He was in a world of pain.

Cole lay on the ground of the training courtyard, waiting for the world to stop spinning and for his abdomen to stop hurting. While the world eventually slowed down and stopped spinning, his stomach took ages before it stopped hurting.

A chuckle sounded somewhere to Cole's left. A moment later, his sensei's face appeared above him. "You did very well for your first try," Sensei Wu complimented, though it sounded as if he was holding back a laugh.

Cole groaned and slowly sat up. "Doesn't feel like I did well...."

"No, I would suspect not. Fear not, you will get better in time," Sensei assured him.

A scoff reached Cole's ears then. "Not if you keep charging in head-first like a effing idiot," an echoey voice sneered.

Despite telling himself that he wouldn't, Cole found himself twisting his head some and glaring up at the roof of the monastery. Sure enough, the ghost that hung out around the place was sitting in his usual place on the roof, smirking derisively at him.

Feeling childish(and against his instincts), Cole stuck his tongue out at the ghost.

The ghost's eyes widened in surprise before he promptly scowled and flipped Cole off.

"What are you doing, young pupil?" Sensei asked, sounding confused.

Cole flinched. Crap. "I, uh--there was a... bird on the roof. It looked like it was mocking me." He looked directly at the ghost and gave him a slight smirk. "I was just mocking it back. It's not like it could have done much better."

The death glare that was sent Cole's way almost didn't make the slight worth it.

Almost.

"Ah. Well, while I am sure you are most likely correct, do not underestimate the capabilities of another, be they human or otherwise," Sensei gently lectured. "They may end up surprising you and in a fight, that could have disastrous consequences."

Cole nodded his head. "Yes Sensei."

"Now, let's try this again."

"And this time, get hit in the balls."

Cole fought hard not to throw something at the ghost.

~~~~~

Training to be a ninja was much harder than Cole thought it would be.

Mountain climbing had ensured that he had strength and endurance and, while he hated to admit it, dancing had given him a decent amount of flexibility. However, he was somewhat lacking in the speed category. And, despite what cartoons and movies made it seem, actual hand-to-hand fighting was a lot harder than simple kicks and punches.

What didn't help at all was the fact that, more times than not, Cole would catch the ghost watching him—usually on the roof, but sometimes he'd come down and float over the courtyard, hurling insults down at Cole all the while. When Cole would try to talk to the ghost(or retaliate—some of the stuff thrown his way was downright rude!), the ghost would then vanish to who knows where(with usually one last insult or middle finger).

Cole didn't know why he still tried to talk to the ghost. He was such a jerk! Every night, Cole would swear to himself that he would ignore the ghost from now on, but by the time morning came, he was back at it, with virtually no success.

That is, until he decided to play a little bit dirty.

It was a little short of two weeks since he had started his training. Sensei Wu had gone down the mountain to a nearby village to get some more tea, leaving instructions that Cole was to go through some basic forms with a wooden practice scythe. Sensei had also suggested that, if Cole was feeling brave enough, he could attempt the obstacle course on his own.

After three more failed attempts(he had been so close on the third one! Stupid dummy hitting him off course at the last second....), Cole had decided that he had had enough and instead went to practice with his weapon.

For reason, holding the scythe in his hands felt....right. He knew it was kind of weird, but the minute he had first held a scythe in his hands, he was filled with a sense of belonging, as if his entire being was saying "you are where you are meant to be, this is your true calling". He was still a little clumsy wielding the thing, but Sensei had told him that he was a natural at it, that the clumsiness would fade in time and with some more training.

Cole didn't mind. Training was fun. Especially now that he was alone.

"Your reign of terror is at an end, evil villain," he intoned, pointing at a stuffed dummy with his scythe(and ignoring how it wobbled slightly in his grasp). "I am about to destroy you."

The dummy, of course, said nothing, but a slight breeze tipped the helmet on its head sideways a little.

Cole gasped dramatically. "You dare insult me?!" he cried indignantly, dropping into a proper fighting stance. "Foul fiend! En garde!"

He swung his scythe at the dummy, pleased when the wooden blade came into contact with the dummy's abdomen. He twirled the scythe in his hands, pretending to block strikes from his opponent. He then dropped and struck out with his leg, sweeping out the dummy's "legs" out from under it. The dummy fell onto its back with a soft thud. Seeing his opportunity, Cole stomped his foot on the dummy's chest and placed the blade of his weapon underneath its chin. "It is over, cursed soul." Cole raised his scythe above his head in victory. "Ninjago has been saved!"

"Oh joy," an echoey voice sneered sarcastically. "Everyone is practically jumping with joy from being saved from a effing dummy."

Cole jumped at the unexpected voice. He quickly located the unexpected guest--in his usual spot on the roof--and had to hold back a groan of frustration(and embarrassment--he hoped that he hadn't been watching him for very long...).

Regaining his composure, Cole offered the ghost a grin. "Hey, it helps me be prepared for the actual thing." He stepped off of his defeated opponent and started swinging his scythe mindlessly. "I was doing pretty good with those fighting forms that Sensei showed me, right?"

"Oh suuuuuuuuure," The ghost replied, rolling his eyes. "If by 'pretty good', you mean that you were butchering those forms so badly that the people who came up with them are probably rolling over in their graves from intense shame and embarrassment, then yeah. You were effing fantastic."

Okay, ouch. That was needlessly harsh. Cole almost snapped at the ghost when, an idea came to him.

Instead of getting angry, Cole replied, "Wow, harsh judgment. What makes you say that?"

"Sloppy footwork, weak defense, too aggressive of an offense, bad technique, effing terrible dialogue..." the ghost laid down on his back and smirked upside-down at Cole. "Should I go on?"

Cole's eyebrow twitched but he managed to keep up a calm, even intrigued face. "Wow, you sound like an expert at this stuff," he commented lightly. "If you don't mind....can you show me a few moves? If only to show me where I'm making my mistakes."

The ghost scoffed. "Piss off, I'm not showing some newbie wannabe anything."

Cole had to hold back a smirk. Gotcha.

"Oh," he said, doing his best to sound as disappointed as he could. "Guess you're not such an expert after all. I mean, if you don't want to show me, a newbie wannabe, your moves, then I guess you weren't that great either..."

The glare that was leveled on Cole in that moment could have melted stone. Cole managed not to squirm and instead gave the ghost a sad look.

Finally, the ghost sat up and floated down from the roof. "Alright, you little piece of shit," he growled, floating to Cole and pointing a finger in the young teen's face. "You want to see some 'expert' moves so badly? Sparring ring. NOW."

Cole gulped a little in fear, but quickly shook it off. "Sure! Just don't go too easy on me," he said, making his way closer to the designated sparring area.

The ghost scoffed at him. "What makes you think that I'm going to go 'easy' on you?" he asked, making his way over to where the other practice weapons and picking up another practice scythe. He floated over to the opposite side of the sparring area and turned to face Cole. "Alright, when you're ready, go ahead and attack me."

Cole nodded and got into a fighting stance....only to blink in confusion when his opponent didn't do the same, instead choosing to lean against his scythe and inspect his fingernails.

"What happened to not going easy on me?" he muttered aloud, narrowing his eyes at the ghost.

The ghost didn't reply. He yawned and continued to study his fingers.

Shrugging, Cole tightened his grip on his scythe. He shuffled a little to the side, where the ghost's hair appeared to cover up his eye and block his line of sight. He bounced a little on his feet before he attacked.

"YAAAAAAAH!"

He swung his scythe at the ghost, fully intending to land a blow on his opponent's shoulder or maybe abdomen.

The ghost moved.

Almost faster than Cole could see, the ghost tossed the scythe up into his hands and brought it up to block Cole's swing. The scythes collided each other with such force that Cole had to let go of his, crying out as the force made his hands hurt.

In the next moment, the young teen then found himself on the ground on his back, gasping for breath as pain radiated from his solar plexus.

"Like I said," the ghost said, twirling his scythe in his hands. "Terrible technique." He then poked Cole's feet with the blade of his weapon. "Come on, stand up. I didn't hit you that effing hard."

Cole groaned but managed to stagger onto his feet, rubbing his stomach. "'Didn't hit me that hard', my butt," he growled.

"You should feel lucky that this is a practice scythe," the ghost replied. "Now, first mistake," he pointed his scythe in Cole's face. "Don't effing telegraph your attacks, idiot. Even a complete novice could see that attack coming from five miles away. Also, this," he swung his scythe in a smooth arc. "Is not a effing club. Stop swinging it like it is one."

Cole pouted some, a little put out by the harsh criticism, but accepted it with a nod.

The ghost seemed pleased with Cole's attentiveness(that, or he was still relishing over how easily he had beaten Cole...). He pointed at Cole's fallen weapon. "Pick that up. I'll have you able to use the effing thing even if it kills you."

~~~~

Cole was exhausted.

He was sore, sweaty, and absolutely starving. But he had finally, finally, wielded his scythe properly.

Or at least, properly in his mind. The ghost had just called it 'passable' and seemed about to make Cole go through the forms again but relented after seeing that the young teen was on the verge of collapse.

"Pathetic," he spat at Cole's bent over form. "I could have gone on for at least another hour."

Cole was too tired to do much more than glare at him.

The ghost shook his head at him. "How the eff did you end up being one of the saviors of Ninjago?" He muttered under his breath, so quietly that Cole barely caught it, and shocking him with amount of...bitterness in it.

Before Cole could question it, the doors of the monastery opened up and Sensei walked into the yard. "Ah. Hard at work, are we young pupil?" He asked.

Cole nodded. "Y-Yes, Sensei," he managed to pant.

Sensei nodded at him. "In that case, you can be done for the day. Have you eaten yet?"

Cole's stomach answered with a loud grumble. The young teen blushed a bright pink while his sensei laughed. "I shall take that as a no," Sensei chuckled, turning and walking inside the monastery. "Come, then. I shall fix us an early dinner."

His teacher already inside, Cole went to follow him...only to stop when he came face-to-face with a very angry-looking ghost.

"Give that son of a bitch any reason to suspect that I'm still around," the ghost hissed. "And I swear, I will slip into your room in the middle of the night and effing murder you in your sleep. Got me?"

Cole nodded quickly, frightened out of his wits and barely resisting the urge to touch the scar on his forehead. Seemingly satisfied, the ghost turned around and floated back up to the roof, where he quickly vanished from.

Cole took in a deep breath, trying to slow down his rapidly beating heart. What the heck was THAT about? He wondered.

No doubt about it, there was some serious bad blood between that guy and Sensei Wu. Cole just hoped that whatever had happened between the two them stayed between the two of them.

He didn't want to be offed because he accidentally pissed off the wrong person—Er, ghost.

Shaking his head, Cole walked into the monastery, hoping that things would get better in time.

(It took him a couple of hours to realize that he still didn't have a name for the ghost.)

~~~~~~

Well....that went well....