Street Smarts | Ninjago AU

18 ~ i'm doing everything i can, to make sure i never love again

Nya somehow weaseled her way into being Harumi's assistant maid. Harumi was shocked to find the girl, a ninja hours before, now dressed as a humble housekeeper and claiming authority over how Harumi dressed. The other maids didn't complain. One look from Nya's sharp stare sent them scattering.

    Then Harumi was tightly wound into a snow-white, skin-tight suit that covered her from her wrists to her ankles. Nya fastened running boots to Harumi's feet and carefully wrapped a full skirt around her waist. Several flowers were sewn onto the ensemble with nimble fingers. Nya even tied a short, tulle veil into Harumi's updo, leaving Harumi looking like a stunning bride.

     Harumi didn't question why she was being put into a running suit under the dress. She could fully see the detonator hooked onto Nya's kimono's sash, and wasn't about to provoke the Mayason girl.

     But there was one question Harumi needed to know the answer to.

     "Is... is Lloyd...?"

     "I was wondering when you'd speak," Nya said curtly, yanking a strand of Harumi's hair, "but then I remembered why you normally don't."

     Silence.

     Harumi realized Nya was waiting for her to answer. "Um... my parents didn't want me to?"

     "You're afraid of someone figuring you out. If you ask someone questions, it means you're wondering about them. Wanting to know more about them. You try to avoid companionship whenever necessary and seem bent on destroying whatever relationships you build up," Nya said blasély. She curled the last strand of Harumi's pale hair into the bun, securing it with another white rose. "It's a defense mechanism."

     "I don't—"

     "Oh," said Nya, her dark eyes flaying Harumi through the floor-length mirror, "I see. So if I could take you to Morro right now, you would go live with him. You'd say you were sorry. You'd try to fix the barriers you broke between you two."

     Harumi felt cold. "Not... exactly but—"

     "Defense mechanism."

     Nya glided to the corner of the room, plucking a bouquet of scarlet roses from an intricate vase. For the first time, Harumi noticed the ugly red stitches peeking out from Nya's high collar, and the stiffness in the way she moved.

     "Lloyd is physically fine," Nya said, handing Harumi the flowers. "But mentally? He'll never be the same. How does it feel to defend yourself now?"

     Harumi was left without an answer.

     The first explosions started halfway through the "walking down the aisle" phase. The whole crowd of onlookers were visibly rattled, but the Katsukis claimed that since the explosions were far away, they in no way hindered the ceremony. So the wedding continued.

     The second explosions took out the back row of the crowd. Carnage flew everywhere, and people started screaming for ambulances. Harumi was forced to watch, Cole's strong arms keeping her in place in front of the priest. There was chaos everywhere, but neither Cole nor Nya were fazed. They just watched the panic, their soulless eyes soaking in the chaos like a delicate glass of fine wine.

     As the guests realized that the explosions had paused, they turned to their honorable bride and groom.

     The third set of explosions killed them.

    Harumi felt herself being lifted in the air, practically flying as the world around her became hot and moist. Spots formed in her vision from where the cackling of the bombs was too loud for her ears to handle. She nearly passed out, spluttering from the dust and smoke, only to have cold water splashed on her face.

     "Dead people don't cough," hazy voices chimed, their voices muffled by masks.

     If she was dead, then why could she still feel the tight silk wrapped around her arms and legs? Did the dead keep their clothes when they died?

     More questions plagued Harumi in those brief moments. Why did she hold leverage over the Ninja? Wouldn't the Sons of Garmadon have seen their faces and exposed them? Why had a week passed and no word of the Ninja's identities spread? And why were the Ninja so calm about so many potential threats?

     She wondered why it couldn't have been Kai who held her in her last moments. Gone was the face of the man who killed her parents. All she could see was his warm smile; all she could feel was the comforting touch of his hands. In those few moments after the pancake shop, Harumi had truly found a family. But she'd thought revenge was more important than that.

     She wanted Kai to be the one to kill her.

     That way she'd know she would always be on his mind, the ghost of her memory haunting him until he died. It was a sick, twisted way of trying to stay remembered in the world, but it was a way.

     Somewhere in the mess Harumi passed out (could the dead pass out?) and when she woke up, she wasn't at a wedding venue anymore.

     She was in a small hotel room, still in that white running suit, just without the skirt. She was lying gently on an untouched bed. Harumi sat up, touching the soft blankets and staring at the muted television in front of her. Gail Gossip was covering the explosion of the wedding venue, and the tragedy of the two lost lovers. Out of the misted glass windows, the sun dipped below the skyscrapers.

     Ru jumped out of the bed, wincing slightly at the impact. She ran to the hotel room's door, but it was locked from the outside. Her window had to be on the twentieth floor. There was no way she'd survive a jump down. Even the air conditioning vents were too small for a human to fit through.

     She was trapped.

     On the nightstand, a delicate notecard sat on an empty silver tray. The lettering was precise and flowery, as if the writer had spent extra time to make the message special. Harumi hesitantly picked up the note, reading the words with a grim expression.

     Seven days, it read.

     Seven days until they came to kill her.

     Seven days until Harumi Katsuki was dead forever.