Taking Control. (a Ninjago fanfic)

Chapter 85- Free-from-responsibility sidekick

Z A N E

I awoke with the first light of dawn, the early sun-rays beaming through the gaps in the canopy above.

The jungle wakes up differently than the city. It wasn't the usual jarring blare of traffic or construction, but the layering of sound: cicadas buzzing, birds calling to one another, the rustle of leaves and the crackle of the morning fire.

I sat up, careful not to disturb the small child still curled against my side. She had fallen asleep there last night after declaring I was "the softest ninja," — though I could hardly claim such a quality. Her name was Nali, I'd learned later that night.

The Sunbearers rise early, it seemed. By the time I left the sleeping hut Rue had set aside for us, the clearing was already alive. Women stirred pots over open flames, their rich scents drifting through the air. Men repaired nets or sharpened tools, while children dashed barefoot through the dirt, their laughter brighter than the sunrise.

Kai woke with a start when the wiry kid from the night before— Misha, I believe— deliberately poked him in the nose. "Spirits above—!" He nearly fell off the hammock as the boy cackled, already sprinting away.

Nya laughed so hard she almost spilled her own food. "Kid's got you wrapped around his finger."

"I'll wrap him around a tree if he keeps—HEY!" Kai lunged after him, which only made the kid howl louder.

Pan grinned, watching the chaos like he was enjoying a private show. "Told you," he said to me, leaning closer. "They love tormenting outsiders. Means they like you."

"Then Kai's very popular," I said dryly.

Nya laughed at that, and Jay smirked as he watched Kai struggle to get out the hammock.

"Morning, iceman." Kai's voice was hoarse with sleep, rubbing his eyes forcefully and staring at the preparation for breakfast. "That wake-up was not welcomed, FSM."

"You look great," I smiled, trying to go for sarcasm.

He rolled his eyes but grinned all the same.

Cole joined us, carrying a basket of fruit so large it looked as though it could topple him. He set it on the table with a grunt. "Breakfast. No pancakes, sorry, Jay."

Jay brightened when he saw the food anyway. "No pancakes, but fruit the size of my head? I'll allow it."

He sat heavily, muttering something about mosquitoes targeting him in particular. I handed him a piece of bright orange melon. "You are statistically no more likely to be bitten than anyone else," I assured.

He bit into it, juice running down his chin. "Yeah, sure. Tell that to my ankles."

Rue arrived then, hair in two plaits like always, already speaking with Pan.

Pan looked different in the daylight. His exhaustion was obvious: his eyes shadowed, his shoulders taut, his hands restless. Yet when Rue joined him, he straightened, his grin loose and unguarded.

"You slept?" she asked.

He snorted. "Like a rock. Now that you're back, maybe I'll sleep for a year."

Rue swatted his arm. "You've done so well, Pan. Really. I can see it."

He ducked his head, but the pride was clear in his smile.

Lloyd walked into the clearing. "So you've been running the tribe while she's been gone?" He asked.

"Pan has, yes!" Rue grinned warmly.

He sighed, lifting his hands. "Yes, yes. I did my best. We kept things together. But don't leave for that long again Rue, alright? Nearly went grey."

Kai leaned across the table, smirking. "Grey hair might suit you."

Pan raised his brows. "And what, match you when the stress finally catches up?"

That earned a bark of laughter from Cole, nearly spitting out his fruit. "He's got you there, Hothead."

The children swarmed again soon after breakfast, pulling Lloyd to watch them race, dragging Nya to the river to skip stones, daring Cole to lift heavier and heavier baskets. I found myself once again claimed by Nali, who took my hand and led me for a 'tour'."

So I walked with her. Through the narrow paths between huts, listening to her explain every detail as if it were vital: which tree was the best to climb, where Rue got attacked by hornets, where the fireflies gathered at night, which hut Pan once fell off trying to fix the roof.

It was simple. It was... grounding.

After lunch, Rue led us on a walk through the camp. A 'real' tour, apparently, not like the one Nali gave me. Pan tagged along too, naturally — though it was clear he was enjoying role as "freed-from-responsibility sidekick."

Kids trailed behind like ducklings, darting ahead to show off, running back to grab Rue's hand. She explained everything as we went: where the food was stored, the paths to the river, the training grounds tucked beneath the trees.

Nya and Jay wandered ahead, taking about something to do with the orange fruits not tasting good, and Lloyd and Kai were arguing about something or other while Cole tried (and failed) to mediate.

I walked a little slower, watching Rue. Every time she spoke, people listened. Every time a child tugged her sleeve, she bent down, patient and steady.

We passed caves that shone with glowworms, great willow trees that leant over sparkling lakes and rivers— we met their version of 'cows'— great purple creatures with a stumped horn and a feathered tail. Everything here was so different, so... unknown. It was fascinating.

Later, back by the fire, Kai dropped onto a log beside me with a groan, wiping sweat from his brow. "Spirits, it's hot. You good, Iceman? Not overheating?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Quite the opposite."

Rue, sitting across the fire with the little girl in golden plaits still nestled against her, caught my eye. She shook her head, smiling softly, before turning back to speak with one of the elders.

She was home again.

And honestly?

No wonder she wanted to return.

It was where she belonged, and it seemed to be just as amazing as she was.