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“No, wait! Please! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!”
“Then prove it!” Rough hands shoved her forward into her room. She spun around, desperate to escape, but the door slammed shut with a painfully loud clang before she could even take a step. “Dr. LaRow has requested a second device, and until you do it, you’re not coming out!”
Footsteps retreated, heedless to her screams of protest and pounding on the door. She eventually lost her will to fight and slid to the ground, tears streaking down her face.
She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t. She refused to create another monster that they twisted her beautiful, playful puppy into. She’d created the photac to be a loving, hypoallergenic pet, not a weapon for war. Not that sharp-toothed wolf they turned it into by stealing dragon energy.
When LaRow had asked her to make another, she’d yelled in protest and thrown a screwdriver at the scientist. Her parents had, of course, immediately taken control of her and apologized to LaRow as they dragged her away screaming. She tried to plead that she hadn’t meant to get so upset, but they saw through her lie.
It was just…the poor dragons, trapped in those cages and unable to do anything as the lab slowly drained their life force. She couldn’t take it. Even though she’d been raised to hate and fear dragons, the look in that poor creature’s eyes…that was no monster. It was just as lost and scared as she was.
Her parents gave her a workbench with a camera and only the necessary supplies on it. She refused to touch it. As much as she wanted to tinker and create, it wouldn’t be for the cruel cause of the scientist and the Empress. She’d rather never touch a tool again than create another photac.
She hid herself under the covers of her bed and cried herself to sleep.
The next day, when the door opened, she thought she was getting food. She hadn’t eaten last night and she was gripped by the familiar claws of hunger. But instead of a meal, her father entered, beelined for her bed, and stripped it of blankets and pillows. He left without a word, ignoring her loud protests.
Imperium was cold at night. She’d be miserable without her blankets.
The rest of the day passed with no other visits and, more importantly, no food or water. She had to ration her water bottle very carefully.
On the second morning, her parents graced her with a plate containing a single plain cheese sandwich, which wasn’t even toasted, and a new water bottle. She was grateful to be fed and not forgotten.
When she continued to refuse to build another photac, the food became more sparse. She ate half of it when it was given to her, then saved the rest for later. Her stomach hurt from how hungry she was. Her head hurt from the lack of water.
Then, one day, LaRow herself appeared at her doorway.
The girl picked herself off the bare bed, shaking slightly. She tried to make herself taller and stuck up her chin at the evil lady.
“Ana,” the woman criticized with a disapproving click of her tongue. “I thought you were an obedient girl.”
She crossed her arms. “I’ll never help you hurt dragons!” She cried.
LaRow tsked. “An unfortunate waste. You had so much potential.” She shook her head and left.
Well then. What was the point of that?
The answer came minutes later when both of her parents arrived, equally furious. Her confidence vanished and she shrank back as she tried to make herself smaller. “Dr. LaRow told us that you refused, again,” her mother scolded.
“I-I—”
“No excuses!” Suddenly her father was grabbing her collar and lifting her skinny body into the air. She gasped in alarm and thrashed desperately. He raised his hand and she squeezed her eyes shut, going perfectly still. “What must we do to teach you to obey your superiors?”
“Send me to a place that helps people,” she whined pitifully. She knew the answer would never fly. But it was better than silence. Her father hated when she didn’t answer his questions.
She’d hoped it would prevent the consequence, but she was wrong. Her face suddenly exploded in stinging pain as her father’s hand connected with her cheek. She cried out in pain and rebellious tears sprang into her eyes. She frantically tried to keep them in, but it was fruitless. The shock and pain sent them tumbling free.
“Do not cry in front of me, child!” Her father dropped her without warning and she yelped as she crashed to the cold metal floor. “Crying is a sign of weakness!”
She hid her face and tried so hard to stop crying.
Then a rough hand pushed the back of her neck, and she bit back a screech of alarm—
A loud gasp filled the otherwise quiet room as the girl shot upright, panting, and covered her mouth with her hand.
Sora froze, listening for any signs of movement that would indicate Arin, Riyu, or Wyldfyre waking up from the sudden noise. When she heard nothing, she carefully picked her way across the room and out into the hall.
The girl anxiously swiped her damp eyes. No crying allowed. She trembled from either cold or fear. Maybe both. She tiptoed through the Monastery and headed outside.
Cool night air wrapped around her as she stepped away from the Monastery’s doors. A clear sky with calming stars greeted her from above, broken occasionally from a shooting star. The main gate creaked slightly as she slipped out and headed for her favorite grassy outcrop under a flower tree, facing nothing but mountains and clouds.
Sora sighed heavily as she sat down, leaning against the trunk. The nightmare still haunted her thoughts. She’d hoped she was over her past by now—it had been years since those dreaded days, and over a month since the last nightmare.
She realized pretty quickly that it must’ve been from seeing her parents two nights ago at the battle in Imperium as they fought Beatrix. She’d been doing so well, especially with Arin’s help, but seeing them in person again, preaching for the Empress, had seemingly reset all her hard-earned progress. It dug up those carefully buried memories.
The girl shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as she pulled her legs close to her body. Having easier access to her powers was great, but at the cost of nightmares? She’d rather rely on Riyu’s spark.
Sora stared off into the distance. Exhaustion weighed her body down; after all, it had to be only two or three in the morning, based on how high the full moon was. But her mind was wide-awake. Her thoughts whirled around the nightmare and refused to let it go. She could almost feel the stinging pain on her face and the hunger gnawing her stomach.
Some time passed, enough for the moon to rise higher and begin sinking. It was peaceful and quiet up on the mountain. The air was so clean and fresh and the stars twinkled freely, with no light pollution drowning them out. They were a rare sight in both Imperium and the Crossroads.
She managed to zone out for a little, settling into a restless half-sleep. Every time she almost drifted off, she saw her parents again. Every time her eyes fluttered shut, she heard them chastising her. She wanted to confess the nightmare to Arin and listen to his surprisingly good advice about how to move on. But she refused to wake him up. He needed his rest.
Something warm suddenly draped over her body. Sora startled and whirled to the side, only to see a familiar and unthreatening green-clad body standing next to her, not even looking her way.
“Lloyd,” Sora gasped. “I—I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”
Lloyd shook his head and kept his gaze on the horizon. She found it oddly comforting. “Not at all.”
Sora studied him. The Ninja settled down on the ground next to her, close but out of arm’s reach. His expression was oddly neutral for someone who found her outside at three in the morning.
“…Am I in trouble?” Sora asked tentatively.
The question made Lloyd look at her in shock. She averted her gaze and stared at her hands. “No, of course not,” he replied immediately with a sincerity that could only mean he wasn’t lying. “You’re always free to come and go as you please.”
Oh, right. He had mentioned that before, after they went to the Crossroads Carnival and fought Dorama. He made it clear that they weren’t trapped, prisoners, or anything like that. They just had to tell him when they left. She kept forgetting that she didn’t need permission to leave the building.
She leaned against the tree again and tentatively pulled the fleece blanket Lloyd had given her tighter around her shoulders. She hadn’t even realized how cold she’d become in the night air. Silence fell, but Sora shifted uncomfortably. Lloyd had to want something from her, otherwise he wouldn’t be here. Didn’t he need to sleep, too?
After several moments, she finally scrounged up the courage to ask. “Why are you here?”
“Why are you here?” He countered immediately, but his tone wasn’t accusing. He’d returned his attention to the clouds as if they held all the answers to the world.
“I asked first.”
Lloyd chuckled at that. “Fair enough.” He paused for a moment, then answered, “I’ve always liked coming outside when I need space to breathe. Usually it’s up on the roof, but the tree is a close second.”
Sora’s mind immediately churned with questions. Did he have a nightmare, too? Did the other Ninja know about his escapes? Did he like being alone or did he secretly wish someone would find him? Was he like her, not wanting to wake up anyone else?
She didn’t ask any of them. Instead, she pulled the blanket around her legs and hunched into the fabric. She hadn’t realized at first, but the blanket was green. It must be Lloyd’s.
The realization made her cheeks warm slightly. She must look like a sad kitten, outside alone and staring into the clouds with nothing to protect her from the cold. It made Lloyd think he needed to surrender his own blanket for her comfort.
“You never answered,” he prompted gently.
Sora tensed. How could she have forgotten to answer the question? Silence only meant—
“Couldn’t sleep,” she replied quickly. “Sorry.”
Lloyd shook his head a little. “You don’t need to apologize. It happens. The amount of times Kai’s had to ask me the same question over and over—” He huffed in amusement, but quickly sobered as he glanced at Sora. “Nightmare?”
She glanced away, and that was all the answer he needed. The Ninja made a small noise of sympathy. “’s okay. We all get them.”
Arin had told her all about the adventures of the Ninja and how many times they’d saved the world. She’d be more surprised if they didn’t have nightmares from those events; even though Arin told her only the best parts, she was smart enough to fill in the blanks. She knew it must’ve been torture for them.
“My mind just…” Sora pinched her eyes shut and rubbed her temples. “I thought I’d gotten over it. But during the battle, I…I saw my parents.”
She heard Lloyd suck in a breath of air. She’d never told him much about her family, only that she hated them and was grateful to be out of Imperium. She knew that he could pick up on what she didn’t say.
“It brought up unwanted memories,” Lloyd guessed. When Sora nodded once, he exhaled slowly. “Sora—”
“Don’t tell me to forgive them,” she pleaded. “That they’re family, so I need to see reason.”
“I wasn’t going to.” Surprised, she opened her eyes and glanced at him. His calming expression immediately settled some of her fried nerves. “Sometimes families suck.”
Sora shifted her eyes to the stars. “You wouldn’t understand,” she muttered. At a noise of confusion from her mentor, she shook her head. “The pictures around the Monastery. Your family is great.”
Silence followed, which was, to her utter bewilderment, broken by a single laugh. “Sora, the other Ninja aren’t my blood family.”
She stared at him in shock. “But you all act like—”
“Siblings?” When she nodded, he smiled fondly. “Call it a chosen family. Only Kai and Nya are related by blood. Tell me, which of us do you think had a good relationship with our parents?”
Sora shook her head. “This is a trick question.”
“No, seriously.” Lloyd shifted closer. “Me, Kai, Nya, Cole, Zane, or Jay.”
“I don’t know you all well enough,” Sora protested. “I don’t want to assume.”
Lloyd tilted his head. “Okay. How about just me then?”
She studied his expression, looking for any sign that this was a trick or that he’d judge her based on her answer. He waited patiently and seemed genuine. “Um…I think you did? Have good parents?”
He was the Green Ninja, the leader and the responsible one, how could he not?
Lloyd smirked. “Nope. My mom wasn’t around until I was—thirteen?—and my dad, well. He was either locked in the Underworld or evil for most of my life.”
Shock flooded through her. She hadn’t realized that it was so bad. It sounded like he only ever had one parent around at most, and not always for the best. She never would’ve guessed, based on how he acted around them. Like a well-brought up young adult.
“The other Ninja basically had to raise me and teach me how to be a better person,” Lloyd continued upon seeing her expression. This was more information about him than she’d ever asked for, and while it felt like a breach of privacy, she didn’t stop him. “They’re more family than my parents ever were.”
Her mind whirled with confusion. “So what’re you saying?”
“That it’s okay to not like your parents, or not want them to be a part of your life,” Lloyd replied steadily. “That the people you choose are the family that matters.”
To her horror, Sora felt her eyes sting with a second wave of tears. She closed them in a pitiful attempt to keep the salty liquid in. “W-what if they hate me?” She whispered, burying her face in her knees. She couldn’t let Lloyd see that she’d started crying. Weakness.
“Their opinion doesn’t matter,” Lloyd insisted, scooting a little closer. She could almost feel him next to her. “They’re not part of your life anymore.”
Sora’s next inhale was shaky. “What if y—you or Arin or the other Ninja hate me? What if I’m not good enough and I fail or mess up or hurt the people I care about or—”
“Hey.” Lloyd’s hand landed on her shoulder and she flinched, but then leaned into the touch. His gentle voice cut through her rambling. “We’d never hate you. And failing is a part of learning. You can’t grow without making mistakes.” He rubbed her arm in a comforting way that her parents never did. He hesitated, then added quietly, “I know what it’s like to be afraid of yourself or your thoughts. To think everything’s your fault and you might disappoint everyone with one little mistake. Trust me when I say that most of it’s just in your head. It’s not real.”
And she did. She did trust him. She trusted him more than she’d ever trusted her own parents, even though she’d only known him for a couple of months. She knew that his experience in battle and with hidden demons she’d never know about would make his advice sound.
It was crazy, sitting out here in the dead of night, silently crying, with the Legendary Green Ninja by her side and his blanket over her body. But he didn’t feel like a legend. He felt like a regular guy trying to give her some comfort.
In the midst of her thoughts, she forgot to muffle her sobs, and one audibly escaped. Lloyd immediately wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her towards him. She caved into the embrace and leaned into him, no longer trying to keep herself together. Her vision was a blur through all of the tears, but for once, she let them fall unchecked.
Lloyd simply rubbed her arm and let them sit in peaceful silence for the time it took for Sora to run out of tears and exhaustion to take over. She stifled a yawn and wiped her eyes. Her head pounded with a headache and her nose was so stuffy.
“Do you think you can get back to sleep?” Lloyd asked softly.
“I dunno,” Sora muttered. She really, really hoped so; she’d lost several hours of sleep and her fatigue was crushing. “Maybe.”
Lloyd squeezed her arm in warning and started slowly standing. She followed him up, the blanket falling to her knees and still wrapped around her shoulders like a green cape. Lloyd smiled at her and she returned it, albeit shaky. “Good. It’s worth a try, right?” When she nodded, he added, “And no morning practice. Sleep in a bit.”
Sora blinked in surprise. He’d never delayed practice before, although they’d taken a break over the last two days to recover from the battle, especially since he’d been exhausted from using the Dragon Cores. They were supposed to start up again in the morning.
He started to turn back towards the Monastery but Sora was faster. She darted forward and flung her arms around the older Ninja, earning a small ‘oof’ in surprise. But he was quick to hug her back. She relished the moment for the brief time it lasted; she felt safe in his arms, something she’d never experienced with an adult before.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Lloyd squeezed her a little tighter. “Anytime.”
She knew that he meant it. Anytime she needed someone to talk to, either in the day or the middle of the night, he’d listen.
“Now go try and get some sleep,” he urged, slowly loosening his hold and prompting her to step away. She started to hand him the blanket, but he waved her off. “Keep it. I’m taking Kai’s.”
A startled giggle escaped the teen. “He’s not gonna be happy.”
Her mentor rolled his eyes. “He’s a walking heater, he’ll be fine,” the Ninja chuckled. “He just likes the feel of fleece.”
“I don’t blame him,” Sora agreed, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders and up to her neck. She nuzzled into the soft fabric that smelled faintly of a forest, like it had been left outside in the middle of the woods. She’d always been a sucker for fleece. She’d never felt it before the Crossroads, but when Arin introduced her, she immediately fell in love.
She’d never owned a fleece blanket, though. This one, gifted by Lloyd, was her first.
The two headed back into the Monastery. Lloyd waved Sora goodnight as he returned to his room, and she snuck back into hers. None of the others woke up when she climbed back into her bed.
The girl wrapped herself tightly in the fleece blanket and sank into her pillow.
Sleep came easy and no nightmares interrupted it for the rest of the night.