Ninjago Oneshots

You are a Man (Nya)

inspired by Gone Girl!!

The clatter of steel rang through the training room as Nya faced off against another enemy, her movements sharp and precise. Sweat trickled down her temple, but her focus was unwavering. She had been at this for hours, the rhythmic clash of her weapons drowning out her racing thoughts.

"Again," she muttered to herself, her knuckles tightening around the hilt of her blade. She was fighting something more than an enemy today. She was fighting herself, her frustration, her anger.

But it wasn't just her reflection in the mirror today. There was someone else there—a familiar face, one that stirred the emotions she was trying to bury.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming back here," Nya said, not turning to look at him.

The man behind her sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "I couldn't resist. Watching you struggle is always a pleasure."

Her jaw tightened, but she still didn't face him. She kept swinging her sword, slicing through the air, imagining it was his throat.

"I thought we were done with this," Nya said coldly. "You were supposed to leave. I was supposed to never see you again."

The man chuckled, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes scanning her with a predatory gleam. "Oh, you thought it'd be that easy? That you could just get rid of me, of everything we had? You're delusional, Nya."

Finally, she turned, her eyes locking with his. "We never had anything," she spat, the venom in her words undeniable. "You made sure of that."

The smirk on his face faltered, just for a second. But then he straightened, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's not how I remember it. You know what I remember?"

Nya's hands trembled with barely-contained fury as she sheathed her sword, refusing to answer his question. She had thought that by now, he'd be nothing more than a ghost, a painful memory that would fade with time. But there he was—standing in front of her like a festering wound that refused to heal.

"You are a petty, selfish, manipulative, useless psycho bitch," he snarled suddenly, stepping toward her. His voice was laced with bitterness, each word a knife thrown her way.

For a moment, the words hung in the air, suffocating and heavy. She felt their sting, felt the weight of all the times she'd been belittled, all the times she'd been made to feel small, powerless. But she had always risen above it. She had survived it all. She wasn't the same girl she used to be, the one who let his words control her.

Nya raised her chin, her eyes steady, hard as steel. "You are a man," she said evenly, her voice cutting through the silence. "You are an average, lazy, boring, cowardly, woman-fearing man."

The impact of her words was immediate. His face twisted in anger, his eyes flaring with indignation. He took a step toward her, but she didn't flinch.

"You think you're so strong," he hissed, his hands curling into fists. "But all you are is a bitter woman who can't accept her place."

Her place.

The words echoed in her mind, sharp and familiar. How many times had she been told that? That she had a place, that she was supposed to fit into some mold society had crafted for her? That she wasn't supposed to be a fighter, a warrior, a leader?

She let out a bitter laugh, the sound echoing in the empty room. "My place? Do you even hear yourself?" She took a step toward him, her gaze unwavering, her confidence unshaken. "I've fought monsters that would tear you apart in seconds. I've saved the world more times than I can count. My place is wherever the hell I decide it is."

He stood frozen, his rage bubbling just beneath the surface, but she could see it now—he was crumbling. His power over her was slipping away, dissolving with every word she spoke.

"You came here thinking you could break me," Nya continued, her voice steady. "Thinking you still had some kind of control over me. But you're just another weak man, desperate to tear down the women you fear."

"I don't fear you," he growled, his face flushed with anger.

Nya smiled, but there was no warmth in it, only cold certainty. "Yes, you do. You fear what I am. What I represent. You're terrified that I don't need you. That no woman ever did."

The silence that followed was suffocating. She watched as the truth sank in, watched as the bravado he had built crumbled under the weight of her words. He had come here to reclaim some kind of power over her, to drag her back into the cage he thought she belonged in.

But Nya was far beyond that now.

"Get out," she said, her voice calm, almost bored. "And don't come back."

For a moment, he didn't move, as if still trying to find some last shred of dominance, some way to claw back the upper hand. But there was nothing left for him here. He had lost.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

Nya stood in the quiet, her chest rising and falling with steady breaths. The battle wasn't over. Not yet. The scars he had left would take time to heal, but she had won today. She had reclaimed her strength, her voice.

And she would never let him—or anyone—take it away from her again.