy strands from her fringe now covering her expressive eyebrows and Rogue takes her in. He stares at her, watching as her lips part—how she practically pleads for this closure—and how her eyes beg—how she’s still drowning within her ocean of loss, the loss of her Yang.

However, his eyes are occupied on her lips now, his pupils forever loitering on the way they look similar, to something he’s seen before, tasted, touched before—but their lips, everyone has lips. Not hers though.

Hers are different. They aren't like other lips he's touched out of pure lust, not like other mouths he's kissed to please strangers who were only looking for a one-night stand. Everything about her is different; from her eyelashes, to her nose, to the way her feet squirm in between his. Nya's appearance has been embedded in his mind, ever since that fierceness of her was unleashed during the Tournament.

He hates it, hates how he views her lips differently from ones he's previously tasted. He despises how he wishes to know how different she tastes, how she'll wrap her arms around his neck, or perhaps his waist or maybe she'll let her hands tremble above his body, scared to lay her slim fingers on his wrecked self. 

Even so, none of this prevents Rogue from diving in, harshly, chasing after the look of lust—a look of love—that he pleads she’ll hold for him. And not who she believes Jay Walker is.

His hand rushes towards the back of her waist, gripping tightly whilst his other hand pushes her defiantly closer towards him, whilst losing his focus on the strands of hair on her neck.

All of his questions have been answered, how her taste differs from the ones he had devoured before. How he’s aware that physically there is no difference—she’s the same as everyone else, he could find someone with the same lip shape, shade and taste and still only be thinking about how hers is so unique. How Nya’s lips can’t compare to anyone else’s, how Nya cannot be replaced.

It’s not fair though. It’s cruel for her to barge into his life and make a fool of his shrivelling heart, how she stomps across his ego—all that pride that he had built up over the years. In reality, she’s just a lady. A lady who he had never met before, just a lady who might have a little crush on him or just scheming to use him for her selfish desires.

However, she’s still a woman who has stolen the remaining hopes, the embers of his heart and the last echoes of temptation that cause impulsive actions. He can’t help but want more. 

Rogue’s lips are pressing bitterly on hers, draining all of the love she’s eagerly lending him. He’s begging to suck out all of her goodness, to leave her dry like a vampire would after their prey. On the other hand, he wants to keep her around, knowing that she has more to give.

Nya has made her step into his mind, showing that she wasn’t just a lady who pleaded to get the man she loved back, but a Ninja with a stubborn attitude and an endless heart.

She’s been invading his thoughts, and his privacy and Rogue is fairly certain she had the same effect on his old self. She must have, she was so alluring. Breathing much more deeply through his nose, he carries on with his lips on hers, losing all the thoughts that would be racing through and finding himself pushing even closer, pleading for more. 

Until she yanks her head back, her curls slipping out of his fingers. 

“Jay- wait. Hold on.” She waves her hands frantically in front of him, shaking her head whilst her cheeks blossom a flushed red, now matching with the taint of red across her lips.

“What?” He bites back, his temper burning away as he snatches breaths of air, unapologetically.

“This isn’t like you. Just, take a few deep breaths.” Her eyes flicker towards him, and there’s that look again, but it’s mixed with hope.

And Rogue almost wants to punch his old self. He wants to curse at himself for falling for the schemes of this woman and he wants to dive right back to this woman’s lip once more.

What he really does is push her back, abruptly shoving her out of his reach and back into the grass that intruded on their moment. 

“You don’t know me.” He seethes, spitting at her face.

The way her face moulds into a look of confusion, towards anguish has given him the answer he didn’t exactly need, but expected. She doesn’t believe that this is coming from him, because she doesn’t know who Rogue is.

Nya doesn’t know who he is, and she certainly doesn’t like him either.

The whole time the two had been stuck together, it was always followed by some sort of scheme to form him back into someone he used to be. Or back into someone he would despise, for her gain. Just like the others.

“I know who you used to be.” She whispers gently, so softly as if she was trying to hide that revelation with the dust of the wind. That’s not like her.

For the past week, she has been scoffing, essentially screaming at him with proof that she knew who Jay Walker once was. 

Rogue whips his head in her direction, observing how her face pinches into a soft expression. She looks…

As if on instinct, her hand reaches out to him, hovering over the dusty sleeves of his new suit. A suit that’s starting to smell from the amount of procrastinating he’s been doing at the Monastery. 

“Yeah, and you liked HIM. Is that what you're trying to say?” His eyes glower, an annoyance bubbling within his veins. She didn’t want him for who he was, she wasn’t trying to get to know him. She only wanted the man he used to be, or once pretended to be. “How do you know I wasn’t just faking it? How do you know that you truly knew who he used to be?”

The remark he makes is cold. He admits it may have been an overstep as she scrunches up her eyebrows, a dimple appearing beside her lips pulling that simple contemplating expression—one that Rogue is sure she would have pulled many times with him.

“I loved you for who you were, and I still love you. No matter who you are, faking or not.” 

The words that spill from those cherry lips are so cliché. Rogue’s certain he’s heard them from a movie he watched only this week. His mind is pressing for him to tut, to turn his head and to leave her alone with her heart tumbled in the scatter of the dead grass.

His heart is saying otherwise. A heart that Rogue was certain didn’t speak and didn’t beat.

“So if you met me, without any of that bullcrap about me being a Ninja. Would you still try this hard to ‘save me’?”

Rogue knows this answer, he can hear the words echoing, thrashing against his ribs and squeezing his now-beating heart dry. 

“Even if I didn’t know you, I would have tried something.” The response is bland, it’s not what his ears pick up. Rogue listens to the hidden meaning where he’s being rejected, where it’s not Rogue that she wants, but rather that irritating Jay Walker. “Ninja never quit,” she adds.

“Nice lines, what movie did you pick those up from again? Or let me guess, is that some tacky rubbish the Ninja, Jay Walker, spewed out?”

“No. That’s what we told each other, it's what I told you and what you told me.” 

“I told you already—” He’s feeling the rise of frustration. Nya’s not listening to him, or choosing to ignore the obvious signs of the fact that Rogue is not Jay. He’s nothing like Jay Walker. He’s not goofy, their humours are distorted. 

“You’re not him, I know.” She finishes it for him though, sinking her fingertips into the truth of her own words.

Nya falls silent, with a thud filling the space. Her hair is spread messily across the grass, tangled between some daises and the verdant green grass, that’s beginning to grow back from the water seeping from her palms.

Her eyes finally meet his, her chocolate bright eyes, filled with determination, and hope but filled with a different kind. Something his electric one didn’t fully understand before.

“But you’re still similar.”

“You’re only saying that out of ignorance.” 

“Ignorance or not, I still want you. Even if you’re not the man I fell in love with, you’re still similar. You still make the same horrible puns, still smile at the same catastrophic events, you still chew your lip when you have nothing to say.” 

“That’s so—” 

“Unoriginal?” She finishes it off for him, lifting her head to meet his distant eyes.

“I want the love of my life back, I want you. You want your memories, we want the same thing.” She bargains, inching close, stepping into territory that was once so familiar.

“No.”

Her lips are sealed, but her eyes speak a confusion of words that are locked between her teeth. 

“No, I don’t want those memories back. I have my memories. I have everything I need. I don’t need you, I don’t need your memories and I certainly don’t want them either.” He spits out abhorrently, as if every word he uttered just now was the truth he felt and the only truth. As if this was the real him, this was Rogue—no more sweetness would be slipping from his unfinished jokes.

“Jay wait.”

“Rogue.” He cuts her off, finishing off any remains of hope that resonated within her. “I’m not Jay. I’m Rogue.”

“Please.” Nya’s pleading, verbally pleading. It causes Rogue’s breath to hitch because he’s never heard her speak so desperately, to ask him of anything this heavy.

She’s been poking her head over the wall she’s built around the new version of himself occasionally. However, she’s never plunged herself this far—this deep.

There were moments where the two enjoyed living vicariously through the scenes in a movie, or where she would bring him food, or turn on his favourite video game. Sparking a contrast, there were moments where she shunned him out, due to his coldness or the banter that Rogue found comical. She would whisper under her breath how Jay wouldn’t pull such a ‘prank’, or she would squint her eyes, pulling a disappointed expression.

A subtle facial expression, that almost looked disdainful.

Rogue wants to bark out a rude remark, or just a careless “what?” He wants to, needs to, but doesn’t.

Her pupils are dilated, speaking volumes without needing to mumble anything. “Rogue.” The words sound so distant, her tone fights the distance of his new name. Nya’s trying to hide her discomfort with the name—trying, but fails miserably.

“Nya.” Her name feels enlightening on his tongue, how the letters begin to slip out of his mouth. It feels right to say it, it feels as if he’s found a missing piece that can fill up his soul. That she is the reason why he’s been missing in the first place.

No, this is exactly what she wants. She wants to lure him in, she wants to captivate him and trick him, to force him into someone he isn't, to someone he can't be, to someone he despises.

Rogue began to shake his head vigorously as if he were snapping the shackles of her captivation on him.

"I just want-"

He cuts her off the second the word, "want", echoes in his brain. "I'm going inside. It's cold." He bluntly interrupts, striding backwards with a waft of air following timidly behind him.

He peers behind him for a glance, watching how her shoulders drop entirely. She's allowing the knife of the wind to graze her cheeks, letting the dying grass circle around her, entrapping her to the position she's frozen to.

The very image makes Rogue want to turn back, to apologise to her and ask what she wanted, to bend to her fingers. Some part of him wants to craft himself into the man she loves and another part—a more raging part—shrivels up out of disgust at that very thought.

"Come inside." The words slip from his cracked lips before he can string them into a coherent thought. "Or don't. I don't care." He adds, finally shoving off the remains of her touch before heading inside.

He doesn't look back. She remains looking forward.

Chapter Text

He’s been avoiding her.

It’s abundantly clear.

Clear to him, to her, and to everyone awkwardly observing them.

Every time she pops her head into the kitchen, Rogue rushes out, with his grip on the crumpled bag of Ninja Chips tightening. When Nya decides to visit him in his designated spot—the couch—he slumps right back up and mindlessly trots to the bathroom, where he spends the rest of his time until he hears footsteps leaving. 

Rogue’s been doing anything and everything to ignore her and it’s been working, miraculously. Not only has he been avoiding her, he’s been avoiding—and ignoring—any topic regarding her.

Zane asking if his heart rate increases whenever he’s around her? Blanked. Cole questioning his feelings towards her? Eyes rolled. Lloyd hinting towards what they could be like together? Slurped juice louder. Kai curious to know his intentions with her? Kicked off the couch.

At some point, they stopped asking and resorted to melding their faces into disapproving looks with eyebrows that quivered with sympathy. 

To Rogue, it was admiring, and the freckled man relished in this new feeling—defeat. On the other hand, Nya resorted to overlooking their painted faces and the silence of their words, how their hopelessness carried heavier than any mountain.

If this were a fight, she was losing. Not only losing the battle, but losing the look of the reward, missing the ability to reap in the achievements.

She was failing. Failing him. Terribly.

The Water Ninja cannot fail her Lightning Ninja. Not when he’s never failed her.

So Nya began searching for him in every room, blocking the entrances as his appearance was missing in those spaces. Books are now stacked at the doors, and tables are now pushed in front of the oak.

Where’s Jay Walker?

He’s not in the kitchen. Not outside. Definitely not in his old bedroom. The bathroom is occupied by someone else. Which leaves her last destination.

His ‘lounging’ room.

He’s not getting away this time.

The raven head takes large strides towards the room, finding herself questioning as she stands in front of the door. It creaks open, toppling the silence filling what was a chatty room. One step in and Nya swiftly slides it shut, whilst shuffling a box to block the exit.

He’s nowhere in sight.

But his smell is still burning her nose. 

A few strolls forward and she tilts her head up, catching that familiar hat placed on his ripped sash. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” She speaks up, not caring if he is awake to hear her or not.

Though, Rogue is awake. 

The scruffy man pounces up from his comfortable position, eyes flickering wide open to meet her. The moment he finds her filling his view, hesitation swarms him, snatching onto words beginning to form in his mind.

Nya senses him debating on what to say, finally turning the cogs in his brain. Yet she remains silent, letting him take the next move. 

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious.” He mutters, shifting back into his comfort position and shutting his eyes once again. 

“Why?” She presses, glaring at him sternly. All of that softness dissipated within mere moments. “Because we kissed?”

Rogue refuses to speak. 

“You’re upset because we kissed. I can’t change that! Sorry, I don’t have the ability to go back in time and stop us from kissing anymore!” Nya shouts, frantically waving her arms in the air. 

“You had that ability before?” 

She snaps her head in his direction, glaring daggers.

“If it was really that terrible, forget about it. I don’t plan on replicating it any time soon.” She spits through gritted teeth. A facade to hide how her heart pounds less as she admits anything but the truth.

He blinks his eyes open.

And remains silent, observing her and biting back his snarky remarks—which is odd for Rogue to do.

Over the past few weeks, he’s been throwing back comments, out loud or under his breath—still loud enough for others to hear.

Nya wants to believe she’s cracked him. She needs to believe that she’s able to get her Jay back, but right now it looks further than the highest mountain.

But Rogue’s got other ideas. 

“It wasn’t.” He interrupts the silence, allowing it to settle as his words find their way into her heart.

With a thumping heart, her head tilts up, chocolate eyes meeting unsure cobalt ones. 

“It was okay.” He adds swiftly, darting away from her gaze. 

“Could be better.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as she clings to the less abnormal figure. 

“So you did like the kiss?” Nya questions, raising an eyebrow and leaning closer towards the mysterious man. 

“I didn’t say that. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He snaps back instantly, poking his nose in the air as if he were disgusted by her suggestion. 

“Then you didn’t like it?”

“You need to improve your game.” Rogue blatantly ignores her question, uttering words that were meant to be seen as friendly advice with a tone full of cockiness.  

“I haven’t kissed anyone in more than five years.” Nya admits, sulking at the fact. It wasn’t that she was upset that she hadn’t kissed anyone in those years, it was the fact that she hadn’t kissed him.

But maybe he had kissed others.

“Have you?” It slips out, leaving it too late for her to control herself. 

“I’ve been with more women than you can count on your fingers.” He proudly admits—too proudly for Nya’s liking.

It was off. Their kiss was sloppy, unpractised. Originally she had believed that it was due to her lack of confidence. It was exactly like their first kiss on the lips—just two teenagers, giddy, blushing and nervous about having their first kiss. 

Their first kiss was the same. It couldn’t have been because of her inexperience, not when the man she had learned how to kiss with forgot everything.

“You’re lying.” She blurts out. 

“No, I’m not.” His eyes widen, with a spark igniting behind cold cobalt irises. 

“You don’t know how to kiss.” She confirmed, earning an uneasy look. 

“What? Now you’re just projecting.” He spits, avoiding eye contact and failing to puff his chest out. 

“You don’t know how to kiss and now you’re lying and making it seem like I don’t know how to kiss so I won’t think that kiss was a trainwreck because of you.” She states breathlessly, her tone sounding utterly profound. 

“A trainwreck?” He reiterates, scrunching his face up at the term.

“Why did you kiss me?” Nya swiftly inquires, peering at the flushed man. 

“I didn’t kiss you.” He stammers, trying to scoff but failing and it stumbles out as a half-grumble. 

“You’ve clearly never kissed anyone before. So why did you kiss me?” She presses, leaning closer, begging to hear an answer—any answer that sounds truthful to her heart.

“What’s with all the questions?” He dodges her pleads, huffing at her and the reluctance to eat his sensibility. 

“What’s with all the avoiding? First, it’s me, now it’s my questions.” Nya presses her fingers together, gesturing to the amount of avoiding he’s been doing. It was not painting a perfect picture for Rogue at the moment. 

“I don’t have to answer your questions.”

It’s a classic Jay Walker move. He plays it every time he’s feeling the pressure, plays it off. Yet, what Rogue doesn’t know is that Nya’s come across this move countless times.

She’s mastered every counter move. 

“Then don’t. I’ll keep believing something that I know you won’t like.” Nya shrugs nonchalantly, hiding a deepening smirk, because she knows exactly what buttons to push for Jay Walker—or Rogue. 

“Okay?”

She’s losing him.

“Maybe I’ll tell the others.” Nya continues, eyes brushing over his squinted ones.

“Okay.”

“Maybe I’ll even post it. Then all your clients could see who you truly are.”

This earns a rightful tut.

“You’re bluffing.”

Now Rogue is cornered—and he has no idea.

“You don’t even know what I’m talking about.” 

“You said it’s something I won’t like.”

“And what’s that?”

His breath hitches, and he pauses for a split second before he takes that lunge forward.

From that flicker in his eyes, the Water Ninja can sense the exact emotion curling around his veins. 

“That I like you.” He spits out, too fast to stop that mouth of lightning.

It’s almost humorous to Nya because Jay Walker has played this trick on her too many times to count. 

“You like me? Oh, I’m flattered, really.” She tilts her head, smirking devilishly. Her tone is thick with mischief, because finally she has outplayed Jay Walker—she’s beaten that mouth at his games. 

“How did you do that?” He stares dumbfounded. 

“The art of Jay Walker.” Nya shrugs, unbothered by the intense glare flickering crimson. 

“I’m Jay Walker. Shouldn’t I be exempt from my own tricks?” 

“Not when you’re admitting the truth.” She lets a smirk dance across her pink lips, feeling a surge of annoyance grow from beside her.

“That’s not the truth.” Rogue bites back. 

“Then what is it? Words?” Nya sarcastically states, gaining an eager nod from the scruffy locks of auburn. 

“Uh, yes.” 

Nya tuts, turning away from the jeering reply, away from Rogue.

Her heart pounds faster, with a burning sensation rushing through her throat. A tingly feeling implodes within her, teasing the frown trying to hide how her heart is beating at a faster pace. 

Jay Walker is still tugging at the strings of her heart. Always.

Jay Walker is still here.

“I can teach you.” Nya whispers breathlessly, picking at the corners of the floorboards with her foot, before she speaks up. “Or re-teach you.” She offers, leaning forward and readjusting her vision to meet his.

Is he still here? She pleads internally.

“I told you, I’m a professional kisser!” He snaps back, falling away from her.

She watches him, how he stumbles back with his shabby clothes pressing into the purple couch. His cobalt eyes—a lot darker than how she remembered—search for the route free, but there are no windows in the room and Nya took the liberty of blocking the doors.

He’s cornered in, physically and mentally.

Watching how his face changes, it pushes a feeling of sympathy bubbling in her chest. Nya wants to set him free, to let this man run free with his life, but he’s still holding onto something that used to belong to her.

She wants to know if he’s willing to give it back, keep it or return it with his own once more.

A trembling hand, decorated with flowing water symbols, travels from his arms until it lands on his now rough skin. Nya pulls at his cheeks, squinting to glance at the pink tint more thoroughly. It’s a treat for her.

The vulnerability gapes through his wounds, immersed by her. She relishes this feeling, shuffling onto the couch in front of him.

Rogue is motionless. The exceptional oscillation of his body, moving up and down rhythmically indicates he’s still breathing, but his muscles are no longer flexed, his eyes are no longer avoiding her.

He’s drowning in her essence.

She sees it through the way his face softens. Wrinkles now fading, eyebrows now unfurled and eyes widened with a slight gap between his lips. 

Hesitantly, the raven-haired woman slopes forward, lips departing as well. Words are overrated for the moment, lost in the blazing heat of their stares.

It’s a mirror of what happened last time. Only this time, Nya wants to be the first to move, so she does just that. 

Hastily, she pulls her lips against his, tasting the blood pooling from the cracks on his pale ones. The Water Ninja wants to pull back, to ease the tense man in front of her, but she’s unfamiliar with these grounds. What if he pulls away, aware of who he’s kissing—without fully being aware?

On the other hand, Rogue’s submerged in the waves of her soul, her taste. 

Yet he knows it’s not the same for her.

They pull away from one another, stealing every breath they can snatch onto. Her chocolate eyes zoom in on his darkening cobalt ones, searching for a familiarity.

And there’s a new look forming behind those eyes; Nya can read it clear as daylight. 

No matter how hard Rogue tries, he’s fairly certain he’ll never be Jay Walker, let alone try to fill those shoes. 

“You don’t want this, you want him.” His tone had gotten soft for the first time, he wasn’t even sure he could speak this softly.

“Shut up.” Nya lunges at him, her arms wrapping around his neck again and diving down for his lips. “It’s always about what you think I want or what you want. I want to choose what I want.”

“And I want to choose what you want too. One last time.” She whispers breathlessly, stumbling on top of him ungracefully.

Rogue is captivated by her presence, and she isn’t afraid to lean up from their kiss and fall right back down into his hold. However, Nya is struck by the similarities between the man she’s kissing and the man she loves and even if he pleads that he’s not the same man, he still licks his lips once she’s departed from her touch. 

He speaks up, breaking their comforting silence. “I do.” 

“You do?” She raises an eyebrow, urging him to elaborate. 

“I do fucking want this.”

“See now, I’m not sure I want this anymore.” She grins mischievously, copying a smile he’s witnessed before on old pictures of himself. It feels almost foreign to her because whilst she teased him, it was only due to his incessant teasing that provoked her to do so.

His face remains void of any true emotion. A grim face, contrasting with how he used to be so easy to read. Jay would bite back a grin, and fail, or his eyes would soften in admiration or a feeling that didn’t quite match pity. His blue was so bright.

This blue was so dull.

“I’m nothing like him Nya.”

“You say that but-”

“And I mean it.” He cuts her off, with a stern stare. It’s not meant to be interpreted as harsh, but rather as enforcing.

“Okay, Rogue.” She leans in, their breaths mingling. She hates how he’s still eyeing her lips, how he’s not pleading to kiss her but rather planning how he’ll steal the kiss from her. Another part of her craves this new profound look. “You’re nothing like him.”

“I’m not, and I can’t be him. I won’t be him, not even for a pretty lady like you.” His fingers began to twirl around a loose curl that slipped from her ponytail. His damning electric eyes—with a hint of crimson flickering behind the sparks—are captivated by the way her free strand of hair flows freely.

Nya’s far more curious to observe him. 

“Then be yourself and we can start over again.”

“From the very start?”

“Yeah.” 

“You’ll choose me over him?”

She bites her lip, hesitating. If she agrees, there would be no point in trying to ‘turn’ him back. If she disagrees, she’ll lose both of them, possibly forever. 

Nya knows that Rogue is Jay. Not entirely, not wholly him. Some parts resemble him, attributes that she knows she can expand on, that can outweigh the negative ones. He changed for the better, for her. Why couldn’t he do it again? 

His hand gently brushes against her jaw, before cupping her cheeks—pulling her to his stare. “Will you be with me? With Rogue?” 

God, she hates the way Rogue sounds, hates the way he says it, because it’s still his tongue and mouth spitting it out. Yet she’s still getting butterflies at the way his smile softens at her silence. 

"Be you, and we can test the waters out."

"You can't control these waters Nya. They're deeper than the ocean."

"I know. I spent a year merged with the Sea. Trust me, I know."

“So my…” His voice trails off, along with his eyes flickering from her captive hold to her tempting lips. 

“Your?”

“My lady…”

“Your lady?” It slips out in a way that questions the words. He’s—Jay’s—never called her that before. It’s not like she’s upset at this though, only conflicted.

“Woman.”

“Woman.” She repeats unamused. “Man.” Scoffing, Nya folds her arms, looking at the messy man disapprovingly. 

“My woman was part of the ocean. I find it hard to believe that your body turned into water. Where did all your flabby skin go?”

“Flabby?” She coughs out, furrowing her eyebrows at him incredulously.

“What? Your skin’s not flabby?” 

“I work out more than you do!” Nya argues, pressing her biceps against his.

The pressure of his muscles presses against hers, flaunting how he’s still toned—even if he spent five years sitting on his bum, in front of a screen. It’s humiliating, how he cocks his head to the side, the dead ends of his auburn hair dangling teasingly.

Her lips part by a centimetre, and Nya feels the urge to mumble something—anything. But remains silent, listening to the silence and feeling his honed biceps against hers. 

“Yeah? It shows.” He breaks her off her admiration, leaning into the touch and unfazed by her sudden silence. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She shakes her head, regaining consciousness. 

“It means, you look good.” He replies firmly, eyes never wavering from hers. 

Nya blinks once, then twice. Her mouth is stitched shut, and her throat dried up quicker than any desert. She despises how he still has this effect on her, and she adores it at the same time.

This is her confirmation that her Jay Walker is still here. 

“Thanks.” She coughs out, feeling the heat of her now flushed cheeks. 

“What? You’ve never been complimented before?”

“No, I have. It’s just weird coming from you.” She admits confidently. 

From Rogue, she means. 

“What? Why?” 

“Because you’ve never complimented me before.” She presses a finger into his chest, nudging him backwards by a step.

“Yes, I have.” He takes one more step forward. 

“No, you haven't.” She disagrees once more.

“I think I would remember complimenting you, and I do.”

“What did you say?” Nya raises an eyebrow, curious to hear this compliment she couldn’t pinpoint in her memories.

Rogue nibbles on his bottom lip, attention landing onto anything but her before drawing back to the centre of his world. Nya. 

“That you didn’t smell of sweat.”

“That's not a compliment!” Nya abruptly yells, clenching her fists and stumbling backwards. Her teeth gritted and eyes narrowed happen within minutes, until her expression fades as a sharp cracking erupts to the side. 

A glass cup shatters, as the water—once contained—splatters across the wooden table. She hasn’t done that since her powers went loose.

Nya sucks a shaky breath in, staring intensely as the water begins to drip down the legs of the table. Drip. Drop. The sound taunts her, reminding her of every second Rogue’s invading her mind and how Jay’s drifting into a distant view. 

“Someone’s getting a little violent.” He interrupts the dripping—as usual. 

“Me? Violent? Hah.” Nya sneers.

But it’s true. Her violence is eating at her mind, consuming her sensibility. It was the same when she was younger, when she would snap at the ginger boy for pushing her too far.

Recklessly, she darts back to him, examining how his face remains blank.

Is he back? Is he still there?

For a moment, he remains still. His eyes are still wandering aimlessly around the room, searching for something to gain his excitement. The first move is from him, he nudges his foot towards the door.

He’s going to leave?

She’s losing him and if she loses him now, how long will it be until she can’t find him again?

Impulsively, her mouth speaks up for her—taking on the role he would have filled. “But if you want to get violent, let’s see how far those sparks zap.”

Rogue bounces back, attention falling back towards her. His unkept eyebrows are both raised, peeking his curiosity as a tiny smirk tugs at the end of his scarred mouth. “I thought you loved him because he was gentle. Do you just want to fall out of love with this face?”

“I never said I fell in love with Jay Walker for his gentleness. That was merely a bonus.”

“So if you didn’t fall for Jay Walker for his gentleness, you won’t mind…” His voice trails off as he leans closer, the distance between them decreasing and the tension only burning in flames. 

“One last gentle kiss.” He pulls her closer, eyes flickering down to her clear lips before touching them with his.

“If you get to decide our last gentle kiss, I want…” 

“Our first violent kiss.” Her hands snake around his neck, tugging at the ends before snatching hold of his free locks, dragging him towards her. Within moments, she's pressing against his cracked lips with her soft ones.

“Take it off.” He whispers in her ear, slipping a hand under her gi, stroking from her stomach towards the valley between her breasts. 

She follows his movement swiftly, tugging his neck closer. Fluttering her eyelashes, Nya pulls a look she knows Jay Walker wouldn’t be able to disagree with and a look she is certain Rogue won’t be able to hold back from.

“No.” She whispers in his ear, before shrugging him off her.

“I’m not that easy. You might think I’ll give in! But I’m stronger than that, Rogue.”

A groan slipped from those dry lips, followed by hands clawing at his freckled and scarred cheeks.

“Sometimes I wonder how he put up with you.” Her face turns sour, and Nya picks up on the faint sigh slipping from the foreign lips she loves. 

“But he’s gone, and that’s his loss.”

“And my gain.” He adds, grinning with a hint of wickedness lingering between those sharp canines. 

It hurts her, how he’s talking about himself with such hidden hatred. Rogue hates him. 

“Why do you hate…”

She wishes to say his name, but can’t. Not when Rogue’s piercing gaze isn’t wavering from her.

“He left you. Alone. Didn’t he?”

But he was you.

“That’s enough for me to know that I hate him; how could he leave someone like you?”

That’s not the real reason.

Nya knows it’s not the reason why Rogue despises Jay. She can’t understand why he feels that way towards someone he never had the pleasure of meeting, but she’s more than certain that Rogue doesn’t hate him because he ‘hurt her’. How could he when he’s hurt her many more times? 

“The question you should be asking is why can’t you hate him? Why can’t you hate me?” The last word causes Nya to whip her head in his direction, searching for confirmation that Rogue believes he is Jay. 

“I could never hate Jay Walker. He would never leave me.” She shakes her head defiantly, ripping eye contact and refusing to turn back.

“But he did, Nya.”

“No, he…” The words die on the tip of her tongue as she realises, they aren’t the same person. “When I needed him, he was there. It took him a while to see it, and he was goofy at times. But he was always there.”

“But he isn’t here. Who’s in this room with you right now? Me. Rogue. Not Jay. He left you. Why can’t you admit that?”

“Why are you pushing this?”

“Why do you still talk about him with such praise and love when he left you alone for so many years? If I had you before-”

“But you didn’t.” She cuts him off, gritting her teeth. Where did this come from? “He came when I asked him to. He saved me on that wedding day, he came for me. He was there and just because he isn’t here right now, doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be.” 

“And I’m not something to have. I’m a person.”

“You’re making it clear that you still love him.”

She turns her body all the way, looking at him confused.

“Of course I do. I’ve made that clear as hell. I still love Jay Walker and I always will.”

“But you love him more than me.”

“I was his Yang, and his girlfriend for many more years. We went through so much together.” Sweat begins to build on her forehead, whilst her eyes flicker to anything but the man standing opposite her—staring at her somewhat dumbfounded. 

“You’re not answering the question. Do you love him more than me?” There’s a strain in his voice. He’s holding back—holding something back from Nya, yet she can’t quite pinpoint what this something is. Is it anger? Jealousy? 

“That’s a stupid question.” She retorts, rolling her eyes and turning abruptly away from him. The last thing Nya wants is for Rogue to witness how her heart is slowly shrivelling up every time he separates himself from the man she fell for. 

“Answer it.”

“No! You don’t tell me what to do.”

“Then why the fuck am I here? I’m not going to sit around whilst you try to picture me as your ex-boyfriend. I’m not him, Nya. I won’t be and I’m never going to become him. You can’t expect to just magically make him come back to life within me!” He shoves his arms out aggressively, gesturing to the items—their space—invading their argument.

It’s all so wrong in Nya’s eyes. 

“You are him though! You’re ignoring me and everyone else because you don’t believe us, no matter how much proof we’ve shown you!” She sucks in a deep breath, before coming clear with her words. 

“I can’t stand by and let you become this person I know you’re not.” 

She’ll continue to cling to the last remains of Jay Walker, in Rogue, in everybody.

She’ll see him smile when she sees his freckled cheeks. She’ll hear him laugh when there’s a joke out of the ordinary. She’ll smell his fresh grass when she’s passing through a damp field. She’ll feel his hands on her when someone brushes past her.

But before she decides to wander into this new territory, she’ll need to let go of the one holding her key. Or so she believes.

That’ll never happen. Nya knows it.

Kai knows it. Zane knows it. Lloyd knows it. Cole knows it. Everyone knows it.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re right or not. I’m not going to be someone I’m not and I’m not going to be with someone who tries to make me something I’m not.”

Rogue knows it. 

It’s a curse that their situations are flipped. Only a few years ago, it was Jay arguing that they held something stronger than any currents. It was Jay bargaining for another chance, and she refused him every time.

“Mark my words, I will hate him for the rest of my life.”

Jay knows it.

“And if I do ever become him, I will ruin every last remaining quality you loved about him.”

Is he still here?

No. No, he’s not here.