Princess Harumi Katsuki was a perfect example of Tidus and Leonora Katsuki's infinite compassion. Harumi was rescued from her abusive parents at a young age, and instead of living the rest of her miserable childhood in a foster system, the rich couple took her in. They groomed the young girl, fixing her up to be Ninjago City's little princess. Little Harumi was paraded in front of cameras in adorable dresses while the Katsuki couple doted on her. But when they returned home to their luxurious penthouse, little Princess Harumi was discarded to a flock of maids to be pampered and prodded. She was to eat a certain diet, only watch a certain range of TV shows, and she could only play with a certain set of toys. Off camera, Tidus and Leonora didn't need to be the perfect parents. But in front of the world, they needed to show Mayor Aiza that they mattered.

     As little Harumi grew, she became more and more beautiful. Striking hazel eyes, rich, full lips, and long eyelashes that fluttered delicately like the wings of a butterfly. And with the help of professional makeup artists and hair stylists, Harumi blossomed into the very image of magnificence in the media. Almost every day she was dragged from her quarters to photo shoots of every kind; they were empty gestures that promised the adoring public that she was well-kept and loved. Harumi became the very image of high society. Rich, well-dressed, and extremely lovely.

     Ninjago City adored Tidus and Leonora for their kindness to this magnificent girl, and they loved the girl herself. She was another pretty face, built up with a legacy no one could forget. This was what happened when the benevolent leaders of Ninjago took pity on the lowly. The lowly rose up to become princesses.

     When her eighteenth birthday came, the Katsukis told the public what they'd been waiting years to hear. Princess Harumi was getting married. To the mayor's son. In one week's time.

      And then Princess Harumi went missing.

     All that was left behind was the atrociously gashed body of the Katsuki's most trusted servant, Hutchins.

     That's when all the world realized what had happened. They were outraged, upset, and demanded justice. The veil was ripped off their eyes.

     Princess Harumi Katsuki had been kidnapped.

     "I think the princess is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," Lloyd said, staring at a "Wanted" poster hanging on one of the dock's many stakes. "I hope they find her one day."

     Harumi ripped the poster off the stake and threw the crumpled paper into the mucky, grey-green water below.

     Lloyd almost looked hurt. "What was that for?"

     "No one here is going to know where the princess is," Harumi grouched, leading the young boy towards a swing set that a few of the kinder folks had installed further down the docks. If you swung high enough, you could splash off into the water. No one wanted to splash into the polluted water, but it was a nice sentiment. "She's been missing for over a year."

     "The Ninja will find her," Lloyd announced stubbornly, clutching Harumi's hand.

     Harumi just sighed in response. She helped Lloyd climb onto one the swings, then made sure to push him in the direction opposite of the water. There was no way she was going to drag Lloyd home soaked in filthy muck. Kai would have her hide.

     It'd been a week. Harumi had spent all her free time researching the Ninja and all their recorded encounters. She watched low-quality videos of them taken by conspiracy theorists over and over. But the Ninja's identities hadn't cracked. Harumi was still nowhere closer to figuring out who they were, much less finding them and kidnapping them. Ro was counting on her, and she was failing miserably.

     "Higher!" Lloyd squealed happily, his fluffy hair bouncing with each back-and-forth motion of the swing. Harumi pushed him (with not much more vigor), watching him with even less interest than before. The dumb boy was living a fantasy. In his mind the Ninja were heroes who saved innocents and found kidnapped princesses. But sometimes the heroes were actually the villains, and sometimes princesses didn't want to be found. Harumi wished she could slap the boy in the face so he'd be able to see the truth, but then she'd be fired and she needed money more than she needed to dish out reality checks.

     Harumi was so caught up in her thought process that she didn't hear Lloyd smilingly yell, "Get ready, Ru!"

     She only heard the splash.

     "LLOYD MONTEGOMERY MAYASON!" Harumi screeched, yanking off her hoodie to jump into the water after him. Because Lloyd, in all of his seven-year-old glory, couldn't swim.

      Filthy, dirt-flavored water flooded her mouth and nose, and Ru nearly had an aneurysm just trying to keep her brain clear. She splashed through the muck, barely catching Lloyd's limp form in the water. She dry-heaved as she locked her arms under his armpits, feeling small fish slip down her shirt. Harumi paddled the best she could. Her head stayed afloat, Lloyd's head broke clear of the water, and finally, finally, her hand grasped the slick stakes of the dock.

     It took all of her effort to pull them onto the land, but by then the sensation of the slimy water had set in. It dripped down her hands, down her face, like drops of scarlet blood. Exactly like drops of scarlet blood. Her vision fogged as she frantically wiped her arms to get the water off. This was why she hated washing, hated showers, hated everything to do with water. Lloyd was lost to her at that point.

     "Come on, come on," Harumi pleaded, her voice switching to a whine. The gunk was still stuck to her arms, refusing to come off, refusing to wash away.

     And his body was right before her again, lying on the ground. Limp. Lifeless. Dead.

     The dagger had been smooth, elegant. It was merely a decoration the Katsukis hung in the living room. The rumor was that it had one belonged to the mayor himself, and that he had bestowed it upon the Katsukis as a gift. Harumi had always admired the dagger. It nestled nicely into the curve of her hand; it sliced through the air like butter as she used it as an extension of herself.

     She had one night to get out. One night before the wedding. One night before she was tied down to this awful world forever.

     Nearly a third of the regular guards had come down with a stomach bug. But stomach bugs were always coming and going around the city, so no one questioned anything. Harumi had slipped on her lightest dress, knowing what part she'd have to play to survive in the dregs of the city. A girl like her was of no service to the hardened poor... unless the hardened poor wanted modeling tips.

     She snuck out of her room, detached the dagger from its ornate hilt, and clutched it tightly in her dominant hand. She'd have one chance to do this. Succeed, and she'd finally be free. Fail, and she could die... or worse.

     Hutchins had always been kind to her. It wasn't fair that this had to happen. But Harumi knew life wasn't fair. She'd learned that the hard way, even from her earliest moments of childhood. Tidus and Leonora cared for Hutchins. His death would only be a fragment of the suffering Harumi would inflict upon them in revenge.

     He was conveniently standing next to the penthouse's elevator exit, chit-chatting with a female guard about getting lunch or something the next day. Harumi watched them from afar, then moved in, as slyly as a cat. She dismissed the guard with one wave of her hand, and as soon as the guard's back was turned, stabbed Hutchins's neck with the other. The guard didn't hear Hutchins slump to the floor. Because before she could turn, she felt the dagger slice clean through her fourth and fifth ribs—straight into her heart.

     Hutchins blubbered something as he lost blood, his eyes weakly widening as he saw Harumi's blurry form. It was the wrong move.

     He couldn't survive the night. Harumi swiveled around once again, clutching that dagger, holding it up and driving it down again and again and again. Gore splattered on the ground, on her dress, on her arms and face. She was covered with their blood, but she didn't care. Not in the moment. The shock had numbed her pain.

     She'd ridden the elevator to the next floor down, breaking the windows and escaping to the next skyscraper over. From roof to roof Harumi had jumped, feeling adrenaline coursing through her veins, feeling that sticky, scarlet substance drip down her arms. At some point she stole a cloak. At some point the rain washed the blood from her face. At some point the bus dropped her off downtown, where a ruddy boy with dark hair had found her spasming with shock in the street.

     Hands touched her cheeks.

     And Harumi screamed.