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It was cold up here.
Colder than Wu ever remembered it being. The days, nights, the years spent training and fighting within the walls of their father's mountaintop monastery could never compare to this… well, "loneliness" was the only way for it to be described. Inked clouds washed over the grey canvas that made up the sky, unbothered by grief. Hushed quietude roomed in dismal halls and vacant rooms. The kind of image they found in the scrolls left by their father. A scene that never cared for what day it was, nor for whose bones were buried beneath the earth.
But Wu? He cared.
And the tombstone that bore Garmadon's name wore quiet reverence like a veil. A single white flower, chrysanthemum, rested beside it. Over an hour had passed since it was place, and yet it slowly wilted beneath everything left unsaid.
I'm sorry.
Forgive me.
"Happy birthday, Zhe," Wu whispered. The weight of his brother's beloved seal rested heavily in the sleeve of his pao. Hints of blood and smoke still clung to the jade pendant nestled within the seal. His voice hitched, wavered, but never stopped. "I… I hope, wherever you are—"
A shuddering breath.
"I hope you're doing well."
Silence.
The kind that sang louder than any noise.
Grass rustled. Pine needles shivered in the breeze, accompanied by the creak of branches. Wu swallowed around the stone lodged in his throat. "Why didn't you tell me?"
No answer. Not that he expected one.
"You said you were tired of living in my shadow. But you never said that to me."
His hand curled into a fist around the pendant. Young, still brimming with energy, but contained. It wasn't his to use. Never his.
"Why? You never looked me in the eye and told me that you—that you felt like you weren't enough. But you were, brother. You were always enough—more than enough—and I would've told you you were wrong."
You were never supposed to be my shadow.
Father said they should never cry. That it'd reveal weakness. But—"I loved standing by your side," Wu choked out through thorns and thistles. Salt stung his eyes, though the tears never fell. The wound that just barely scabbed over reopened and bled. "Then, you left. Left me and Father. Said you needed to find your own way, your own name. It made me so happy. You were trying—actually trying."
In another life, perhaps their rolls were reversed. Perhaps it never turned out this twisted, cruel way. Two brothers of the same coin, separated by sides. By light and dark, creation and destruction.
In another life, perhaps their destinies wouldn't have been determined by a single mishap.
"Then, it killed you."
Regret strung the word up by a thread. A noose shaven off by a cosmic threat none knew existed until then.
His head lowered. Breath, hitched. "It was supposed to be you and me, brother. We had plans. We were going to change this world for the better."
Pit-pat.
You never deserved that fate, Zhe. Warmth slowly bled out from the pendant, grip loose. Wu traced the name engraved with shaking fingers. Cold bit his fingers as he sat there until the sun soared across the sky and dipped into twilight. Your favorite hour.
Care guided his hand as he gently tucked the seal by the flower. Petals of snow glistened in the dying light. Cloth shuffled as Wu rose to his feet. Slowly. Reluctantly. As if he never wanted to leave.
He didn't.
He must.
"Thank you for everything, Zhe," Wu whispered. And as the last rays of sunlight departed from the world for the night, so too, did Wu.
Pitter-patter.
It rained. Yet the sky never shed a tear.