Set whenever you want, after S5.
TW: Blood, injury
Someone lands a hit on Kai mid-battle. He doesn't mind that much. Pain doesn't matter, because it's him, right?
• • •
He's mid-battle when it happens. Kai's caught up in wrestling a gangster away, deep orange flames staining his fingers. He barely feels the heat, but apparently the other person does, and they jump away in surprise, a yell of pain escaping their throat .
He sighs in relief, and lets the blaze die down, shaking away the last jumping sparks. Cole shouts something about 'behind you' in the back, and he turns to survey the side of the building , confused.
Then something heavy crashes across the back of his head, and the world flashes back once, twice, too many times to count, and red-hot pain burns across his skin.
It feels like fire, even though Kai knows he doesn't feel the effects of real flames.
His vision is splattered with black, and he finds himself crumpled on the damp ground, freezing night dew soaking into his uniform. His attacker stands over him, and Kai barely manages to blast a feeble stream of fire at him, pushing them out of view.
His head is filled with a numbing, bitter pain, and his eyes flutter shut for a second. Just a second. Something wet trickles down his neck, and Kai reaches up to find the source, forcing himself not to cry out at the stab of pain.
His fingers come away smeared with dark blood, and he can barely make out the crimson liquid gleaming under the flickering yellow glare of the streetlight.
He can't remember the last time he bled. Kai stares at his hands covered in blood, dripping off softly onto the ground.
His surroundings seem blurry, pale, but his eyesight has always been perfect.
Concussion? He vaguely remembers Zane teaching them symptoms during first aid training, and contemplates the quiet thought for a second, but a faint scream echoes in the alleyway, fighting its way into his head.
No. He has to fight. There isn't time to deal with injuries. Not now. Kai shakes his head clear from the lingering clouds of unclearness, the pain now just a dull, pulsing ache at the back of his mind. He pulls himself up, hands gripping the wall unsteadily.
He wipes the blood away his uniform, and the scarlet blends in perfectly with the color of his uniform astonishingly well. He reaches for his swords, tightening his fingers around the leather handles, and tells himself the pain will fade in a second.
He'll be fine, because he doesn't have time to hurt.
YOU ARE READING
ninjago imagines
FanfictionA compilation of Ninjago one-shots, because only chaos can come out of the mix with the team rampaging through the city together. Or, all the lost moments throughout the series, including completely random AU's made up by yours truly in the spur of...
