Chapter 1: Arc 1
Chapter Text
ARC 1: *Ghost of a Name*
Chapter 2: Boom. Crash. What?
Summary:
Llyod crashes into Aria (literally) While late to class.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Somewhere in the heart of bustling Ninjago City, the streets pulsed with life.
Chatter spilled from sidewalk cafés. Street vendors shouted over the din of traffic. Neon signs blinked across rooftops as trains thundered past above. The city never slowed down — it danced, loud and alive, a blur of motion and noise.
But tucked between an old bookstore and a ramen bar, in a sunny yellow house with peeling shutters and a crooked windchime, chaos of a different kind stirred.
Inside the Kurohane household, things were never normal.
Far from it.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“ARIA KUROHANE!” came the scream from downstairs — loud enough to shake the cereal box off the top of the fridge.
"I'm awake!" Aria shouted back, despite still being face-down in her pillow. Her alarm had gone off three times already. Her blanket had somehow migrated halfway across the room. One sock was on her foot, and the other was mysteriously tangled in her desk lamp.
Just another Monday.
Living in Ninjago City was like being trapped in a blender on high speed — especially when your mom thought yelling was a love language, your uncle practiced sword drills in the kitchen, and your little brother insisted on pretending he was a robot ninja every single morning.
Spoiler alert: he wasn’t stealthy. At all.
"Ten minutes!" her mom shouted again. "You have ten minutes before I drive you myself, and you know I’ll do it in pajamas!"
Aria groaned dramatically and kicked off her blanket. "Please don’t threaten me with emotional terrorism before 9 a.m.!" she called back, stumbling to her closet and yanking open the door.
She blinked at her clothes for five solid seconds. Why was choosing an outfit harder than algebra? Her mind flipped between casual cute and effortless 'do n't-care' cool, and then promptly landed on whatever was clean and didn’t smell like soup.
She threw on a hoodie and jeans, stuffed her hair into a messy braid, and darted downstairs — only to almost trip over her brother crouching on the stairs in a cardboard mask.
“I’m the Green Ninja!” he declared, jumping in front of her with a dramatic kick.
“Then you can take my math quiz,” Aria muttered, sidestepping him like a ninja herself and grabbing a piece of toast from the counter.
Her mom barely glanced up from her coffee. “You look half-awake and borderline criminal.”
“Thanks, I was going for an emotionally unavailable vigilante.”
“Mission accomplished.”
She finished her toast quickly, shoving the entire piece into her mouth. Her mother gave her a disapproving look and said, “Slow down, or do you want to choke?”
Aria mumbled something incoherent while her younger brother gobbled up his breakfast messily beside her, yelling about being the Green Ninja all the while. Their mother shook her head, muttering under her breath.
Aria checked her phone and shoved the remaining bits of toast into her mouth. “I’ve got to go!” she yelled.
“I love you!” her mother called out just before the door slammed closed.
“That girl will get herself killed one day,” her mother chuckled to herself as she started clearing the plates.
Outside, the sun filtered through the haze, casting its light on the skyline. Ninjago High waited — a looming building of modern glass, red brick, and secrets.
Aria stuffed her earbuds in and jogged toward the gates, unaware that today, she'd meet someone who was exactly what he claimed not to be.
Someone whose name half the city hated.
Someone with green eyes and a mask full of lies.
==================================================
Just before Aria could open the school doors,
She was suddenly tackled by someone jumping onto her from behind. Caught off guard, she staggered and quickly turned her head around.
"I told you to stop doing that, ’Taro!" she glared at the boy, who was grinning at her with a carefree attitude, and way too much free time.
He playfully ruffled her hair. "Aww, Kuro-chan getting angry?"
"I'm so sorryyy," he added dramatically. Aria shot him another glare but then bumped her shoulder into his.
"I hate you," she growled. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of her frustration.
He scoffed as they both walked inside. "No, you don't," he sang back.
"No, I don't," she muttered.
Mina caught up with them in the bustling hallway, her smile as bright as ever. "Hey, Taro! Don’t mess with Ari; you know she doesn’t like it when you play the fool," she teased, feigning a serious tone as she raised an eyebrow.
Taro rolled his eyes dramatically, a gesture so exaggerated it could have been award-winning, and muttered, "Whatever," under his breath, as if he were too cool for school.
Aria shot him a fiery glare that could have melted steel and shot back, "Idiot." It wasn’t exactly a Shakespearean exchange, but it had all the drama of a high school soap opera.
Mina, ever the upbeat mediator, wrapped her arm around Aria's shoulders as if to protect her from the chaos of Taro's antics. "Anyway, don’t mind him. He’s just being, well—you know—Taro," she explained, trying to sound wise while stifling a laugh.
Taro, never one to miss a beat, chimed in with a smug grin plastered across his face, "And handsome!" It was a bold claim, and the hallway probably felt the collective eye roll from the two girls.
Aria responded by blowing a raspberry at him, the sound echoing dramatically off the lockers as if it were the grand finale of a comedic performance.
Mina simply shook her head, unable to contain her giggles, while Taro stood there, struck by the irony of how his self-proclaimed charm seemed to have zero effect on anyone.
"Well, if being handsome doesn’t work, I guess you’ll just have to settle for being a clown,” Aria quipped, crossing her arms with a smirk.
Taro feigned indignation, puffing out his chest, “Clown? Please! I prefer the term ‘comedic genius.’”
Mina couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“Oh sure, Taro! A comedic genius who can’t even spell ‘gorgeous’!”
"Hey, spelling wasn’t my strong suit," Taro grinned, "But my looks? Those are spellbinding!”
The trio continued down the hallway, exchanging playful banter, laughter, and the undeniable camaraderie that made even the busiest of days feel like an adventure.
"Come on! We’ll be late for class!" Mina urged.
"But what about—"
"Riku said she’d meet us there. Let’s go!" Before she knew it, Mina was dragging Aria down the hall to class. Leaving Taro behind for his class
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Hey there, Aria and Mina!” Riko called out with a bright smile as she leaned casually against the cool brick wall by the entrance of their history class. The morning sunlight poured in through the windows, adding a warm glow to the hallway that matched her cheerful vibe.
“Good morning, Riko! Did you finish the history assignment?” Mina asked as she approached, adjusting her backpack.
“Ugh, barely!” Riko laughed. “I ended up binge-watching that new series instead. Can you believe it?”
Aria chuckled, joining the conversation. “You’re going to regret that when the teacher starts grilling us on the chapters.”
Riko shrugged with a playful grin.
“I’ll just have to rely on your brilliant notes, then!”
They all laughed as they made their way to the classroom, but they were a bit too caught up in their conversation, and it ended up making them slightly late.
As they entered, the teacher shot them a disapproving glare.
Aria quickly found her seat, ducking her head to avoid eye contact and giving the teacher a sheepish smile. It was the kind of look that didn’t exactly say “sorry,” but suggested they hadn’t meant to be tardy.
“Next time, let’s try to be on time, yeah?” Mina whispered to Aria with a grin as they settled in.
Aria flashed her a usual smirk.
‘’No promises’’
…..
History class was the same old snooze-fest as usual, with the teacher droning on and on about some ancient event that none of us could care less about. It was like we were all trapped in a time loop of boredom. Seriously, half the class was either fast asleep or had perfected the art of the “pretend to listen” nod, which looked suspiciously like a weird dance move. Everyone knew it, but we were all too lazy to care.
Aria Kurohane was one of the champions of this art.
She had mastered the ability to look attentive while her mind was off exploring exciting worlds—like the one where chocolate fountains flowed freely and homework didn’t exist.
As the teacher started another impassioned tale about a battle that happened centuries ago, Aria couldn’t help but daydream about becoming a time traveler.
In her mind, Aria imagined stepping into a portal, landing right in the middle of a battlefield where knights roamed and dragons soared. “Now that’s a history lesson I’d pay attention to!” she thought.
Unfortunately, the only battle she was engaged in was the one against her eyelids, which were winning with every passing minute.
Just then, the teacher called her name, jolting her back to reality. “Aria, what do you think about the significance of this battle?”
“Uh, it was… epic?” she blurted out, not even knowing which battle they were discussing. The class erupted in snickers, and for a brief moment, the boredom lifted. Aria grinned sheepishly, thankful for the brief distraction from the relentless monotony of history.
Mina laughed
—---------------------------------------------------------------
After barely surviving History class, Aria walked down the halls, yawning loudly as she made her way to her next class: Math. It was undoubtedly one of the worst subjects—worse than History, even.
She had already started to regret it as she walked. Numbers never seemed to make sense to her, and none of her friends were in this class during this period, which left her alone to endure the torture.
As she turned the corner on her familiar route to the classroom, a flash of speed rushed toward her, colliding with her. The impact wasn’t enough to make her fall, but it caused her to lose her balance.
She steadied herself against the wall and whipped her head around, glaring at the figure who had just come to a halt in front of her.
“Hey! Watch where you're going!” she yelled, stopping short when the boy turned around, his unnatural green eyes glowing with brightness.
Silence hung between them, and for once, Aria found herself at a loss for words. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, but nothing came out.
“Sorry,” he murmured, breaking the spell that had captivated her.
Aria shook her head, her brows furrowing again. “Just watch where you’re going next time.”
With that, the boy nodded and took off again… right into the same class as her.
…
“I’m stuck with him!?” she thought, walking into the next class, trying to hide her surprise and frustration-or worse, her curiosity.
She sat down on her chair trying and failing not to notice those same damn eyes right next to her.
Their desks were beside each other.
And she decided right then and there:
Fate was weird
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Math class went on like usual, the teacher droning on about various formulas while Aria raised her hand twice to answer questions—a typical day. But what was unusual was the quiet presence at the back of the room, the one that had lodged itself in her mind like an unshakeable thought.
Those green eyes, tired yet guarded, were fixed on the board as he wrote notes with a focus that intrigued her.
Why hadn’t she noticed him before?
Her mind whirled as she tried to place him. She knew the faces of nearly every student in this school. It wasn’t just a casual acquaintance, either; Aria had an almost uncanny ability to remember details.
She could recall names, quirks, and preferences, each individual a thread woven into the tapestry of her social life. So, how had this boy escaped her radar?
She chewed on her pencil, both irritated and curious.
It bothered her more than she wanted to admit. Was he new? Had he slipped into her school unnoticed, blending into the crowd?
A fleeting thought struck her: maybe he was just as guarded as those eyes suggested,
perhaps
He simply didn’t want to be seen?
But Aria was used to bright spirits, to bouncing laughter and visible presence, not to the quiet shadow he seemed to cast. How could someone so interesting be so invisible?
Her thoughts drifted as the bell rang, releasing the class from its mathematical confines. She gathered her things, her mind still half-lost in the mystery of those green eyes.
The way he wrote—his brow slightly furrowed, attention undivided—was almost captivating.
. Did he ever laugh? Did he ever talk to anyone? Was he lonely?
Aria’s heart tugged at the thought. She’d always been the one to reach out, to draw people into her orbit, so why did the thought of this boy sitting alone trouble her so much?
Perhaps she thought she saw a reflection of her guarded moments in him—
The times when even her vibrant personality felt muted, held back by nameless fears.
“Focus, Aria,” she muttered to herself. But she felt that twinge of determination growing stronger. Maybe it was the challenge she craved.
A puzzle waiting to be solved. He wasn’t just another face; she would make it her mission to understand him, to pull him into her world.
Who knew what stories lay behind that sad facade?
For someone who knew everyone, he presented an enigma—one that her outgoing nature was eager to unravel.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first day of school ended, and Aria let out a relieved sigh.
No more Mister Green Eyes mysteries!
As she walked home, she turned her head and spotted Yuji walking ahead of her. He stopped at a crossroads.
“Yuji!” she called out, waving her arms excitedly.
The boy fidgeted visibly, slowly turning his head.
“Hi,” he said softly, his voice as quiet as she remembered from when they were little.
She caught up to him as they crossed the road.
She tilted her head. “I didn't see you in school today. Did something happen?”
Yuji looked at her, his cheeks slightly pink, and warm hands suddenly cupped his face. Examining him
“OMG, are you sick!? Do you have a fever? I’m such a bad friend; I’m so sorry I didn't notice!”
She dramatically started fake sobbing.
Yuji removed his face from her hands, turning his head away to avoid her gaze. “No, really, I’m fine. I just thought I’d spend some time in the library for a bit.”
She looked at him with skepticism. “If you’re sure,” she finally said, wiping away her fake tears.
Yuji nodded.
Aria often worried about her childhood friend; he was quiet and shy, and socializing didn’t come as easily to him as it did to her.
It made it hard to read his emotions.
She didn’t try to baby him; she knew that would upset him, and like the kind, awkward guy he was, he wouldn’t have said anything.
So, Aria started to listen more than she talked.
There were A LOT of things to learn that way.
As they reached their neighborhood, Aria waved goodbye to Yuji.
(They lived right next to each other.)
“See you tomorrow?” she asked. There was a slight pause from him.
“Yeah, see you,” he smiled at her.
She brightened at that.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As the darkness enveloped the world outside, Aria finished her nightly routine and climbed into bed, feeling the softness of the mattress beneath her.
With a contented sigh, she nestled under the blanket, letting it drape lazily over her. Her gaze drifted to the window, where the moon cast its shimmering gray light, illuminating the sky with its glow, the stars twinkling like scattered diamonds around it.
Today had come to an end, and with that thought lingered a bittersweet sense of closure lingered.
But tomorrow promised a new beginning. She could already picture the morning: a bowl of cereal,
the familiar noises of her loud younger brother bursting into the kitchen, her crazy uncle’s jokes echoing in the air,
her mom’s gentle concern woven into every conversation,
and the delightful chaos that her friends inevitably brought.
And then there was him—the boy with the blonde hair and mesmerizing green eyes that sparkled like precious gems. The thought of him sent confusing butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
As Aria closed her eyes, a smile tugged at her lips.
What new adventures awaited her? What secrets would unfold with the dawn? The night was full of possibilities, and she couldn't wait to embrace them.
Notes:
New chapter every Friday
Chapter 3: "The Curse of Being Garmadon’s Son"
Summary:
Everyone avoids Lloyd. Aria, who hates fake people, calls out the class. Lloyd is stunned.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The next morning began like any other for Aria. She took a bite of French toast while slinging her heavy school bag over her shoulder.
With a slight grin, she navigated the bustling school halls, her mind buzzing with the usual chatter.
In the midst of it all, she had all but pushed away thoughts of the green-eyed boy. He had occupied her mind for days, but now, those distractions faded.
Instead, her focus shifted to the pressing reality of her math homework, which was due that very day.
With a sigh, she wondered how she would manage to complete it on time.
"Hey, Twins!" Aria called out as she approached Riku and Taro, who were locked in yet another heated debate over something trivial that she had long grown accustomed to.
Riku turned to her, a bright smile breaking through her brother's frustrated tirade.
"Morning, Aria!" she chimed, effortlessly silencing Taro by covering his mouth with her hand, which only added to his annoyance.
Aria stifled a laugh at the sight.
"So, Mina texted me last night," Riku began, shaking her head.
"She’s sick again! Honestly, that girl catches the flu like it’s a sport. It’s like she has a personal vendetta against healthy living! At this rate, she should just invest in a lifetime supply of chicken soup and cozy blankets."
"She should share her secret with me if it means skipping out on math classes," Aria quipped, her tone dry and playful.
Riku couldn't help but roll her eyes before delivering a playful slap to Taro's head with her free hand. After a moment, she lifted her hand from his mouth, satisfied that he had received enough punishment for now.
Taro grumbled something about having 'siblings' and 'annoying sisters.'
Aria lightly punched his arm, a playful smile on her face. "See? I told you, bad boys get their comeuppance."
"Oh, so I’m a bad boy now?" he said, raising an eyebrow with a cheeky smirk.
"Absolutely! Just keep embracing your inner bad boy," she teased back, her laughter ringing out.
Taro rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the grin forming on his lips.
Riku wrinkled her nose dramatically, pretending to gag.
"Ugh, your friendship-definitely-not-a-romance is so disgustingly gross!"
‘’You're just jealous,’’ Taro replied instantly
‘’Of you two? No way!’’
‘’Thanks,’’ Aria said dryly.
‘’You're welcome,’’ Riku says unhelpfully, clearly too pleased with herself.
As Aria looked around the bustling room, a sense of unease settled over her. "I haven't seen Yuji today either," she thought, concern creeping into her mind.
It was unusual for him to be absent, especially on a day like today when he said he would see her. She glanced at her phone, hoping for a message or an update, but there was nothing.
The thought of him not being around made her heart race. Had something happened? Was he okay? She shrugged off her worries, trying to focus on the task at hand, but her mind kept drifting back to where Yuji was
Aria searches again around the bustling hall… still no sign.‘’Hey, has anyone seen Yuji?’’
Riku tapped her chin as if thinking.
I thought I saw him walking out of the library earlier. Why?’’
Aria shook her head. If Yuji wanted to talk, he would come.
‘’No reason, just wondering’’
Taro shrugged, shoved his hands into his pockets, and started to walk away.
Taro shrugged, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, the weight of indifference hanging in the air between them.
“Well, whatever. I’ve got to get to first period. See you,” he muttered, not bothering to look back as he walked away.
Aria called out after him. “Bye!”
He raised his hand in acknowledgment, a silent gesture that he heard her.
A small smile tugged at her lips, and she thought, dumb idiot.
Before she could linger on her thoughts, Riku pulled her away. “Come on. Taro is right; first period is starting soon. Yuji will meet us later,” she said, her tone brisk yet understanding.
Aria nodded, responding with a soft, “Okay.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Aria tapped her pencil on the desk absentmindedly as the teacher's words faded into a blur, like background noise.
And frankly, she didn’t care.
The green-eyed boy was also in this class, but he sat at the back of the room, isolating himself from everyone, perhaps even from himself.
She wasn’t oblivious to the constant whispers circulating in the room, nor was she unaware that she had a pretty good idea of who those whispers were about.
After she learned who the green-eyed boy was, Lloyd was his name.—thanks to her inquiry to Riku (that girl seems to sniff out gossip as if it’s her life’s purpose)—Riku's eyes widened when Aria asked about him.
Suddenly, Aria regretted that she had asked, as Riku launched into a scolding about her “oblivious, emotional self,” and then proceeded to share every little detail she knew.
Which was...
A lot.
Aria felt very concerned afterward.
Anyway, she had spent little of the morning wrapping her head around it before promptly forgetting as soon as her mom served her breakfast.
But now the thoughts were invading her brain once more,
Leaving her with more questions than answers
She tilted her head
Son of an evil former warlord
Huh
That must suck
She dared steal a glance at him, but his head was down and he wasn’t meeting anyone’s gaze. Avoiding the world, believing that if he didn't, the world would strike back at him.
She studied him for a moment longer before redirecting her attention back to the teacher.
A few minutes had passed.
The bell rang.
Students around her began packing up.
She had been pushing her textbook into her bag.
Then she heard it.
"Man, I feel bad for him. It must be hard having Lord Garmadon as your father," a guy said mockingly to his friends, who snickered in response.
"Yeah, don't feel bad. Imagine having an evil monster as a dad. I mean, that’s just another monster in the making," another guy added.
His friends laughed—mocking laughter.
But when Aria glanced over at Lloyd, he acted like he didn’t hear them. He just walked past them toward the doors, pretending the words did not affect him.
But Aria noticed the subtle grip on his bag—the way his fingers tensed more than necessary.
She hated it, not because of the stupid boys laughing as if it were a joke, or because everyone heard and stayed silent. No, it was because Lloyd walked past them without saying a word, simply ignoring them.
She wasn’t mad at him. She was angry that even if Lloyd decided to say something, it would likely only make things worse.
He knew it.
Aria clenched her teeth.
She was about to do something very foolish.
Not that it would stop her.
‘’That’s not funny,’’ she growled
The men turned to her, one of them tilted their head.
‘’...what?’’
‘’I said that’s not funny’’
The students still in the classroom were all looking now.
Llyod had paused at the door.
One guy shrugged casually. ‘’ What’s the deal? Everyone knows who his dad is.’’
‘’It’s not like he chose which father he wants, he didn't ask for his dad to be evil, and he certainly doesn't need A COUPLE OF LOSERS MAKING IT WORSE’’
Her voice was rising now, and she had walked right up to one of the guys, inching her face closer.
He flinched
‘’I don’t think you would know what it’s like '' she continued. ‘’So, out of respect for him, stay out of it’’
The guy opened his mouth to respond, but she interrupted him.
‘’If I hear so much as a whisper about this, I’ll come hunting you down myself’’
She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing.
‘’Got that?’’
The guys all nodded quickly before running out the door, clearly frightened.
Everyone was still staring after the adrenaline that was running through her veins just a moment ago was gone.
She suddenly realized her situation.
Internally, her mind was screaming. ‘’WHY THE HELL DID I DO THAT? WHAT WAS I THINKING!?’’
Outside, though, her face still tinged with rage, was calmer now.
The students turned their heads to each other, whispering and then glancing at her occasionally.
She frowned, grabbed her backpack, and started heading out the door.
‘’This school is full of scums’’ she muttered walking right past Llyod who stood their, mouth a little parted, his emerald eyes showed surprised and shock
Aria didn't give him the time to say a word before she had already walked out of the classroom and disappeared into the crowded halls.
Right now, she was speed walking as quickly as she could down the halls, not looking where she was going.
Her mind was frazzled.
She was very much confused, shocked at herself for doing that.
She barely knew him, and he barely knew her.
Yet…
She couldn’t handle the thought of seeing someone getting bullied.
Not when Lloyd had done nothing wrong
It was stupid to blame a child because you're scared of what the problem is.
Aria hated it, she hated it so much.
It was outrageous
No one deserved that kind of treatment, no matter their history.
‘’Bunch of numbskulls this school is filled with,’’ she muttered
She didn’t see Lloyd again until lunch.
She was eating with her friends in the cafeteria.
Nothing was out of the ordinary – just the usual chaos brought by Taro, the chatter Riko contributed, and the quiet but steady presence of Yuji.
But she felt it as soon as the doors swung open.
Bright green eyes glanced at her briefly, yet noticeably.
She didn’t turn her head, pretending not to notice, and focused on the sounds of her friends instead.
The eyes were gone; she heard Lloyd talking to his friends as they sat at a table further away from hers.
Riku nudged her and said loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Why is Lloyd of all people staring at you?"
Taro dropped his juice box.
Yuji turned his head, his eyes widening slightly.
Aria felt like sinking into the ground.
"I... stood up for him in class when some guys started talking trash. Nothing big," she mumbled.
Taro's eyes widened even more comically. "You did what!?" he screamed, and Aria had to clamp her hand over his mouth.
A couple of people nearby glanced at them in confusion.
"Quiet down, will you?" she hissed. She sat at a table in the bustling cafeteria, surrounded by the familiar soundtrack of her friends. The air was thick with the typical noise: Taro’s animated antics, Riko’s lively chatter filled with laughter, and Yuji’s calm, reassuring presence anchored the group.
Everything felt normal until the moment the cafeteria doors swung open with a clatter.
Suddenly, a pair of bright green eyes swept across the room and locked onto her for a fleeting moment, sending an unexpected jolt through her.
Forcing herself to stay focused, she didn’t turn to look, pretending not to notice the gaze that seemed to pierce her thoughts. Instead, she concentrated on the comforting sounds of her friends' conversations enveloping her like a familiar blanket.
But then she noticed the eyes had disappeared, the sound of Lloyd’s voice filtering through as he settled at a table farther away with his friends.
Just then, Riku nudged her, breaking her thoughts, and his voice rang out loudly, cutting through the clamor of the cafeteria. “Why is Lloyd, of all people, staring at you?”
Taro, caught off guard, dropped his juice box, the small explosion of liquid adding to the chaos around them.
Yuji turned his head swiftly, his eyes suddenly widening in shock.
Aria felt heat rise in her cheeks, wishing she could just vanish into the ground beneath her.
“I... stood up for him in class when some guys started talking trash. It was nothing big,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.
Taro’s eyes bulged wider, almost comically. “You did what!?” he exclaimed, the volume of his shock loud enough to attract the attention of nearby tables, prompting Aria to quickly clamp her hand over his mouth.
A few people glanced over, their expressions a mix of curiosity and confusion.
“Quiet down, will you?” she hissed, her heart racing as she fought to melt back into the safety of her friend’s chatter.
“Are you… friends with Lloyd?” Yuji asked quietly.
Aria shrugged and shook her head. “We’re just in a few classes together. We ran into each other in the hallway once.”
“And now he’s staring at you! There’s more going on that you’re not telling us,” Riko said with a cheeky grin, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Nothing is going on!” Aria said, teeth clenched in frustration.
Taro rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right, Kuro-chan.”
Aria shot them a glare, annoyance flashing in her eyes.
‘’You always are standing up for people, huh…..’’ Yuji says softly, a small smile forming on his lips
Aria smiles, nudging Yuji playfully ‘’You know me so well’’
Riko stands up, stretching ‘’Well, whatever it is, I’ll probably know by tomorrow morning., News like that spreads quickly.
She grins, reminding Aria why she never asks where she gets all the gossip about every single person from.
Aria stood up too. "See you tomorrow then! I have to run. My mom gave me an errand to do after school."
They all said their goodbyes, and a few minutes later, the school bell rang.
Aria quickly grabbed her things and headed out the school doors, being careful not to run into Lloyd for now.
I’m still processing that.
It was only the second day back from summer break, and she already felt overwhelmed with second-hand embarrassment. Memories of the summer flooded her mind— carefree moments that felt worlds away now.
She slapped her forehead and groaned.
“Fate is oddly invested in my life all of a sudden for some strange reason. I spent 17 years living a somewhat normal life.”
“Fate is just trying to be a jackass.”
Notes:
New chapter every Friday
I also didn't notice while I was writing until the very end, that I spelled Riko's name as 'Riku'
My bad
Chapter 4: "You Gonna Thank Me or Keep Staring?" pt 1.
Summary:
Basically, Aria starts teasing Lloyd. He’s awkward. She finds it hilarious.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Lloyd was deep in thought—or, more accurately, his mind was racing.
It all started with one girl who captured his attention during a brief encounter in the hallways. It wasn’t a full conversation, but for Lloyd Garmadon, it was more interaction than he was accustomed to.
Usually, he interacted with fellow students who either shot him looks or simply ignored him. He had become used to that, to the point where it felt almost normal.
Lloyd caught her glancing at him many times in class (she wasn't as subtle as she thought she was). Naturally, he tried to avoid her gaze.
In an ideal world, that would have worked.
But in the not-so-ideal world he lived in, life grew more complicated. Every part of him wanted to go up to her and at least say thank you for standing up for him.
His green ninja instincts were not kicking in. It was a matter of fight or flight.
Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon chose flight.
—----------------------------------
“Lloyd!”
Lloyd blinked and finally realized that Kai was right in front of him, leaning against his locker and waving his hand as if trying to get his attention through a wall.
“What’s up?” he replied, still feeling a bit dazed.
Kai let out a dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes. “Seriously? I had to call you five times before you even noticed! What’s going on with you, man?”
“Nothing,” Lloyd answered a bit too quickly.
It seemed that Fate was testing poor Lloyd today because, to his dismay, Zane chimed in, rather unhelpfully, “Your heart rate has increased by 30 percent since yesterday. That’s rather strange.”
Lloyd blinked. “What?”
Kai grinned.
Nya turned to see what was going on.
Jay suddenly stopped talking, his mouth hanging open in surprise.
Lloyd shot an annoyed look at Zane, who didn’t seem to care at all.
Zane met his glare calmly like he hadn’t just crossed a line.
Lloyd felt like he could disappear into the floor, bracing himself for the flood of questions that was coming.
Kai dramatically pointed a finger at him and exclaimed, “AHA! I knew something was up; the ‘Kai instinct’ never fails!”
Nya locked eyes with him, her intense gaze something Lloyd had learned to fear over the years of fighting and training together. He gulped but managed a nervous smile.
“Tell me everything. Now.”
“Nothing happened, really—” he attempted to brush it off, waving his hand dismissively, but he was abruptly cut off by Jay, who wore an expression of sheer enthusiasm that was hard to miss.
“Oh my God! Who is it? Is it a girl, huh?!” Jay’s voice escalated, his eyes gleaming with curiosity as he practically bounced on his feet. “I NEED TO KNOW!”
With wide eyes and flushed cheeks, Jay gripped his shoulders with a fervor that made it impossible for him to stay still, shaking him minutely as he almost screamed into his ear, resembling an overexcited monkey.
Meanwhile, Cole couldn’t help but double over with laughter; apparently, Lloyd’s misery was a funny show.
Lloyd sighed, running a hand through his hair. “So, like, there’s this girl in my class, Aria. You know, the one who stood up for me when those bullies were talking trash again?”
Nya nudged Jay off his shoulder and leaned in closer, clearly intrigued. “Wait, she stood up for you? What did she say?”
“Yeah,” Lloyd continued, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “I was just ignoring them like I usually do, and then she just walked right up to them and said something. I don’t even know what exactly, but it felt like she was defending me.”
“Dude, that’s awesome!” Jay exclaimed, finally looking more interested. “So, what happened next?”
Lloyd hesitated, his expression shifting to disappointment. “Well, she left before I could thank her. I didn’t even get the chance to say anything. It’s just… I don’t know. I’m still confused about it all.”
The other ninjas exchanged glances, clearly sensing that there was more to Lloyd’s feelings than he was letting on.
‘’That’s new,’’ Kai finally whispered, breaking the silence
Nya narrowed her eyes ‘’I don’t believe it’’
Jay's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Aria!? You mean Aria, the most outgoing person in the entire school? That Aria!?”
Lloyd nodded in response.
Zane blinked, his icy blue eyes shining. “It is rather strange that a girl like that would stand up for you. This is quite intriguing.”
“Who cares! We have to meet her, Lloyd! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” Jay exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement.
"FSM should take him now," Lloyd muttered.
Cole raised his hand and pointed it directly at Lloyd. “You need to thank her, right now, green boy.”
Nya nodded in agreement, giving him a light smack on the arm. “Even if we don’t know why she did it, having another person on our side would be great.”
Jay continued to bounce around, yelling in enthusiasm.
Just then, the bell rang, signaling the start of the next class.
Before Lloyd left, Kai grinned and whispered, “Go get her, lover boy.”
Before Lloyd could turn around and glare at him, Kai had already left.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lloyd settled into his desk in the corner of the classroom, a secluded spot that felt both safe and lonely, far from the chatter of his classmates.
Across the room, Aria sat engrossed in her world, her long, bright orange hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, not once glancing in his direction.
Despite the distance, Lloyd’s eyes were irresistibly drawn to her.
Countless times, he had summoned the courage to speak to her, only to be met with the weight of his hesitation, leaving him silent.
The teacher’s voice merged into a distant hum, barely breaking through the fog of his thoughts. The rustle of paper and the faint whispers of other students faded into the background as his focus remained fixed on Aria.
His striking emerald green eyes flickered back and forth between the blank pages of his notebook and the girl who occupied his mind.
"It's just two words," he quietly reminded himself, a mantra that echoed in his head.
Then why was it so incredibly hard?
The class was done, but Lloyd couldn’t tell if it felt short or long.
What he did know was that Aria walked straight over to him once everyone else left. Before Lloyd could get a word out, she grinned and said,
“So… are you gonna thank me or just waiting for the perfect moment, Greenie?” She teased.
Lloyd couldn’t respond.
She just walked away casually, leaving the classroom, leaving only him inside the empty classroom.
Lloyd groans, dramatically falling his head on the table.
The only thought in his mind was:
I’m going to die
Notes:
Sorry, this chapter was wayyy overdue.
I got sick, so i was a helpless puddle for a while. I decided to combine the next chapter with pt 2 of this to make an extra long chapter to make up for the words i did in this chapter.
new chapter every friday
Chapter 5: Ch4 – "Lloyd’s Hidden Bruise"
Summary:
A training mishap leaves Lloyd limping at school. Aria helps him to the nurse and sees a glimpse of who he is. yeah that's basically it
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Lloyd doesn’t see Aria again after that moment.
On one hand, it’s a relief. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself again, tripping over his words like a complete fool. But on the other hand, disappointment gnaws at him—he never got the chance to thank her.
A girl’s teasing bested the green ninja.
Yeah. That tracks.
She hadn’t even been subtle about it, either. Her sneaky glances in class were anything but discreet. He caught her looking his way more than once. And sure, he tried to ignore it, tried to make himself invisible, but he couldn’t help being curious. A girl like her—cool, confident—being interested in him?
It didn’t make sense.
Still, the memory of yesterday clung to him: Aria standing up to the bullies like it was nothing. For him. And what had he done? Practically run away. No thanks, no acknowledgment. Just pure, awkward silence.
Not this time.
He was going to thank her today. No more awkwardly backing out. No more hiding behind excuses.
He told himself that.
He’d probably regret it later.
But he was going to do it anyway.
Lloyd hurried down the bustling hallway, his heart racing as he navigated through clusters of students chatting and laughing.
He was quick to collect his books from his locker before his next class, which was always a challenge in the chaos of the school day. And he would rather get away from all the whispers and stares as soon as possible, he thought.
He pushed the heavy metal door of his locker closed with a determined shove, but as he turned to leave, he found himself on a collision course with Aria, who was rushing by with her books clutched tightly against her chest.
This time, it wasn’t just a close call. She bumped into him unexpectedly, her shoulder lightly colliding with his chest, causing several of his books to slip from his grip and tumble to the floor with a soft thud.
“Oh!” Aria exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise. She quickly met his gaze, her expression a mix of embarrassment and intrigue.
In that instant, time seemed to freeze around them. Lloyd and Aria were locked in an intense stare, a feeling of connection sparking between them that felt almost electric. The bustling hallway, filled with the noise of laughter, shuffling feet, and slamming lockers, faded into the background, becoming a backdrop. Everything else became irrelevant as they stood there, momentarily captivated by one another.
As the vibrant energy of the hallway swirled around them, it was as if they were in their little world, a bubble of shared awareness amidst the throng of students rushing by. They remained like that, lost in the moment, their eyes communicating a warmth and curiosity that neither had anticipated.
Finally, breaking the enchantment, Aria cast her gaze downward, her cheeks flushing slightly from the unexpected intimacy of the pause.
Lloyd took a small step back, trying to regain his composure as the reality of the busy hallway rushed back in.
She coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck with a hint of nervous energy.
"Is she embarrassed right now?" he pondered, blinking at her in surprise. "I never imagined someone like her could feel self-conscious."
"Uh, sorry about that. Looks like I ran into you this time, huh?" she said with a light chuckle that hinted at an unspoken connection.
He nodded, a grin creeping onto his face. "Yeah, I guess we're even now?"
She smiled back, a spark of warmth reflected in her eyes. "I guess so."
Lloyd felt his heart race a bit at the sight of her smile; it made him feel lighter, as if they were sharing a moment untouched by the world's judgment. It was strange, considering how much he often questioned why she would want to be near him. Even so, it felt nice—almost like the beginning of something uncharted.
But just as the moment settled, she paused, a flicker of realization crossing her face.
"Oh my God! I'm going to be late for class again! Shit—sorry, I, uh, gotta go!" Before he could respond, she dashed past him, her energy leaving a trace of anticipation in the air.
He turned around, hands in his pockets, a small smile lingering on his lips.
"Bye then," he whispered, wondering what other encounters lay ahead and maybe,
If someone was involved in it
It took him all the way to reach his next class that he remembered-
‘’I FORGOT TO THANK HER AGAIN!’’
Lloyd probably hated high school. Or maybe “hate” wasn’t strong enough. He loathed the bland hallways, the sterile classrooms, the never-ending grind of textbooks and chalkboard lectures. It wasn’t even the material—he could grasp the concepts easily enough. Master Wu had already taught him most of what these teachers struggled to explain. Ancient history? He’d lived it. Strategy? He breathed it. And calculus? He could map out the trajectory of a Spinjitzu burst mid-air—he didn’t need a textbook to tell him how numbers worked.
The problem was everything else.
The murmur of whispers behind his back. The sideways glances. The hushed tones when someone dared say his name out loud. He knew what they were thinking—That’s Lord Garmadon’s son. That’s the Green Ninja. It was never just Lloyd. No matter how hard he tried to blend into the crowd, his past, his bloodline, his destiny trailed after him like a shadow he couldn’t shake.
But maybe that was the ironic part—most people didn’t look at him at all. Not really. They looked at what he represented. A name in a headline. A myth in the making. He wasn’t a person to them. He was a title, a rumor, a ghost walking the same halls as they did. And strangely… that helped.
Because when people didn’t look too closely, he could disappear.
No fanfare. No pressure. No one is asking for autographs or favors, or heroic speeches. Just another student in a sea of uniforms, dragging his feet to class, doodling in the margins of his notes. It was the only place where he didn’t have to be anyone but himself. The burden of being the Green Ninja, the protector of Ninjago, the leader of a legendary team—it all felt a little lighter here, in between the buzzing fluorescent lights and echoing bell tones.
Lloyd knew the city counted on him. He knew there would always be another villain, another disaster, another impossible decision. \
But for a few hours each day, tucked behind a scratched-up desk and half-listening to a lecture on imperial dynasties he already knew by heart… he could pretend. Pretend that he was just a normal kid. Just Lloyd. No green energy. No destiny. No legacy.
And honestly? Being a nobody had never felt so refreshing.
School had let out hours ago.
Lloyd had barely made it through the final bell before heading back to the monastery. The moment he dropped his backpack in his room, he grabbed a quick snack—just enough to keep him upright—then made his way outside to the courtyard with his training gear slung over one shoulder.
He didn’t waste time. His body moved on instinct, going through warm-up stretches under the fading light, limbs slow but deliberate. Then came the practice. Dummies stood lined like silent opponents, and he greeted them with precise, focused strikes—nothing flashy, nothing too draining.
Just enough to sweat the day out of his system.
Jab. Side hit. Repeat.
Punch, kick, punch, kick. Rhythm steady. Breathing even.
The courtyard echoed with the sharp sound of contact, his fists slamming into the targets with quiet fury. No enemies, no explosions, no dragons or destinies to worry about—just movement. Control. Repetition.
The sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of orange and lavender. Lloyd finally slowed, shoulders rising and falling with exhaustion. His hair clung damp to his forehead, sweat trickled down his temple, and his clothes stuck uncomfortably to his back. Still, he stood for a long moment in silence, letting the wind cool his skin.
Eventually, he dropped to the ground with a grunt and reached for the bottle of cold water waiting nearby. He smiled faintly when he saw the note attached in Nya’s neat handwriting:
"Don’t overdo it, Lloyd. Or I swear I’ll drag your prophesied ass back inside."
He chuckled, taking a long drink.
As he went to screw the cap back on, a sharp pain jolted through his left wrist. He winced, sucking in a breath as he curled forward slightly, clutching his hand.
"Guess I overworked myself today," he muttered, massaging the sore spot.
It wasn’t unusual. Ninja life came with bruises, cuts, and the occasional sprain—it was practically a rite of passage at this point. Still, it would probably earn him a scolding if Nya caught wind of it. His mom would probably want him to ice it, wrap it, and cancel training for a week. That wasn’t happening.
For now, a simple bandage would do. He just needed it to last through tomorrow.
Dusting himself off, Lloyd pushed to his feet and made his way back into the monastery. Inside, the air was warm and loud with the sound of shouting and laughter from the living room.
Jay and Kai were camped on the couch, locked in a dramatic video game battle, fingers flying over their controllers. Zane sat beside them like a calm island in a storm, nose buried in a book, doing his best to pretend he didn’t hear any of it.
Lloyd raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
Kai didn’t even look up. “Oh, calm down, Grandpa. We have already trained. You're the one out here doing bonus rounds like it's the end of the world.”
Jay nodded, laser-focused on the screen. “Zane said you were giving off major ‘serious brooding energy,’ so we figured we'd leave you to it—HEY! THAT WAS MY MONSTER, KAI!”
Kai scoffed. “Then maybe don’t be so slow, Jay!”
“Not true! I HAD IT!”
The bickering grew louder, controllers clacking like weapons, insults flying. Zane, as always, remained completely unfazed.
Lloyd tuned it out, shaking his head with a tired smile. He slipped past the chaos, heading down the hallway toward his room.
The door shut behind him with a soft click, sealing out the noise.
He let himself fall forward onto the bed with a long, exhausted groan, burying his face into the blanket and dragging his pillow into a hug. The warmth of the sheets welcomed him, and for a moment, he let his eyes close.
His wrist throbbed with dull pain, and every muscle in his body felt like it had been rung out—but beneath it all, there was a strange comfort. The ache meant he had done something. Pushed himself. Gotten stronger.
Even if it wasn’t much, even if it hurt now, it was worth it.
A small, tired smile tugged at his lips.
“I’m gonna feel this at school later,” he mumbled into the blanket.
And yet, he didn’t regret a single punch.
The next day at school, Lloyd had mastered the ancient art of invisibility.
Not in the magical, ninja-skill way—though he was technically a ninja. No, this was something more… delicate. The subtle art of making yourself disappear in plain sight. The moment he and the rest of the Ninja set foot on school grounds, Lloyd practically bolted ahead, his footsteps quick and suspiciously quiet for someone wearing sneakers.
He didn’t even glance back to see if Kai was teasing him, or if Nya had noticed. He was in stealth mode.
To anyone else, it might’ve looked like a normal walk to class. But Lloyd knew better. He was deploying evasive maneuvers. Cutting corners. Changing hallways. Sticking to the edges of the crowd. Channeling every ounce of his inner Green Ninja energy into one goal: Avoid being seen.
Specifically, avoid being seen with the Ninja when she is around.
It wasn’t that he was hoping to bump into Aria today. Not at all. Obviously.
It was just… strategic. That was it. Tactical timing. Environmental awareness. Low-profile navigation. All essential skills for someone trying to avoid a repeat of yesterday’s disaster, where Jay had grinned way too wide, and Kai had nudged him hard enough to nearly knock the books out of his arms when they saw her walk by. “Is that the girl from music class? Oooooh, Lloyd’s got a—” Yeah. Never again.
So today, he was keeping it professional. Ninja business only. Focused. Controlled.
Not watching the math wing doors out of the corner of his eye.
And even if he was—even if he maybe thought about what he would say if he did see her—there was a perfectly normal explanation for that.
He hadn’t thanked her yet.
Right. That was important. Politeness. Common courtesy. No big deal.
“Besides,” he had muttered under his breath that morning in the mirror, brushing his hair into something that maybe looked like he didn’t care (but he did), “I still have to thank her. That’s just being polite. Nothing else.”
He’d nodded like that made it true. Like repeating it enough would make the weird flutter in his chest go away.
It didn’t.
So now here he was, zigzagging through lockers like some kind of green-haired ghost, all while pretending he wasn’t hoping—not even a little bit—that he’d spot her again. Just for a second. Just to say thanks.
Nothing else.
Absolutely nothing else.
Probably.
Lloyd made it to his locker without incident—no ambush from Kai, no suspicious side-eyes from Jay, and most importantly: no sudden appearances by a certain math class girl.
He let out a slow breath, relaxing for the first time all morning. Victory. Sweet, silent, ninja-like victory.
Until—
“You know,” a voice said from right behind him, “for someone trained in stealth, you’re really bad at sneaking around.”
Lloyd flinched so hard he nearly knocked his head on the open locker door. He turned, already red-faced, to find Aria standing there with a perfectly innocent expression—and eyes that absolutely betrayed her amusement.
“I—I wasn’t sneaking,” he stammered. “I was… walking.”
“Fast,” she added. “Like someone trying to outrun their own blush.”
“I wasn’t blushing!”
“Now you are.”
Lloyd practically folded into himself, clutching his backpack straps like they might help him teleport out of the hallway. “Were you… waiting for me or something?”
Aria raised an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume the world revolves around you, Greenie.”
“I didn’t—! That’s not what I meant—!”
She burst out laughing, and Lloyd, against his better judgment, smiled. A little. It was hard not to. Her laugh was easy and warm and absolutely at his expense.
“Relax,” she said, nudging his elbow. “You dropped your pencil yesterday and I still have it, so I figured I’d return it. But watching you try to flee like you’re on a secret mission is honestly more entertaining.”
“I wasn’t fleeing.”
“Sure. And I’m not the one making you forget how to talk.”
Lloyd groaned into his hoodie sleeve. “You are so annoying.”
“Aw,” Aria said, grinning, “you do think about me.”
He was going to melt. Right here. Right in front of the lockers.
Aria held out the pencil between two fingers. “Here. So you can stop running from your responsibilities… and your school supplies.”
He took it without meeting her eyes. “Thanks.”
“Anytime, green boy.”
As she turned to head off to class, Lloyd caught himself staring—not in a weird way, just in a… curious one. Because no one teased him like that. Not even the Ninja. With them it was all brotherly roughhousing and sarcastic remarks. But Aria? Aria said things that made his brain short-circuit and his chest feel like someone had replaced his ribs with jelly.
He was still replaying the conversation ten minutes later when Kai caught up to him and immediately narrowed his eyes.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
“I’m not.”
Kai smirked. “Uh-huh. Sure.”
By the time lunch rolled around, Lloyd’s wrist was screaming.
He’d done his best to ignore it all morning. Held his books in his good hand. Bit his tongue every time a twinge shot up his arm. Pretended not to wince when the door to math class slipped from someone’s grip and smacked right into his shoulder.
He was fine. It wasn’t that bad. Just sore.
Except… it was that bad.
He hadn't told anyone what happened during training yesterday. Master Wu had warned him not to get careless mid-flip, but of course he had trained too repeatedly, landed too hard, and felt something pull. Now it was swollen, stiff, and wrapped tight under his hoodie sleeve, hidden beneath layers of silence and shame.
He couldn’t go to the school nurse. Couldn’t risk anyone asking how it happened. Couldn’t let them figure out what he was.
It was already bad enough being him.
The son of Lord Garmadon. The school’s living, breathing bad-luck charm.
Whispers followed him everywhere—low murmurs behind lockers, pitying glances from teachers, disgust from classmates. Everyone remembered the way the sky turned red that one awful day when Garmadon had attacked the city. They remembered the destruction. The fear. The panic.
And even though Lloyd hadn’t done any of that—wasn’t anything like his father—it didn’t matter.
To them, he was just a walking reminder of everything they hated.
So he kept his head down. Took the blame. Took the cold shoulders. Took the bruises—physical and otherwise—and kept going.
Today, though, the pain was making it harder.
He’d just managed to shove open the cafeteria door with his elbow when a voice piped up beside him, playful and too observant for its own good.
“Are you limping?”
Lloyd stiffened. “No.”
Aria tilted her head, clearly not buying it. “Pretty sure I just saw you wince. And you didn’t even grab your tray—wait, hang on.” She jogged ahead and returned a moment later with a tray balanced in one hand and a raised eyebrow. “Do I have to feed you, or are you gonna explain what’s up with your wrist?”
Lloyd felt his ears go hot. “I don’t—It’s nothing.”
“Oh, great. You’ve got that tone,” she said, sliding into the seat across from him. “The classic ‘I’m totally fine even though I look like I got run over by a vending machine’ tone.”
“I didn’t get run over.”
“Okay, so something happened.”
“Aria.”
Her name came out sharper than he meant it to, and the look that flickered across her face made guilt twist in his chest. But instead of backing off, she leaned in—calmer now, but still watching him like she was peeling back layers.
“Lloyd,” she said, more softly, “can I see it?”
He hesitated. Everything in him screamed no. If she saw the bruising, if she asked how it happened—if anyone overheard—
But she wasn’t mocking him. Not right now. Not teasing or smirking. Just… looking at him. Patient. Steady.
He exhaled and rolled up his hoodie sleeve.
The skin was puffy and discolored around the wrist, a faint purplish hue creeping up toward his palm. Her eyes widened just a bit.
“Lloyd—this looks bad.”
“It’s just a sprain,” he mumbled. “I’ve had worse.”
“That doesn’t mean you should ignore it,” she said, frowning. “Why didn’t you go to the nurse?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I just—can’t, okay?” He yanked the sleeve back down, cradling his arm close again. “People already talk enough. If I show up with something like this, they’ll just—say stuff.”
“What, like you got into a fight? Or broke something again like your dad?”
The words hung between them like a slap, and Aria’s face instantly fell.
“Oh. Oh, crap. I didn’t mean—I’m sorry—”
Lloyd didn’t answer.
“I wasn’t trying to be like them,” she said quickly. “I swear, Lloyd. That’s not who I am.”
“I know,” he said quietly.
There was a long pause. She didn’t look away.
Then, just as gently, she said, “Come on. Let me take you to the nurse. I won’t ask questions. I won’t say anything. I just… I don’t like seeing you pretend it doesn’t hurt.”
And for the first time, Lloyd didn’t argue. Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the ache in his wrist. Maybe it was just… nice. Having someone care.
He let her walk beside him.
Not ahead. Not behind.
Beside.
The nurse was thankfully too busy to ask many questions.
She gave Lloyd a once-over, gently prodded the swelling, and muttered something about "kids these days never knowing when to rest." Then she wrapped his wrist in a proper support bandage, told him to avoid lifting anything heavy, and handed him a small pack of ice before sending them on their way.
Aria stood off to the side the whole time, arms crossed, acting like she had nothing to do with it. But the second they were out in the hall again, the act dropped. She glanced over at him, chewing her lip, then dug into her bag.
"Here," she said, holding something out.
Lloyd blinked. "What is that?"
"A bandage."
It was a tiny, cartoon-covered adhesive bandage. There were smiling frogs on it.
He stared. "...Seriously?"
“Yup.” She peeled the paper off and slapped it onto the edge of his wrist brace with zero hesitation. “There. Now you’re officially cured.”
Lloyd looked down at the ridiculous little frog smiling up at him like everything was fine.
His brain completely short-circuited.
“You’re welcome,” she added, casually slinging her bag over one shoulder. “Frog bandages are scientifically proven to be the most powerful kind of healing. Source: me.”
“You really didn’t have to—”
“I didn’t. That’s why it’s fun.”
She winked.
He nearly tripped over his own feet.
They walked in silence for a while, and for once, it wasn’t awkward. Not the kind Lloyd was used to anyway. He felt like he was standing in some weird in-between space—like the walls he’d built around himself had quietly opened a window when he wasn’t looking.
And she’d just… climbed through it. No big deal. Like it was normal.
Like anyone could do that.
Except no one ever did.
Most people barely looked at him unless it was to glare or whisper. Most people didn’t care if he was hurting. Most people would’ve let him limp off alone.
But Aria had stayed.
She hadn’t asked too many questions. She hadn’t pushed. She’d just been there.
Lloyd felt like his brain was on fire and his heart was trying to karate-kick its way out of his chest.
He risked a glance at her.
She was humming quietly to herself now, perfectly unbothered, as if she hadn’t just completely flipped his day upside down with a frog bandage and a smile.
He looked back down at the cartoon on his wrist and tried—tried—not to grin.
He failed.
Later That Night – During a Mission
The rooftop wind was sharp and cold, cutting through Lloyd’s hoodie as he crouched behind a vent next to Kai. Below them, the warehouse was dimly lit and crawling with suspicious activity—classic Ninjago underworld stuff.
Kai gave him a look. “You good?”
“Yeah,” Lloyd replied, eyes forward.
Totally good. Totally focused. Totally not thinking about a frog bandage currently hidden beneath his glove.
He adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword and reminded himself to concentrate. There was a mission happening. Real enemies. Real danger. He was the Green Ninja. Leader. Strategist.
Definitely not the kind of person who should be blushing under a mask because of a stupid, smiling frog stuck to his wrist.
But still…
Under the glove, he could feel it.
Tiny. Silly. Important.
He had made absolutely sure none of the others saw it when he changed into his gi earlier. When Zane had asked if his wrist was okay, Lloyd had mumbled something vague and quickly pulled on his gloves. No one pressed. Good. They didn’t need to know.
This bandage wasn’t for them.
It wasn’t just about the wrist anymore.
It was about the way Aria had slapped it on like it was nothing—like he was nothing out of the ordinary. Just a guy with a bruise and a bad day.
Just a guy someone might care about.
She hadn’t said anything deep. She hadn’t made it weird. But that made it worse. Or better. Or something.
And now here he was, crouched in full ninja gear, barely hearing Kai’s briefing about smoke bombs and extraction points, because all he could think was:
“Frog bandages are scientifically proven to be the most powerful kind of healing. Source: me.”
He pressed his gloved palm to the spot gently. Just for a second. Just to make sure it was still there.
It was.
A tiny, invisible armor.
His armor.
“Lloyd,” Nya said over comms, “you’re awfully quiet. Everything okay?”
He blinked. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”
“You better be thinking about how we’re getting out of here in ten minutes,” Jay muttered.
“I am,” Lloyd lied smoothly.
But his mind wasn’t on escape plans.
It was on the bandage under his glove. The one no one could see.
And the girl who gave it to him, like it was no big deal.
Saturday Morning – Frog Bandage Crisis
(in one of the spare rooms in the city, just in case)
Lloyd sat cross-legged on his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at his wrist like it had betrayed him.
The frog bandage was still there.
Barely clinging on after a long night of ninja parkour and rooftop rollouts, its edges were starting to peel. One of the frogs was missing an eye now, and the once-proud green color had dulled slightly under his glove. But still, it held on.
Just like he had.
He knew he should take it off. It was just a sticker, after all. A novelty bandage. Nothing special. It had done its job. The nurse’s wrap was what actually mattered. The frogs were just… decoration.
Except they weren’t.
They were hers.
Her fingers had peeled the paper. Her thumb had pressed it into place. She’d looked at him like it was no big deal—like anyone could do that. But no one ever had. Not for him.
He reached out slowly and pinched the edge of the bandage between his fingers.
It didn’t budge.
Well, physically it did, but emotionally? Emotionally, it felt like trying to peel off a memory.
His hand dropped.
God. What was wrong with him?
He flopped back onto the bed with a groan, burying his face into the pillow.
This was insane. He was a trained ninja. He fought evil serpents and robotic overlords, and giant laser sharks on the regular. He wasn’t supposed to be this... soft over a girl and a frog sticker.
But here he was.
Sighing into his sheets like a character in some tragic romance drama, wrist clutched to his chest like it meant something. Because it did. It meant someone had seen him. Helped him. Cared.
And now that feeling was stuck to him in the shape of a dumb cartoon bandage.
“Hopeless,” he muttered to himself.
There was a knock on his bedroom window.
He bolted upright so fast the pillow launched across the room.
Standing on the balcony outside—with one hand in her coat pocket and a smug expression on her face—was Aria.
She held up a paper bag and tapped the glass. “I brought muffins.”
Lloyd scrambled to open the window, heart doing acrobatics. “H-How did you even get up here—?”
“Your tree,” she said simply. “Very climbable.”
“You climbed my tree.”
“You wear green spandex and sneak out of school windows. And I’m the weird one?”
He opened his mouth to argue. Closed it. Stepped aside to let her in.
Aria glanced around his room, then flopped down on his desk chair like she owned the place. “So… you still wearing it?”
He froze.
“What?”
She smirked. “The frog. On your wrist.”
“I—I-uh—it—” Lloyd stammered. “I was gonna take it off.”
“Sure,” she said, sipping from a thermos she’d pulled from the bag. “But you didn’t.”
He slowly, reluctantly held out his arm. The frog bandage was clinging for dear life.
Aria grinned.
Lloyd turned red enough to match Kai’s gi.
“You are so annoying,” he muttered.
“And you are adorable when you spiral,” she replied. “Don’t worry. I brought a backup.”
She dug into the bag and pulled out a second bandage—this one with tiny strawberries.
Lloyd stared at it like it was radioactive.
“Just in case Frog Guy needs a friend,” she said sweetly.
He didn't know if he wanted to scream or smile forever.
Maybe both.
Aria gave the strawberry bandage one last dramatic pat on his wrist.
“There,” she declared. “You are now medically protected by both amphibians and fruit. You’re welcome.”
Lloyd just stared at it.
Two cartoon bandages. One wrist. His dignity hanging by a thread.
He was doomed. And for some reason... he didn’t mind.
They ended up walking together to the front gate, trading quiet jokes and pretending they weren’t walking a little slower than necessary. Lloyd didn’t want the moment to end. Not yet.
He didn’t even notice the figure perched in the tree just a few feet away—half-hidden by leaves, silently watching.
Kai narrowed his eyes.
From his angle, he could see Lloyd’s wrist. The edge of the hoodie had slipped just enough.
Pink.
A strawberry.
Kai’s eyebrow twitched. His lips curled into a dangerous smile.
“Is that... a bandage?” he whispered to himself.
“Oh,” he said, voice full of glee.
“Oh, I’m gonna have fun with this.”
Lloyd had no idea his life was about to end.
Notes:
Sorry for the VERY late chapter,I traveled on vacation to visit some of my family members, so I didn't have much time to write.
As promised, here's a longer chapter
Chapter 6: Ch5 – "Pixal’s Advice"
Summary:
Zane and Pixal observe Aria and Lloyd’s weird tension. Pixal lowkey ships it.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was just a regular Sunday morning at the Monastery.
Birds were chirping. The teapot was whistling. Cole was already halfway through his second breakfast. And Lloyd was desperately trying not to die of anxiety.
He kept his hoodie sleeves tugged tight over his wrists. Sat stiffly at the breakfast table like a soldier in enemy territory. Said nothing. Looked at no one.
He could feel Kai watching him.
Any second now.
Any—
“So,” Kai said, biting into a dumpling, “how’s your wrist?”
Lloyd didn’t blink. “Fine.”
“Totally recovered?”
“Yeah.”
“Hm. Must’ve healed real fast, huh?”
Lloyd stared at the wall. It was a nice wall. Peaceful. Made of ancient stone. Maybe if he stared hard enough, it would swallow him whole.
Across the table, Jay glanced between them, confused. “Wait, what happened to his wrist?”
“Oh,” Kai said, stretching with exaggerated casualness, “he sprained it. Didn’t you know?”
Lloyd’s entire soul left his body.
“You sprained your wrist?” Nya repeated, raising an eyebrow. “When?”
Lloyd tried to speak. Failed.
Kai leaned forward, resting his chin in one hand, looking way too pleased with himself.
“And what’s super interesting,” he said, eyes locked on Lloyd’s sleeve, “is that I might’ve seen a very… specific kind of bandage on it.”
Zane blinked. “What kind of bandage?”
“Oh, you know. Just your average cartoon strawberry bandage.”
Jay nearly choked on his juice. “Wait. What?!”
Cole perked up. “Strawberries?”
Lloyd sank lower in his chair, hoodie sleeves clenched around his wrists like they might keep his dignity from leaking out.
“I was injured,” he mumbled. “It’s a medical thing. Not a big deal.”
Kai grinned. “Sure, sure. That’s why you were walking around with a cartoon fruit slapped on your arm like it was a love confession.”
“It wasn’t a—!”
Pixal, who had been silently sipping tea by the window, finally spoke.
“If I may,” she said, “statistically speaking, recipients of novelty bandages applied by another person experience a 72% increase in oxytocin release.”
The room fell silent.
“…What?” Jay said.
“It’s a bonding hormone,” Pixal continued calmly. “Associated with emotional intimacy. Also known as the ‘trust chemical.’ It often spikes during acts of care—such as receiving food, physical touch, or… bandages.”
She turned to Lloyd.
“You’re blushing.”
Lloyd covered his face with his sleeve. “I am not.”
“You’re definitely blushing,” Nya said.
“Oh, he’s done for,” Cole added.
Kai raised his cup in a toast. “To Lloyd and his mystery girl!”
“I don’t —!” Lloyd tried to object, but Pixal gently placed her hand on his shoulder.
“If you are experiencing unfamiliar feelings,” she said softly, “it is not a system error. It is development. That is what we call growth.”
Lloyd opened his mouth. Closed it. Made a small sound like a kettle under pressure.
Pixal smiled faintly. “I find it admirable.”
Kai leaned over and stage-whispered, “So when are you bringing her over? You already let her bandage you , man. That’s practically marriage.”
“LEAVE.”
He stood up so fast his chair screeched against the floor.
Pixal took a thoughtful sip of her tea. “He did not deny it.”
Zane looked at her with the softest curiosity. “Are you… encouraging this?”
“I simply observe data,” Pixal replied, tilting her head. “And the data is adorable.”
Aria’s POV
It was a lazy Sunday morning. The kind where the sky stayed gray just long enough to justify doing nothing, and the city outside her window hummed softly with traffic, wind, and life.
Aria sat cross-legged on her bed with her guitar in her lap and exactly zero inspiration in her head.
Her notebook was open beside her. So far, it contained:
- one lyric that didn’t rhyme
- a very questionable attempt at a metaphor involving tree frogs
- and six tiny doodles of cartoon strawberries.
She let out a groan and flopped backward, guitar strings buzzing beneath her.
“Ugh.”
Across the room, her little brother stuck his head in the door. “Is this another song about that green hoodie boy?”
Aria chucked a pillow at him. “Get out.”
He retreated with a cackle. “You’re obsessed!”
“ I will end you. ”
Door slam. Silence.
She sat back up with a dramatic sigh and stared at the page.
I still can’t believe I slapped a strawberry bandage on him like it was no big deal.
Like I was giving out friendship bracelets in elementary school.
She hadn’t even thought about it in the moment. He’d looked so flustered and grumpy and awkward —and there was just something about the way he’d cradled his wrist like he wasn’t used to being taken care of.
So she’d made it casual. Quick. Easy to ignore.
But now?
Now it haunted her.
Every time she thought about it, her brain staged a full cinematic rewatch—complete with slow motion, echo effects, and the worst possible commentary.
“Nice job, Kurohane. Want to tattoo your name on his forehead while you’re at it?”
“Maybe next time bring a wedding ring too.”
“Frog Guy has a friend now. Congrats. You’ve lost your mind.”
A soft knock on her window pulled her out of the spiral.
She blinked.
Not the door. The window .
She got up, yanked back the curtain—and sighed.
“Mina. Seriously?”
Her best friend sat crouched on the fire escape with a smug smile and a bag of matcha cookies. “Emergency vibe check. Let me in.”
Five minutes later, Mina was curled on Aria’s bed like a smug little gremlin, flipping through her notebook.
“You drew six strawberries,” she noted. “Is that how many times you replayed the bandage moment or just your emotional damage rating?”
Aria buried her face in a pillow. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” Mina flipped another page. “So. Are you in love yet or just developing early symptoms?”
“Shut up .”
“Come on, Aria. You climbed into his bedroom window with muffins. That’s basically a fairytale proposal.”
“I just—! I don’t know!” Aria sat up and flailed her arms. “It felt normal. Like, not scary or dramatic. I didn’t have to try with him. It just… happened. And then I bandaged him like a kindergarten teacher and walked away like I was fine. ”
“You weren’t?”
“I mean—I was. But also not?” She gestured vaguely toward her notebook. “He looked at me like I was doing something huge, but it was just a bandage, Mina. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.”
Mina raised an eyebrow. “And yet…”
“And yet I’m sitting here spiraling about whether he still has it on.”
“You want him to still have it on.”
Aria bit her lip. “Maybe.”
Mina smiled. Not mean. Not teasing. Just… knowing.
“You like him.”
Aria didn’t say anything.
She didn’t have to.
They sat in quiet for a minute, the city humming outside the window.
Then Mina added, “He’d be stupid not to like you back.”
Aria scoffed. “He’s not stupid.”
“No. He’s not,” Mina said. “And he looked at you like you handed him the moon. I saw it. At lunch last week.”
Aria’s face went warm.
“ Shut. Up. ”
“I’m just saying,” Mina said, standing to stretch. “If he ghosts you, I will personally give him a concussion.”
“That’s romantic.”
“I’m very loyal.”
As Mina climbed back out the window, Aria looked down at her notebook one more time.
She picked up her pen.
No more frogs. No more strawberries.
Just a line:
I didn’t mean to make it matter. But now it does.
She stared at it for a moment. Then smiled.
Maybe she did want to see him again soon.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Aria had always liked the market on Sundays. It was messy in the best way — full of crooked signs, too-loud vendors, and side streets that always smelled like ginger and engine oil. The world didn’t feel curated here. It just existed.
And today, for once, she wasn’t in a rush.
She drifted between stalls with a rhythm in her head, not quite a song, but the bones of one. Her fingers danced idly against her bag strap, like strumming chords only she could hear. The scent of grilled mochi wafted from the food alley, and she made a mental note to grab a stick later. Maybe two.
That was when the crowd shifted. Just slightly.
Enough that she noticed.
People didn’t always say things out loud when Lloyd walked by. But they didn’t have to. Sometimes silence was just another kind of noise — the kind that pressed in from all sides.
She turned her head and saw him.
Two stalls over. Hood up. Drink in hand. Looking like he’d rather be invisible.
Except he wasn’t. He saw her. And didn’t run.
So she didn’t either.
They met somewhere between a fruit stand and a table selling discount keychains. She slid into step beside him like it was nothing. Like they hadn’t spent the past week dancing around moments and bandages and looks that lingered too long.
“You stalking me?” she said lightly.
He glanced sideways. "This was my spot first."
“Ohhh, we’re claiming territory now?”
“I have a receipt to prove it.”
“You also have a strawberry on your wrist.”
He choked. "You saw —?"
"Kidding," she said. Sipped her drink like she hadn’t just murdered him with a sentence. "Relax, Hero. I’m not outing you to the street vendors."
He flushed. That same pinkish red that always crept into his ears when she got too close.
They didn’t talk for a moment. Just stood shoulder to shoulder, letting the market hum around them.
Aria could feel the stares brushing off him like static. She hated it. Hated how good he was at pretending it didn’t sting.
“You get used to it?” she asked, softer now.
“No,” he said. “You just get better at pretending it doesn’t bother you.”
She nudged his drink with hers. "You’re not pretending alone today."
His eyes met hers. There was something raw in them. Something real.
Then he smiled. Barely. But it was there.
“Wanna help me pick a vinyl?” she asked. “You seem like someone who secretly listens to sad piano music.”
“Only on Tuesdays.”
She laughed. “What do you listen to the rest of the week?”
“Whatever you’d recommend.”
The vinyl stand was manned by an old man with thick glasses and a sleeve tattoo of koi fish. He barely looked up as they flipped through crates, muttering something about a missing Otis Redding record.
Aria thumbed through the stack. “Any musical allergies I should know about?”
“No country. No smooth jazz. No songs that sound like they belong in toothpaste commercials.”
“Got it. You’re allergic to joy.”
“I’m selective.”
She pulled out a scratched-up record with a hand-drawn cover and held it up. “Local band. Underground. Probably recorded in someone’s basement.”
He blinked. “Sounds terrible.”
“Exactly.”
She handed it to him like a dare. He tucked it under one arm without a word.
They wandered again after that. Bought mochi from a lady with six cats sleeping under her cart. Aria made him try the sesame kind. He made a face. She laughed.
It was nothing. And also everything.
Because she wasn’t trying. And neither was he.
They just were.
She caught him glancing at her once — right when she wiped sugar from the corner of her mouth.
He looked away fast. Too fast.
It did something strange to her chest.
She didn’t poke at it.
Not yet.
“Hey,” he said, as they reached the edge of the market. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For just… this.”
She looked at him. Really looked.
And then, casually — like it meant nothing — she said, “Don’t mention it, Greenie.”
But the warmth in her throat said otherwise.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The record booth smelled like old wood and nostalgia.
Stacks of worn vinyl lined the crooked shelves, handwritten tags sticking out like flags— “Soul + Jazz,” “Lo-fi Beats,” “Lame but Good,” “Epic Guitar Solos.” Somewhere in the back, a speaker crackled out an old Ninjagoan jazz cover of “Eye of the Tiger.” It shouldn’t have worked. It kind of did.
Aria flipped through the crates with practiced ease, fingers grazing the sleeves like she was reading stories in the cardboard. Lloyd lingered beside her, hands tucked in his pockets, gaze darting between album covers like they were artifacts he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch.
“You ever held a vinyl before?” she asked.
He gave a half-smile. “Do I look that sheltered?”
“You look like you were raised by monks in a cave.”
“…I mean, close.”
She blinked. “Wait. Seriously?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Not a cave. Just… a monastery.”
“Oh my god , you’re not joking.”
He laughed—quiet, breathy, and a little embarrassed.
Aria smirked. “Okay, that explains so much. ”
“Like what?”
“Like why you flinch every time I hand you a pastry.”
“That's self-preservation. You’re terrifying with muffins.”
“You
liked
the muffins!”
“I never said I didn’t!”
They both laughed this time—light and unguarded—and for a second, it felt like the rest of the world melted away. No stares. No whispers. No legacy or secrets or bandages or questions.
Just two teens flipping through old music like they had nowhere better to be.
Aria pulled out a faded yellow record with a hand-drawn dragon on the cover and turned it toward him. “You’d like this one.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re the type who’d secretly cry over guitar solos.”
He raised a brow. “And you’re not?”
“I cry over lyrics. Big difference.”
“Fair enough.”
She tucked the record under her arm and kept flipping.
He didn’t say much after that—but he didn’t leave either.
She could feel him beside her the whole time. Quiet presence. Subtle warmth.
The way he listened when she pointed out an album. The way he hovered like he wanted to ask something but didn’t know how.
Eventually, she moved to the side and gave him space to browse on his own. But she watched out of the corner of her eye as he pulled a record halfway out of a crate… then paused.
The cover was simple. Deep green. A single silver tree in the center, bare branches reaching like quiet hands.
Aria peeked over.
“Oh. That one’s kinda sad.”
He didn’t put it back.
“I like the art,” he said.
She nodded. “It’s good. Real introspective. Kind of a ‘sit alone in your room and stare at the ceiling’ vibe.”
“…Sounds familiar.”
She glanced at him. “You okay?”
He hesitated. Then shrugged.
“I just… don’t usually get to walk around like this. Not without people staring. Or crossing the street. Or whispering.”
Her hands curled loosely around the record in her arms.
“But you came anyway,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“And you talked to me.”
“Yeah.”
She looked at him again, longer this time.
Not like he was “Garmadon’s son.” Not like he was someone half the city avoided.
Just like a boy with too many thoughts and nowhere to put them.
“I’m glad you did,” she said.
He blinked. “You are?”
“Yeah.”
And then, before either of them could spiral too hard—
“C’mon,” she said, nudging him with her elbow. “Let’s go pay before I start getting sentimental and make you cry in public.”
“I’m not gonna cry,” he muttered.
“You so would. Monastery boy.”
He smiled. But his hand brushed hers, just barely, when they stepped into line.
And he didn’t pull away.
They left the booth side by side, paper sleeves tucked under their arms, the city sun warm on their backs. People still looked. The whispers still trailed behind them.
But neither of them flinched.
Not this time.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lloyd returned to the monastery just before sundown.
The sky was streaked with lazy purples and warm oranges, and the gravel path up the hill crunched under his shoes as he made his way up. His hoodie was pulled back up over his head. Not to hide this time. Just to keep the wind off.
He clutched the paper sleeve of the vinyl to his chest like it might blow away if he let go.
The gate was open when he arrived.
So were the questions.
“There you are,” Kai said the moment Lloyd stepped inside, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched with a dramatic sense of betrayal. “You’ve been gone all day. ”
Lloyd didn’t look up. “I went out.”
Jay gasped. “Alone?! What if a villain attacked? What if some creepy fan recognized you? What if you got hit by a noodle cart and had to crawl home?”
“Then I guess I’d be crawling.”
Zane stepped forward calmly, hands behind his back. “We were concerned, Lloyd. You didn’t answer any messages.”
Lloyd avoided their eyes, already walking past them. “I left my comm at the dojo.”
“ You ? Forgetting your communicator?” Nya said from where she leaned against the wall, brow furrowed. “That’s new.”
“Did something happen?” Pixal asked gently.
Lloyd didn’t answer. He just kept walking. Up the steps. Past the training hall. Into the quiet.
He didn’t stop until he reached his room. He shut the door behind him and finally let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
Then he sat down, placed the vinyl on his desk… and stared at it.
It shouldn’t mean anything.
It was just a record.
Just a gift he technically paid for himself.
Just a thing from a market on a sunny afternoon.
But his wrist still had a faint mark where her bandage had been. And his chest still felt a little lighter.
He traced the edge of the sleeve with one finger. Then pulled open the drawer of his desk, shoved aside a few old scrolls, and carefully tucked the record inside like it was something rare.
He shut the drawer. Stared at it for a moment.
Then smiled. Just a little.
And for once, the silence didn’t feel so heavy.
Lloyd leaned back in his chair, letting the hum of the monastery settle around him. He hadn’t even realized the sun had dipped low until the shadows stretched across his floorboards. Dinner would be soon. The others would be loud again.
For now, though, it was just him… and the faint, lingering memory of Aria’s laugh.
A knock came at his door.
Not sharp — just two soft taps.
“Yeah?”
The door creaked open a few inches. Nya leaned in, one eyebrow raised, arms crossed like she’d been standing there for a while. “You gonna come eat, or are you hiding from your very loving family?”
“I’m not hiding.”
She stepped inside anyway, letting the door swing shut behind her. “Funny, you always say that right before I find you hiding.”
Lloyd sighed and swiveled his chair halfway toward her. “Is this about earlier? Because I’m not—”
“—telling us where you went?” she finished, tilting her head. “Yeah. Kinda.”
There was no teasing in her tone now. Just that low, steady note she used when she wanted the truth.
He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Could be,” she said. “You came back later than usual, looking… I don’t know. Different.”
“Different how?”
Nya studied him for a moment, like she was trying to read the gaps between his words. “Like your head’s somewhere else. And I don’t mean homework.”
Lloyd looked away, fingers curling slightly on the armrest. “It was just… a walk. Around the city.”
“Alone?”
“...Yes.”
Her brows lifted. “Uh-huh.”
“It’s not—” he started, but she cut him off with a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Hey. I’m not here to grill you. I just want to know if you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
He hesitated. “Yeah. Really.”
She let out a slow breath, still watching him like she didn’t entirely buy it. “Alright. But just… remember you don’t have to keep stuff locked up. You can tell me things. Even if you think the others will tease.”
A small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Thanks, Nya.”
She smiled back, but her eyes were still a little searching. “C’mon. Dinner’s getting cold. And if Cole eats your share, I’m not saving you.”
He followed her out, the warmth of her words lingering in his chest — right next to that faint, almost ridiculous memory of a bandage and a market stall.
The smell of something vaguely edible drifted down the hallway, and Lloyd’s stomach reminded him just how long it had been since lunch.
They stepped into the dining area to find the rest of the team already gathered around the low table. Cole was halfway through what looked like his third helping, Jay was complaining about “mysterious green-haired people who disappear after school,” and Kai was trying to spear a dumpling from across the table with his chopsticks.
“Well, look who finally decided to join the living,” Kai said the second Lloyd crossed the threshold. “Thought we were gonna have to send a search party.”
“Would’ve been a short search,” Jay added with a grin. “We’d just follow the trail of mysterious vibes .”
Lloyd slid into a seat without answering, focusing a little too hard on ladling soup into his bowl.
“You’re quiet,” Cole observed, mid-chew. “Quieter than usual. Which is saying something.”
“I’m eating,” Lloyd said, as if that explained everything.
Zane glanced up from his plate, calm as always. “You also appear distracted.”
Lloyd didn’t look at him. “Not distracted. Just tired.”
Kai leaned forward on his elbows. “Tired from what, exactly? ‘Cause I saw you leave school faster than Jay chasing free pizza.”
Jay nodded solemnly. “It was impressive. Kinda suspicious, but impressive.”
“It’s nothing,” Lloyd said, keeping his tone even.
Cole smirked. “Every time someone says ‘it’s nothing,’ it’s always something.”
Lloyd stirred his soup, ignoring the way heat prickled at the back of his neck. He wasn’t about to tell them about the market, or Aria, or the stupid little bandage that he’d shoved into his desk drawer like it was some priceless artifact.
Not yet.
Kai finally shrugged, leaning back. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But if it’s a girlfriend, I’m totally calling dibs on being the one to tell Sensei.”
Jay nearly choked on his dumpling. “ Girlfriend?! ”
“She’s not—” Lloyd began, but immediately shut his mouth. Saying anything would just make it worse.
The table erupted into overlapping theories and ridiculous guesses, but Lloyd kept his head down, spooning soup into his mouth and letting the noise wash over him.
He didn’t notice Nya watching from across the table — not with suspicion exactly, but with that same searching look from earlier. Like she could tell there was more to the story.
And maybe she was right.
Dinner eventually wound down into the usual post-meal chaos — Jay and Kai bickering over who had to do dishes, Cole disappearing with a plate still in his hand, Zane methodically cleaning up like none of them existed.
Lloyd slipped away as soon as no one was looking.
The hallways of the monastery were dim and hushed at night, the kind of silence that almost felt heavy. He pushed open his door, shut it softly behind him, and stood there for a moment, letting the muffled sounds of his teammates fade away.
His desk drawer was still shut. Still holding that record.
He didn’t open it. He didn’t need to.
Instead, he sat on the edge of his bed and absently flexed his wrist — the faint mark from Aria’s bandage was gone now, but the memory hadn’t faded with it. He could still feel the warmth of her hand when she wrapped it around his arm, the way her voice had been so casual like helping him wasn’t strange at all.
Like she didn’t care about the stares.
Lloyd lay back, folding one arm under his head, eyes tracing the wooden beams above. The market smelled faintly of roasted chestnuts in his memory, colors bright even under the setting sun.
She’d smiled at him. Not a careful smile. Not a fake one. Just… a smile.
He told himself he was just replaying the scene because it was unusual. Because it had been a long time since anyone had looked at him like that — not like a name, or a mistake, or an extension of his father.
But he knew he was lying.
Lloyd rolled onto his side, facing the wall. The monastery creaked softly around him. Somewhere down the hall, someone laughed.
And in the quiet, his mind wandered right back to that afternoon — to the sound of her voice over the hum of the crowd, the warmth of sunlight on his face, and the ridiculous way his chest felt a little lighter just remembering it.
He exhaled slowly. Closed his eyes.
Tomorrow would come fast enough. And maybe, if he was lucky, it wouldn’t be the last time he saw her.
The sun barely cleared the mountains before the clang of wooden staffs and the thud of feet on the training floor filled the monastery courtyard.
Lloyd gripped his own staff a little tighter than usual, forcing himself to match Kai’s pace. The rhythm of the drills should have grounded him — parry, block, sweep, step — but his mind kept snagging on fragments that had nothing to do with combat.
The faint rustle of a paper sleeve sliding into a desk drawer.
The sound of laughter tangled with street music.
The ghost of a warm hand brushing his wrist.
“Eyes up, Greenie!” Kai’s voice snapped him back a moment too late. The staff connected with his side, knocking him back a step.
“You’re distracted,” Zane observed, his tone as neutral as ever.
“I’m fine,” Lloyd said automatically, repositioning his grip. “Just… tired.”
Cole smirked from the sidelines. “Weird, that’s the same excuse you gave last night.”
“Maybe it’s true,” Lloyd muttered, lunging forward to reset the drill.
What he didn’t notice was the trio standing quietly at the far edge of the courtyard, just beyond the training posts.
Master Wu’s staff was planted in the ground beside him, his gaze sharp but unreadable. Garmadon stood with arms folded, expression caught somewhere between curiosity and suspicion. Misako, next to them, wore that faint, worried frown she always seemed to reserve for her son.
“He’s not focused,” Wu said quietly, as Kai launched another strike that Lloyd barely deflected.
“Something’s on his mind,” Misako agreed. “And it’s not schoolwork.”
Garmadon’s brow furrowed. “If someone’s bothering him—”
“It may not be an enemy,” Wu cut in. “Not all distractions are threats.”
Misako glanced at him. “Then what is it?”
Wu’s mouth curved, just slightly. “If it is what I suspect, he will not tell us until he is ready.”
On the training floor, Kai finally landed another clean hit, forcing Lloyd back. “C’mon, what’s with you today?”
“Nothing,” Lloyd said again, too quickly.
Garmadon’s gaze lingered on his son, but he said nothing. Not yet.
By the time training wrapped up, Lloyd’s shoulders ached, his palms were sore, and his head was still nowhere near the courtyard. He slipped away before anyone could start another round of questions, heading for his room with the vague excuse of “needing water.”
Three sets of eyes followed him as he disappeared into the monastery halls.
In another room, Master Wu moved with his usual, deliberate calm, lifting the small kettle and letting the steam curl upward before it spilled in smooth streams into three waiting cups. First his own, then his brother’s, and finally Misako’s.
Both of them gave slight nods of acknowledgment. Wu set the kettle aside, folding himself neatly into his seat.
“I heard from the ninja,” he began, his voice quiet but carrying easily in the stillness of the room, “that Lloyd has been… enjoying himself at school.” He blew gently across the surface of his tea, watching the ripples fade.
Misako’s lips curved into a soft smile. One hand came to rest against her cheek. “I’m just happy he’s finally making friends. It’s always been hard for him.”
Across the table, Garmadon’s expression was less indulgent. His arms folded tightly over his chest, the lines around his mouth deepening. “Still… we can’t ignore the larger matter at stake here—”
Wu interrupted with a small nod, raising his cup and taking a measured sip. “Yes. The prophecy our father left us. We are no closer to understanding its meaning now than when we began.”
Misako’s smile faded into thoughtfulness. “I’ve searched every historical text, every ancient archive I could access. I even went to the Cloud Kingdom itself, but… they were just as uncertain.”
Garmadon let out a low breath through his nose, a sound halfway between impatience and grim acceptance. “Even so, we know this much — we have to find the girl. She’s the key. The hope for all of Ninjago.”
Wu’s brow furrowed, the faintest crease marring his otherwise steady expression. “Yes… and dark forces are already moving.”
The three of them fell into a heavy silence, the faint hiss of steam from the kettle the only sound between them. Somewhere deep in the monastery, the muffled thud of practice weapons echoed faintly — a reminder that time was still moving, even as the weight of the prophecy pressed heavier on their shoulders.
Misako was the first to break the silence. “If she truly is the key, then she could already be in danger. Every moment we waste gives the enemy more time to find her first.”
“And yet,” Wu said, setting his cup down with deliberate care, “searching without knowing who or what we seek could cause more harm than good. A blade swung blindly can wound the wrong person.”
Garmadon’s gaze sharpened. “You think she’s still hidden? That she’s unaware of her role?”
“Perhaps,” Wu replied. “Or perhaps she already walks among us, living an ordinary life, unaware that her choices will one day decide the fate of this realm.”
Misako leaned forward slightly, her voice soft but urgent. “If that’s true, then she might already have crossed paths with someone who could guide her… or destroy her.”
The words lingered in the air, heavy with implication.
Outside the quiet tea room, somewhere across the monastery’s halls, Lloyd sat on his bed, his fingers absently brushing the edge of his desk drawer — the one where the market record lay tucked away. He wasn’t thinking about prophecies or fate. Only about the sunlight in Aria’s hair and the sound of her laugh over the crowd.
Back in the tea room, Garmadon’s eyes narrowed. “If she’s out there, we must find her before the enemy does.”
“And we will,” Wu said, though his tone carried the weight of uncertainty. “But we must also trust that the threads of destiny are already weaving her into our path.”
Notes:
Yayyy! An update that’s actually on time! 🎉
Anyway—new chapters dropping every Friday like usual!
Chapter 7: Chapter 6- Detention Diaries
Summary:
Aria and Lloyd get detention together. She draws, he stares at the desk. They talk. Lloyd laughs. *For the first time in months. MAIN IDEA
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The clock on the wall was loud.
Not just ticking — taunting.
Aria dragged her feet across the empty classroom floor, the rubber soles of her sneakers squeaking against the tiles as if to announce, Yes, I’m late. Again. The teacher at the desk didn’t even look up. Mr. Henshaw was the kind of man who had given up caring about the future of the world somewhere around 1997. He just grunted, scribbled her name on the list, and pointed at a desk.
She slid into the seat, exhaling slowly, her backpack landing on the chair beside her with a soft thud.
And that’s when she saw him.
Green jacket. Hood down. Hair a little messy, like he’d been running earlier. Elbows on the desk, head propped up by one hand, staring at a scratch in the wood like it held the meaning of life.
Lloyd Garmadon.
Well. This was going to be interesting.
Aria didn’t know him — not really. Everyone at school knew him, in the way you know the shape of the moon: always there, kind of untouchable, kind of cursed. Son of the city’s greatest headache. The kid everyone whispered about when he walked past, then avoided making eye contact with.
And now here he was, in detention, with her.
She fished a pencil from her bag and flipped open her sketchbook, the blank page yawning back at her. Might as well make the best of the hour. Drawing killed time better than staring at a wall.
The pencil glided across the paper, forming the curve of a shoulder, the suggestion of a jacket, a few loose lines that accidentally — completely on purpose — started to look like the boy three desks over.
Lloyd didn’t move much. Just sat there, tapping his fingers once against the desk, then stillness again. His eyes — green, but not the loud kind, more like bottle glass in shadow — stayed locked somewhere in the middle distance.
Ten minutes crawled by.
The clock ticked louder.
Aria chewed on the back of her pencil, squinting at the half-formed sketch. Too serious, she thought. The lines made him look like a soldier waiting for orders, not a kid trapped in detention.
She glanced up again — and caught him looking at her.
Not long. Just a flicker, then back to the desk.
She smirked. “So, Green Jacket… what’d you do?”
His head turned slightly. “…What?”
She tilted the pencil like a pointer. “Detention. What crime got you here? Loitering? Secret graffiti empire?”
“…Late.” His voice was low, even. “Missed roll call.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Rebel.”
He didn’t smile. Not really. But something about his mouth twitched, like it was deciding whether or not it remembered how.
Silence settled again, but it wasn’t the heavy kind anymore. Not the everyone-is-pretending-the-other-doesn’t-exist kind. More like the quiet of a room waiting to be filled.
Aria let her pencil wander again — hair messy, eyes down, the faint shadow under them. She wasn’t great at portraits, but she liked the challenge.
After a while, she asked, “Are you always this talkative?”
That got her a slow blink. “…I guess.”
“Guess what?”
“Guess… not.”
She snorted under her breath. “Wow. Riddles now.”
Something shifted in his shoulders — not quite a laugh, but the air felt less like stone for a second.
Half the clock is gone.
Mr. Henshaw was grading something at the front, completely oblivious.
Aria tapped her pencil against the page, debating, then turned it around to show him. “This is you, by the way. Don’t sue me for slander.”
He looked at the sketch.
And there it was — the thing she didn’t know she was waiting for.
A laugh.
Not a big one. Not loud. Just this short, startled sound that escaped before he could smother it. His head dipped, shoulders hunching like he wanted to hide it, but it was there.
And for some reason, it made her grin.
“…That bad?” she asked.
“No. Just—” He shook his head, still half-smiling in disbelief. “Didn’t think anyone’d… bother.”
“Drawing you?”
“Noticing.”
That shut her up for a second. Because under all the sarcasm, there was something in his voice — quiet, worn thin, like a kid carrying too many late nights.
The last twenty minutes slipped by more softly than the first forty.
They didn’t talk much — not really. Just little things. Her favorite pen brand. His pencil tapped out an uneven rhythm that almost matched the clock.
When the bell finally rang, Mr. Henshaw waved them out without looking up.
Aria stuffed her sketchbook into her bag, slinging it over her shoulder as the detention door clicked shut behind her.
The hallway felt wider now, almost hollow, with the end-of-day light bleeding through the high windows. Somewhere far off, a janitor’s cart squeaked. The school was emptying, but not empty yet.
Lloyd walked a few paces ahead, hands in his pockets, hood half up like it might shield him from the world. Not exactly with her — but close enough that she could hear the soft scuff of his sneakers.
“Try not to end up here again,” she said, letting her voice carry just enough to bounce off the lockers.
His shoulders shifted. “You too.”
That was it. For a few seconds, anyway.
The vending machine kids were still there, whispering over candy bars. Two others leaned on their lockers and stopped talking when he passed. Aria felt their eyes on him, then on her. She lifted her chin, a subtle glare — the kind that said, What? — and kept walking.
“You’re kind of famous, you know,” she said before she could stop herself. Her tone was lighter than her words.
Lloyd didn’t look back. “Yeah. My favorite kind.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Is that sarcasm?”
“Maybe.”
It wasn’t the answer she expected — or the voice, really. It wasn’t sharp, just… flat. Like someone who’d run out of the energy to care.
They stepped out through the front doors. Late afternoon wrapped the courtyard in orange and lavender, the sky heavy with the promise of evening. The air smelled faintly of rain on warm concrete.
Aria kicked at a stray pebble. “So… detention pro-tip: if you draw on the desks again, make sure the teacher doesn’t see. I’m not planning on being your partner-in-crime every week.”
That earned her a small huff. Almost a laugh. “Noted.”
She glanced at him, catching the curve of his mouth before it vanished.
Weird, she thought. He didn’t feel like the rumors — the dangerous, arrogant, impossible boy they made him out to be. Just… quiet. Like a song too soft for the speakers.
By the gate, he stooped to grab his bag properly. The movement pulled at his sleeve, and she caught the faint mark where her bandage had been earlier.
“Hey,” she said, a little too quickly.
He looked up.
“You sure that’s okay? The wrist.”
Lloyd flexed his fingers. “It’s fine. Barely notice it now.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
That startled something out of him — a pause, then a small shake of his head. “It’s okay. Really.”
She wanted to push, but something in his face — the way his eyes skirted past hers — made her let it go.
“Alright,” she said, softer this time.
A breeze rustled the gate. The city beyond was starting to glow with evening lights. They stood there a second longer than necessary.
“Thanks,” he said finally.
She blinked. “For what?”
“The company.”
Her lips parted, but no clever reply came. Aria Kurohane, who always had something to say, suddenly didn’t.
So she just nodded. “See you tomorrow, Garmadon.”
That earned her a real one — not a full smile, but the ghost of one. “See you.”
He headed left. She turned right.
And for a few steps, she found herself listening to the quiet behind her, wondering why it suddenly felt less heavy.
Aria’s sneakers clicked softly on the cracked sidewalk, the last of the school’s chatter fading behind her. The sky had gone deep orange now, streaked with mauve clouds like brushstrokes. A light breeze tugged at her hair.
Lloyd’s footsteps were long gone — she’d half-expected him to vanish the moment they parted, like he always did. Quiet boy. Ghost boy. Whatever the rumors said, he didn’t fit them. Not quite.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, a message from Taro:
Kuro-chan. Rumor says you walked out with Garmadon 👀
Do I need to bring a sword tomorrow?
She rolled her eyes but didn’t reply. Not yet.
The Kurohane house sat at the edge of the residential district, squeezed between a bookstore and an old tea shop. Lights glowed warm behind the curtains. The scent of simmering broth slipped out as she opened the door.
“I’M A NINJA! NOBODY MOVE!”
Aria flinched as a blur of black fabric and foam sword came charging down the hallway.
“Oliver!” she yelped.
Her ten-year-old brother skidded to a stop, mask half-tilted, hair sticking out like he’d just lost a fight with a wind tunnel. “You should announce yourself! What if I was ambushed by Serpentine ninjas?!”
“There are no—” she started, then sighed, dropping her bag. “You’ve been watching reruns again, haven’t you?”
Oliver puffed his chest. “Training. For my future. Someone in this family’s gotta have reflexes.”
“Uh-huh. Well, someone in this family’s gonna have a headache if you keep yelling like that.”
A chuckle came from the kitchen doorway. “Let her breathe, Oliver.”
Haruto Kurohane leaned against the frame, sleeves rolled up, a smudge of dust still on his wrist from work. His glasses hung from his collar by a cord. “Rough day?”
“Detention,” Oliver announced for her, ever the little traitor. “She’s a criminal now.”
“Thank you, town crier,” Aria muttered, kicking off her shoes.
Haruto raised an eyebrow but didn’t scold. Just smiled faintly, the way he always did when he wanted her to talk at her own pace. “First offense?”
“Not my fault,” she said, brushing past him toward the dining table. “We were drawing.”
“We?” he echoed, amused.
Aria hesitated a heartbeat too long. “Me. And a classmate.”
Before Haruto could press, her mother appeared with a ladle in hand, apron tied askew. “Aria, welcome home. Soup’s almost ready — miso and noodles tonight.”
Maria Kurohane had that soft-but-sharp presence that museum staff often carried: professional, tidy, a little frazzled from too many memberships to coordinate and too few hours in the day. She kissed Aria’s temple as she passed.
“Thanks, Mom.” Aria slid into her usual seat, tugging her sketchbook halfway out of her bag before shoving it back in.
“Was the classmate a boy?” Oliver asked, plopping into the chair across from her with all the subtlety of a marching band.
“Eat your soup,” she deadpanned.
He grinned. “Suspicious.”
Haruto set out the chopsticks with a faint chuckle. “He’s just nosy, don’t mind him.”
But when Aria glanced up, she caught the glint in his eye — that knowing one. The one that said: You’ll tell me when you’re ready.
She didn’t answer. Just stirred her noodles, listening to the warmth of her house — her brother’s loud humming, her mom’s quiet movements, her uncle humming some old museum tune under his breath. It was noisy, familiar, safe.
The smell of miso filled the kitchen, warm and savory. Chopsticks clicked softly as Maria set out bowls, and Haruto uncapped a jar of pickled vegetables with the precision of someone who handled fragile scrolls for a living.
Oliver, of course, was already narrating like his life was an action movie.
“So, Aria comes home late,” he declared, slurping a noodle dramatically, “detention stamped across her forehead, mysterious boy in tow—”
“No boy,” Aria cut in, voice flat.
“—mysterious boy,” he repeated louder, “possibly a ninja spy, possibly a—”
“Oliver.” Her tone carried a warning.
Haruto hid his smile behind his tea. “You’re awfully interested in your sister’s after-school life. Planning to write a report?”
“Planning to make sure my sister’s not fraternizing with—”
“A noodle will shut you up,” Maria interrupted gently, sliding a bowl in front of him. “Eat.”
Oliver grumbled but obeyed, though his eyes still glinted with mischief.
Haruto turned his attention to Aria, more casually. “So… what did you sketch today?”
Aria paused mid-slurp. “…Random stuff.”
“That sketchbook’s never random.” His voice was mild, but his gaze flicked knowingly to the corner of her bag.
Maria chuckled as she sat down, apron strings falling loose. “Let her have her secrets, Haruto. Not everything needs to end up catalogued in the archives.”
“I’m not cataloguing,” Haruto said, mock-offended. “I’m cultivating curiosity.”
Oliver perked up. “So there is a boy!”
Aria groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Can we talk about literally anything else?”
Maria obliged, launching into a story about a new exhibit at the museum: a set of ancient pottery that had arrived three weeks late because someone mislabeled it as “assorted gardening supplies.” Haruto nearly spit his tea at that, and Oliver immediately asked if he could store his action figures in the empty crates.
The conversation drifted, warm and meandering: talk of chores, of Haruto’s latest lecture on artifact preservation, of Oliver’s plan to build a cardboard “training dojo” in the backyard. Through it all, the shelves along the wall caught the orange glow of evening — scrolls half-unrolled, a replica Jade Blade mounted above the counter, a cracked compass in a glass dome that Haruto swore once belonged to an explorer.
It was noisy. It was home.
And for a moment, Aria almost forgot the quiet boy in the green jacket.
The house hummed with life even after the dishes were cleared. Aria padded upstairs to her room, her sketchbook tucked under her arm like a shield against the ordinary world. The hallway smelled faintly of miso soup lingering from dinner and the faint, dusty tang of the artifacts that seemed to inhabit every corner of her home.
The soft creak of the stairs under her feet blended with the muffled thump of Oliver running around somewhere below.
She closed her door behind her and dropped onto her bed, sketchbook open across her lap. The page was blank, daring her to fill it with something that mattered—or at least something that kept her hands busy. She picked up her pencil, dragging it across the paper in long, experimental lines. Shadow, hair, posture… pieces of the boy in green drifted into form under her hand.
Her phone buzzed.
Taro:
. That’s like three whole steps closer to destiny.
Aria:
Go eat a battery, Taro.
Taro:
So you admit it.
She tossed the phone aside, but her smile lingered a fraction too long.
From downstairs came a muffled crash.
“Oliver!” her mother’s voice rang out. “If that’s another catapult, I swear I will—”
Aria snorted, not lifting her head. Of course, it was Oliver. The kid was ten, an endless bundle of energy and absurd ideas. He had an entire collection of makeshift ninja gear—tattered scarves, plastic swords, and a helmet that looked suspiciously like a repurposed colander. Tonight, he was apparently leading a one-man raid on the living room.
Her phone buzzed on the bed beside her. She leaned over and picked it up:
Taro: Kuro-chan. Seriously. I need answers. You were walking with him. Him.
Aria rolled her eyes, already typing a reply while trying not to smudge her pencil work.
Aria: Walking. Not holding hands. Calm down.
Taro: Calm? You know who that is. This isn’t just any guy.
Aria: Taro. I’m fine. Really. Stop imagining spy movies.
Taro: …Fine. But if anything weird happens, I am so—
Aria: I’m not ten, Taro. I can handle myself.
She tossed her phone aside, but her lips curved into a faint smile. Taro always treated her like a sibling he didn’t have permission to parent, which was both infuriating and… oddly reassuring. No one else in her circle knew she had spent time with Lloyd Garmadon today, not like this, not in a normal, human way. And Taro, chaotic and infuriating as he was, would keep an eye out.
Aria returned to her sketchbook. Her pencil hovered over the page. Detention. The faint laugh. The way he had looked at her like he wasn’t expecting anyone to notice him, ever. It had caught her off guard, and she found herself tracing the curve of his shoulder again, just to hold onto the memory. There was a calm in him she couldn’t quite name, the opposite of all the whispers and rumors that followed his name around school like a cloud of storm.
From the hallway came Oliver’s voice, high and triumphant: “I have captured the enemy! Retreat! Retreat!” He tumbled into the staircase railing, knocking over a small vase that rattled on the shelf. Aria groaned, closing her sketchbook just as Haruto’s calm, slightly amused voice floated up from below.
“Careful, Oliver. You’re going to wake the neighbors—or destroy one of your sister’s precious objects.”
“Not the Jade Blade replica,” Oliver wailed, pretending to clutch at a fallen scarf like it was a sword. “The blade is sacred!”
Maria’s laughter followed shortly after. “If the blade breaks, I’m charging you rent for museum restoration, young man.”
Aria shook her head, smiling despite herself. It was ridiculous, chaotic, loud—and completely home. Her family lived in a world of history, of artifacts and scrolls, yet somehow they made it feel warm and lived-in. The shelves in the hallway bore testament: half-unrolled scrolls, glass cases with cracked compasses, a broken quill displayed like a treasured relic. Even in this small domestic chaos, the museum flavor seeped into every corner.
Back in her room, Aria pulled out her sketchbook again. Pencil in hand, she drew him—not the mythical, rumor-haunted Lloyd—but the quiet, curious boy she had actually talked to today. There was a gentleness to the lines now, a softness she hadn’t expected to capture. She paused, leaning back against her pillows.
Her phone buzzed again:
Taro: You’re going to make me lose my mind. You walked with him. And now you’re just sketching?
Aria: I told you. I’m fine. Just friends.
Taro: Friends. Sure. But don’t forget, Kuro-chan… Lloyd Garmadon is… well. Lloyd Garmadon.
Aria: I’m not scared.
Taro: I’m not scared either. I just… want you to be careful.
She smiled faintly. He always had this overprotective streak when it came to her, but it wasn’t the annoying kind—it was the kind that made her feel like she could be reckless and still have someone in her corner.
The soft creak of her bedroom door made her glance up. Haruto appeared, holding a mug of tea. “Sketching again, I see.”
“Yeah,” she admitted, tilting her sketchbook. “I was… trying to get it right.”
Haruto leaned against the doorframe, studying it for a moment. “You’ve got a good eye. You notice the small thing that people miss.”
Aria blinked. “I didn’t… I mean, I didn’t think anyone would notice.”
He smiled, eyes crinkling. “Notice? That’s the point. You see things most people miss. It’s a gift, Aria.”
She felt a warmth in her chest that she didn’t quite recognize. Approval, maybe. Or just the feeling of being understood.
Oliver’s tiny voice interrupted again from the hallway, muffled but determined. “I’m making a dojo! You’ll see! I will become the greatest ninja the world has ever known!”
Maria’s gentle scolding followed: “Oliver! Pajamas are not armor!”
Aria chuckled, closing her sketchbook, and tucked it safely under her pillow. She checked her phone one last time; Taro’s messages had dwindled to an exasperated “Kuro-chan. Sigh. Seriously.”
She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. His laugh. That tiny, unexpected sound. The way he had seemed… quieter, softer than the stories. It lingered in her mind like the faintest note of a song she couldn’t yet name.
Outside, the cicadas hummed, and the city lights blinked faintly. Somewhere, in his own world, Lloyd was probably sitting alone, just like he had before. And maybe, just maybe, he remembered this day too.
Aria exhaled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Sleep tugged at her eyelids, pulling her down into the quiet of her room. Oliver’s snores floated up from the hallway, Maria’s chair creaked as she returned to her emails, Haruto’s lamp burned softly in the corner.
She held onto the sketchbook for a moment, the lines on the page a bridge between worlds—the mundane, loud, artifact-filled warmth of her home, and the quiet, curious boy who had walked beside her today, even if only for a few fleeting minutes.
And though she didn’t yet understand why, the memory of his laugh made her feel… like the world had just a little more room in it for something unexpected.
The house finally settled into a quieter rhythm. Oliver, after at least five more rounds of imaginary ninja battles in the living room, had finally succumbed to exhaustion, sprawled across a pillow mountain that he’d constructed as a “training outpost.” His soft, uneven breathing was punctuated by the occasional mumble—probably some half-formed battle plan—and then nothing but the faint creak of the old wooden floorboards.
Maria had returned to her emails, occasionally murmuring something to herself about artifact inventories or confirming the next museum event. Haruto was still in the living room, lamp casting a golden glow over the scattered papers and half-opened books. He was cataloging something that looked like an explorer’s map, muttering notes under his breath. Aria could hear the soft scratching of his pen on paper from her room, the sound oddly comforting, like the hum of life carrying on around her.
Aria flopped onto her bed again, hugging her pillow, and opened her sketchbook. She couldn’t resist. She flipped to a fresh page and let her pencil wander freely, tracing the memory of Lloyd’s slouched posture, the way his hand had rested lightly on the desk in detention, the tilt of his head when he had looked at her. She tried not to overthink it—just let her hands capture what her mind couldn’t name.
She let out a low breath, Taro’s texts had that mix of teasing and concern that was almost impossible to ignore—but she liked it. Even if he was overprotective, she trusted him. He would keep watch from the sidelines, the silent guardian to her chaos, the only one who knew about today.
Outside her window, the city had grown quiet. Streetlights flickered against the darkened buildings, and the faint buzz of traffic was a distant, comforting hum. Her gaze drifted back to the sketchbook. She traced the faint shadow under his eyes again, the way his hair fell just slightly into his face, and the crease near his temple. That laugh—unexpected, small, completely unremarkable to anyone else—had somehow marked the day for her.
She thought about detention, about the quiet moments, the barely-there conversation, the way he had shifted slightly when she’d shown him the sketch. Not hostile, not distant—just… human. And for someone like Lloyd Garmadon, that was remarkable.
The faint sound of Oliver stirring reminded her of how much life there was in her home. The museum flavor of their house—the scrolls, the ancient artifacts, the shelves cluttered with oddities—was a constant backdrop, grounding her in a world she understood while she tried to make sense of a day that had introduced someone utterly unfamiliar into her orbit.
A soft knock at her door startled her.
“Aria?” Haruto’s voice came through, gentle but carrying the weight of his presence. “Lights are off, I just… wanted to ask. Your sketchbook—make sure to get some rest too. You don’t need to stay up all night capturing everything.”
“I know,” she said softly. “I just… wanted to finish this page.”
“You’ll finish it tomorrow. Remember, inspiration doesn’t run on deadlines.” He paused. “And… you noticed something today. That’s important. I can tell.”
She hesitated, closing the sketchbook gently. “It’s nothing, really.”
“Nothing can be remarkable,” he said quietly. “Just… don’t forget to sleep.”
“Okay,” she murmured. He left without another word, leaving her alone in the quiet of her room.
She lay back against her pillows, drawing her knees up slightly, her mind replaying the day. Lloyd hadn’t been like the rumors, hadn’t carried the weight of his name in the way the school imagined. He was quiet, yes, but not cruel. Distracted, maybe, but thoughtful. And that laugh—a fleeting thing, almost like it didn’t belong in the world of detention and rumors—had left its mark.
Her room was cozy, filled with the soft, familiar clutter of her life: stacks of books about ancient artifacts, a small jade replica perched on the shelf above her bed, trinkets she had collected over the years, each with its own story. The contrast between this world—warm, chaotic, predictable—and the brief, strange orbit of Lloyd’s presence felt… dizzying in a way that made her chest tighten with curiosity rather than anxiety.
The cicadas continued their soft chorus outside, a lullaby for a city that never truly slept. Aria’s eyes drifted closed, the pencil still lightly resting in her fingers. She imagined Lloyd, maybe in his own room, maybe staring at some mundane object the same way she traced the lines on her page. That laugh. Just once. But enough.
Her phone buzzed quietly on the nightstand. A final text from Taro, short and teasing:
Taro: Don’t forget to tell me if he laughs again tomorrow.
She smirked, replying quickly:
Aria: I’ll let you know.
The phone went silent, and finally, so did she. The sketchbook was closed, the pencil put aside. The day had ended in warmth, laughter—Oliver’s antics, Maria’s stories, Haruto’s calm wisdom—and the small, unexpected presence of a quiet boy with a green jacket.
Aria curled under her blankets, listening to the house settle into the deep quiet of night. Somewhere far away, Lloyd might be replaying his own moments, remembering the fleeting attention and simple connection. For now, though, the world narrowed to her room, the soft hum of the city, and a day that felt… just a little extraordinary.
She drifted off to sleep, curiosity coiling gently in her chest, knowing that tomorrow would bring another day—another sketch, another small conversation, and maybe, just maybe, another laugh.
Notes:
THIS chapter took forever, especially for something so simple!
100 percent cliché, but I wanted to/and I kinda have to include Aria's family in the story.Next chapter every Friday, but with my procrastination, no promises! Thanks for your patience!
Cool fic 😎 (Guest) on Chapter 3 Fri 01 Aug 2025 03:05AM UTC
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Cool fic 😎 (Guest) on Chapter 4 Fri 01 Aug 2025 03:12AM UTC
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st4r_du2t on Chapter 5 Thu 07 Aug 2025 01:30PM UTC
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Marsh4000 on Chapter 5 Fri 08 Aug 2025 01:39AM UTC
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st4r_du2t on Chapter 6 Sun 17 Aug 2025 11:18AM UTC
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Marsh4000 on Chapter 6 Sun 17 Aug 2025 06:09PM UTC
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