ninjago imagines

somebody i used to know is deep in your eyes | kai s., lloyd g.

"It should've been me," Kai says, and Lloyd thinks he's heard him wrong under the bustling crowd until he repeats himself, louder and angrier with the barest hint of a break in his voice.

"It should've been me."

Ah. Right. Zane.

Zane and his sacrifice that no one can ever stop thinking about. Lloyd wonders if that counts as suicidal ideation, the kind they're trained to bring people in for, but settles on the more likely scenario that if he tries to take Kai home, or even to the hospital, he'd probably get offed himself.

And. Well. The green ninja is supposed to be the strongest of them all, the leader who always knows what to do and how to do it, but in that second the only thing Lloyd wants to do is run away into the sea crying, and find Nya to deal with this. Except that's not an option, because he'd rather die than cry in front of Kai, and Nya refuses to talk to him ever since he signed up for this stupid fight club.

"It's a death trap," she says, fingers clenched white about a wrench. Her shirt is stained with oil that looks eerily like blood. "He's trying to die, because he thinks it'll excuse him from the guilt. He'd rather do that and feel better about himself, than face actual reality like the rest of us." She ends her sentence with a savage twist to whatever boot was unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of her wrench.

Lloyd wonders how easily you could kill someone with a wrench, and if it really counts as facing reality if you spend all day buried under gears and motors.

"I'll talk to him," he says, and leaves before Nya can say another word.

But it's hard to avoid now. Someone bumps into his side, spilling sticky cold liquid (he really hopes it's juice) all over the side of his jacket, and Lloyd stumbles forward. That's what he gets for losing focus. The fire ninja barely glances over at the noise, his gaze firmly fixed on the shimmering cup of amber liquid in front of him, and Lloyd is pretty sure that one isn't juice.

"Zane knew what he was doing." Lloyd says quietly. He fingers the zipper on his coat and resists the urge to pull the drink away from him. (He doesn't think about how he lies awake every night thinking about the same thing. Because he doesn't. He doesn't.)

"Did he? Did he know what it was going to do to us?" Kai stumbles over his words, speech slurring with alcohol and long-buried grief as he downs the mug in his hand and adds it to the growing pile, water stained glass glinting in the flickering yellow lights.

Lloyd doesn't say anything. (He isn't sure if he can.)

"You should go," Kai says, and all the anger has drained from his tone. He just sounds tired.

And for the first time that evening, Lloyd thinks he might be right.

He slides the letter from Sensei Wu across the bar, dumps a handful of coins for the drink he hasn't even touched, and half-stands half-slides off the awkwardly tall bar stool.

"Take care of yourself, Kai. You know where we are if you ever need us."

"Mm." Kai nods blankly, and Lloyd bites his lip to stop himself from blurting out what he really wants to say.

He fails.

"Or if you want to. Come back. To me and Nya."

By the time the fire ninja registers the words and turns around, Lloyd is long gone out the door and down the alleyway. The bar seat spins and creaks sadly behind him.

(Because the truth is, when it comes down to it, he's not all that good at facing reality either.)