Chapter Text
The sunlight crawled weakly through the thin wooden slats of Lloyd’s curtains, striping the messy floorboards in uneven bars of gold. Each gust outside made the fabric flutter, whispering across the room like someone tiptoeing by his door.
Lloyd sat on the edge of his unmade bed, stiff as if carved from stone, shoulders hunched so tightly it looked painful. His hair—his chaotic, golden mess of curls—fell over his eyes, catching the light but refusing to shine. Those usually bright, piercing green eyes were hooded now, dull and sunken, pointed down at the floorboards like they were the only thing anchoring him.
His left elbow dug into his thigh. His hand held his head up as if his neck had given up. His skin, normally lightly bronzed from training and sun, had lost its color—he looked washed-out, like someone had drained him and left an empty shell behind.
The room reflected the same: blankets half-slid off the bed, a gi top draped over a chair, weapons scattered near the mat where he had tried to train but failed to even lift a sword earlier.
Lloyd’s green gi—wrinkled from tossing and turning—hung off him. His pant leg had a tear along the seam, and he kept picking at the frayed threads with a kind of nervous automatic rhythm. His leg bounced, heel tapping the floor lightly and repeatedly, the sound a tiny, jittery percussion in the otherwise silent room.
He looked… wrong.
Cold misery wrapped in green fabric.
A dimmed lantern.
A hero quietly breaking.
And he knew it.
'I look pathetic. Just great. Green Ninja, Savior of Ninjago, defeated by… himself. Nice.' He thought.
He hunched forward more, letting his spine curve, letting the exhaustion swallow him whole. He felt disconnected, floating. Breath shallow, uneven, barely enough to count as breathing at all.
The door was cracked open—barely.
Enough that someone could look in if they cared.
But no one had.
Not today.
Not this morning.
Not after the nightmares.
Not after he skipped breakfast.
Not after he’d barely responded in training yesterday.
No Cole knocking with a joke and a snack.
No Jay barging in with way too much energy.
No Kai teasing him awake.
No Nya nudging him to drink water.
No Zane checking his temperature with that worry-knitted brow.
No Wu with his calm, frustratingly cryptic wisdom.
He swallowed, throat tight.
'Figures. Guess everyone’s busy saving the world or whatever.'
He rubbed at his face with one hand. His fingers trembled slightly.
“Of course…”
The words cracked a little.
Quiet. Sharp. Bitter.
He let out a slow exhale and felt it stutter on the way out.
He was exhausted.
Not physically.
Not really.
It was in his bones.
Behind his eyes.
Heavy as chains around his ribs.