Bombay Bicycle Club
••• How Can You Swallow So Much Sleep •••

saw you head back
with your eyes looking down
and it's all wasted now
told you, but you can't take it

•••••

TW: slight harm, brief mention of gun violence, blood

  The next week was spent apprehensively waiting for a text that didn't come.

  I fell into a reluctant kind of acceptance - obviously, Skateboard-slash-Lloyd didn't care about his hoodie enough to retrieve it and my own skateboard was as good as trash, anyway. I'd forever be left with this green garment that would sit and gather dust in my closet, reminded of the boy I had a moment with and gave him a concussion on the same day, and then never saw him again.

  I stared at his contact on the odd occasion as if I could will him to text me. It didn't work.

  So, I decided to do better with my time and get out of the house, even when my friends said that they couldn't hang out.

  "We've only just arrived and you've already become the street sweetheart," my mum teased one evening after I spent the day helping the old man down the street, Mr. Clarice, weed his garden and wash the outside of his windows.

  I shrugged as I scooped some pasta onto my plate. "I like helping people," was my simple response.

  The other thing I'd do was watch documentaries on topics like how cheese was made, or what we knew about Mars, and other various miscellaneous topics to keep my mind ticking and occupied so I wouldn't go stir crazy. I loved summer, but sometimes I did miss the simple routine of school.

  It was probably four days after I'd hit the blond boy on the head with a skateboard when I began staring at the folded, green hoodie that sat atop my chest of drawers. The evenings were colder in this house than I was used to, and I was severely lacking in warm, thick clothing due to Mum's insistence of a thorough spring clean of both of our cupboards before the big move.

  It's just because I'm cold, was the excuse I told myself as I reached for the neatly folded thing. With a sheepish look around (it was my room and the curtains were closed for the night, it's not as if anybody could see me - but I was paranoid), I gently slipped the hoodie on.

  I sat on my bed in contemplative silence. It was big on me. No, actually, it was gargantuan, and I was practically drowning in the folds of the soft cotton. It looked like one of those hoodie dresses that had started going into fashion a year ago.

  It was so comfortable.

  My nose caught a hint of the hoodie's scent again, and I was reminded of my major histocompatibility complex being the opposite of his. More like Major Histo-Crazy Complex. What was I doing?

  It did smell nice, though. And it was just science - I like science.

  I hesitantly, slowly, picked up the hem of the neckline and brought it to my nose.

  My bedroom door slammed open.

  "Guess what-?"

  I screamed and yanked the hoodie off as fast as I could move, but it got caught on my ponytail before I could throw the evidence behind my bed. I ended up failing like a fish on land, trying to remove it in vain. I could feel my mother's shocked stare.

  Defeated, I stilled, pouting while my upper half was caught in a spring-smelling, soft-cotton heavenscape death trap of my own design.

  Mum went silent. And then she laughed.

  "Stop laughing!" I whined, my voice muffled by the hoodie. I heard a thud and envisioned that it was my cruel, awful mother, leaning against the wall while she howled in amusement at my poor suffering.

  "Ha-ha! I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" Mum gasped for breath, sounding not at all apologetic. I worked the hoodie off of me and slumped with a grumpy frown. "I'm sorry! Just- ha-ha! Are you wearing that boy's hoodie?"

  I stood and threw the hoodie at her. She stumbled back a step and caught it, still crying with laughter. My pout deepened.

  "I'm cold, okay!" I complained. "I wouldn't have to if you didn't tell me to get rid of all of my sweatshirts! Besides, I think it smells nice!"

  Mum stopped at that and I immediately wanted to die for even speaking at all. She stared at me for a beat before lifting the hoodie and giving it a whiff. She scrunched her nose in displeasure.

  "It smells like teenage boy's body spray and old hot chocolate," she said. Her eyes turned to me in mourning. "Please don't tell me you like the smell of Lynx. I thought I raised you to have better standards."

  "It doesn't smell like that!" I insisted. I stomped over and snatched the hoodie from her grasp before retreating back to my bed. She nonchalantly raised her palms.

  "Ceasefire," Mum drawled before crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. "Okay, then, what does it smell like, O' Wise Bloodhound Daughter O' Mine?"

  "Don't talk like that."

  "I don't think I'm the one we should be judging here." At my prolonged silence, Mum huffed. "Spill it, Y/n."

  I opened my mouth before pausing and pursing my lips. She raised her brows. I sheepishly, meekly, embarrassedly tucked my hair behind my ear and stared at the hoodie in my grasp.

  "It... it smells like spring," I mumbled.

  "Spring?"

  I nodded, feeling small.

  "Huh," Mum said with a lot less teasing than I expected. "That's, uh... interesting."

  "It's weird," I grumbled, crossing my arms with the hoodie folded between them. "Just say it."

  "It is weird," she agreed, but her words were slow as if she had to think about what to say before she spoke it into the world. "But, you know... sometimes the world just works in weird ways. What's this boy's name again?"

  "Skateboard," I said sarcastically, before sitting back on the bed with a dejected sigh. "I think it's Lloyd G-something."

  Mum didn't respond. Curious, I turned my pitiful glare up to her and was further propelled into confusion at the frown of deep thought on her lips. There was an unusual faraway look in her eyes.

  "Mum?" I tilted my head. "Are you okay?"

  "... yeah," she said distantly. She kept staring at the floor as if it were something deeply interesting. "Yeah, just remembering something."

  My frown deepened. Mum cleared her throat and tapped her fingers on the doorframe, gaze lifting to me. She swallowed with an unsure expression. I held the hoodie tight in my lap.

  "I have to go back to work, something about misplaced reports and Emily was freaking out over the phone." Mum finally broke the silence. "Get yourself some dinner. Don't do anything stupid, like wear a stranger's hoodie. He could be diseased or something."

  I wanted to roll my eyes, but her odd behaviour kept me from being amused at her dig. "Okay," I answered.

  I waited until Mum had left before slipping the hoodie back on, and I was deeply upset and annoyed at how content I felt to wear it. There must've been something in the water. I was losing my mind.

  "You are going to be my undoing," I said to the hoodie.

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

  "I need to buy more hoodies," I grumbled to myself as I helped Molly search for her missing cat. It was one of those really cold summer days, where it didn't actually feel like summer and was instead just belated winter.

  I sniffled and shoved my hands into the pockets of Skateboard's hoodie, cheeks pink in flustered frustration at the prospect of even wearing it again. I'd even gone as far as to shove it into the back corner of my closet the other day and prayed that it'd be out of sight, out of mind.

  No such luck.

  I was kicking myself for caving while the sun sank towards evening. Sure, it was soft and fluffy, and it dropped to mid-thigh, and I wanted to curl into a ball inside it and fall asleep - but it belonged to a stranger.

  I didn't have a choice, however, as the search for Molly's tabby cat - Pumpkin - had spanned on for hours and my arms felt like they were going to fall off from how cold it was. I'd eventually relented to my chattering teeth and retrieved the hoodie that I had hidden away for my own good. I desperately prayed that my mother wouldn't catch me wearing it (again).

  Not because I was embarrassed about it, or anything.

  I was totally embarrassed about it.

  "Pumpkin!" I loudly called and maybe my voice broke because I was thinking about the look Skateboard boy's face would twist into if he saw me, a stranger, wearing his, a stranger's, hoodie.

  Not good, not good at all.

  I stuck my head down to peer into the darkness of what lay under Molly's porch.

  "Pumpkin?" I asked. Not a single meow of a reply. I straightened with a huff.

  Dusk was fast approaching, catching the street in an eerie pinkish-ochre glow. Just beyond the rooftops of the short suburban houses that spanned an impressive number of blocks sat the first of the skyscraper buildings of Ninjago City, and already, its artificial lights were flooding the darkening evening.

  A few faint stars could be seen sparkling in the ombré sky, but not above the city, never above the city. They were hidden away in the corner, sat above the desert, untouched by the invisible layer of light pollution. My feet, wearing only jandals, were starting to freeze.

  "Pumpkin!" I called again, and briefly heard Molly call from the other end of the street, and then also the buzz of my phone.

  I gave a weary sigh as I pulled my phone from the sagging pocket of the hoodie that was miles too large for me and peeked at the screen. I almost dropped it to the grass.

🛹:
hey :)
Sent 6.27pm

  Cat hunt momentarily forgotten, I took a tentative seat on the edge of Molly's porch and stared, dumbstruck, at the notification. My hand clasped over my mouth as I glared at the message, wide-eyed, while my phone unlocked and opened our (almost) empty message thread.

  'Hey smiley face.' It was such a simple, carefree beginning to a conversation. But what was I supposed to reply with? 'Hi! <3'? No, that was too forward for a first message to a boy I had a moment with and then probably almost caused him haemorrhaging.

  'Hi' was too formal, 'hey' too disinterested. Do I send a smiley back?

  Just as I was tempted to turn off my phone, return to the hunt for Pumpkin, and let future Y/n deal with replying, my eyes caught what colour his message came through as; blue.

  Noo, it came through on bMessage. He must've had a bPhone, meaning he had read receipts, too, meaning that I couldn't procrastinate because he'd have seen that I'd seen his text and then think I was ignoring him.

  Curse you Cyrus Borg and your cool phone's cool messaging features.

  I hunched over my lap, thumbs poised to type. It's not hard. Don't overthink. Just say hi. It's easy. H-I, hi, just say hi. Hi.

  Why aren't you typing?

  "I'm sure it'll be fine if I give myself some time to think about how to reply," I chirped to my empty audience and stood. I got exactly three steps down Molly's lawn before the immediate onset of guilt had me pulling out the phone again.

  I quickly typed out a response and pressed send before I could spiral into a whirlwind tornado of embarrassment and double-thinking.

Me:
hi!
Read

  There; easy, simple, clean. Transient enough to be taken as both eager and content, but not overly excited enough to send him running.

  I hoped.

  I returned to my seat on the edge of Molly's porch and anxiously waited for the small grey dots to taunt me while he typed. I'd never been good at talking to people in a way that employed natural conversation, and if you thought that texting would be easier then wrong, no, bad, you're stupid, because no, not at all was it easier.

  And don't even get me started on how hard it was to speak over a phone call. I would rather die than answer an unfamiliar number. The only people I could comfortably text and call were my parents, my godfather, Naomi and Aaliyah.

  I sucked in a breath through my teeth when the small grey circles of anxiety popped up on the screen. Hiding the bottom of my face in the neck hem of the green hoodie, I halfheartedly pondered about what special kind of fucked up I had to be to wear a stranger's hoodie while texting him.

🛹:
sorry i didnt text you earlier, ive been pretty busy this last week
Sent 6.33pm

  Oh, god; a man who used commas in his texting instead of letting the sentence run onto the second and thus not making my brain melt for the overwhelming length of a millisecond? This was just unfair.

  Fur brushed against my ankle and I peeked over the edge of my phone. A tabby face with yellow eyes was staring at me from the ground.

  "There you are, Pumpkin," I sighed as the cat leapt onto the porch and settled beside me. "Can you help me text a boy? You'd probably be better at it than I am."

  Pumpkin mewed.

  "You're so right," I murmured as I stared at the small keyboard on my phone and tried to think of what to say. "That is pathetic of me."

Me:
thats alg! ive been pretty busy too
Read

  Lies, the inner voice that liked to bully me seethed. You haven't done anything substantial all week.

  Pumpkin rolled onto his back and basked in the dying sun.

  Aside from finding Pumpkin. Well, actually, he found me. So, even that didn't count.

🛹:
i have some bad news
Sent 6.35pm

Me:
dont tell me you hit ur head again
Read

🛹:
ha!
Sent 6.37pm

🛹:
boy scout never tells
Sent 6.37pm

  While the grey dots danced on the bottom of my screen, I scratched Pumpkin under his chin. I was pleasantly surprised by the positive reaction to my joke; my worst fear was cracking one while panicked and then getting an odd response, which would only heighten my panic further.

  He seemed to like it, though. Texting him wasn't as bad as I feared.

🛹:
your boards not gonna make it. clean break, you got me pretty good
Sent 6.39pm

  I sunk into myself with embarrassed shame. Great, he was probably gonna tell me not to worry about the hoodie and I was never going to see him again. Dejected, I frowned.

Me:
oh no, what am i gonna tell its family?
Read

🛹:
that it died a valiant death, a hero's death. it got the viking pyre funeral and all
Sent 6.41pm

  I cracked a smile. It was a shame that I was never going to see him again; he was funny, and I managed to bounce off him pretty well. That was rare.

Me:
ofc ofc
Read

  I was met by silence. I tapped my feet on the grass and anxiously patted Pumpkin (who was clearly judging me). When no new message came through for ten minutes, I sighed in defeat and meandered my way down the street.

  "Oh, hello!" Molly said when she noticed my approach. She was accompanied by her friend, Mei, who was around the same age but had a small, yappy dog instead of a tabby.

  "My, dear, that jersey looks like it's drowning you!" Mei snickered. Molly raised her brows at her friend.

  "Mei! It's obviously her boyfriend's. Stop teasing the poor girl."

  Ah, yes, my boyfriend. My nonexistent boyfriend. My boyfriend that does not exist. My boyfriend that I do not have in any sense of the word. Yes, my boyfriend.

  I pulled what I hoped to be a normal-looking smile. Or at least, a smile that didn't look like I was about to break down into ashamed tears.

  "I found Pumpkin," I said before the pair of elderly ladies could start arguing again. "Or, well, he found me. He's on your porch."

  "Oh, thank you, dear," Molly said with a grateful smile. "It's nice having a young one on this street. It's so full of old codgers."

  "Molly!"

  "It's true!" Molly replied to Mei. They began to bicker as they usually did, and I slowly shuffled away with an awkward smile and waved goodbye.

  My phone buzzed.

🛹:
wanna meet up saturday?
Sent 6.57pm

  My chest warmed and I beamed. Pumpkin mewed from Molly's perch as I passed, typing out my eager response while the evening darkened. Behind me, Ninjago City seemed to shine even brighter.

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

  Thursday was another day to myself and a day that I used to my advantage - I explored Ninjago City.

  Correction; I explored Ninjago City's library, took out one too many books for me to carry home, and sought refuge under the park's massive trees from the sweltering sun because my friends couldn't make the time to hang out with me. Again.

  Unlike the past couple of days, it was an afternoon of scorching pavements and burning skin. I leaned against a tree while flicking through one of the books from my stash - The Life and Lessons of Sensei Yang - and waited for the sun to cool before continuing my journey home.

  Occasionally, my eyes would jump from the words and rove the scene before me; a park being utilised to its fullest. Children playing tag, couples walking dogs, families having picnics, and teens crowding around speakers. The grass was so green, and the trees were also green, and the butterflies flitting through the bushes were green and the ninja's gi was green-

  What? I furrowed my brow at the turn of thought as I stared at the lake that took up the centre of the park, glistening in the light of the sky. Why did I start thinking about the Green Ninja?

  It'd been just over a week since my encounter with the famed Green Ninja, and I found myself sporadically thinking back to him. For no rhyme nor reason, he just seemed to be able to take over my mind at the drop of a hat - him and Lloyd. It was like they were battling for attention in my brain.

  I wondered what the Green Ninja was doing at that very moment. Was he fighting crime, somewhere out in the shadows? Was he investigating a drug ring? What about the whispering of the gangs in downtown?

  I wondered what kind of music he liked, or what books he had on his bookshelf. I wondered what his favourite cuisine was and if he was a dog or cat person.

  And I wondered where Lloyd was; was he hanging out with friends, like how every other person our age was doing? Was he going to beach parties? Did he have a girlfriend he spent the summer days with? Or did he spend his days alone, like me?

  No, stop, I scolded myself as I forced my eyes to return to the words before me. You'll never see the Green Ninja again and Lloyd is... nothing's going to come of him. No point in asking questions that nobody will be able to answer.

  Because I knew that if I started humouring my innocent queries, I would just keep coming up with more and more questions, and then suddenly I'd be staring at the ceiling of my room while trying to sleep, unable to, too preoccupied by the desperate want for knowledge squeezing my melatonin levels and refusing me rest.

  I huffed through my nose and continued to read. I felt the tug on my gut before I heard the voice.

  "Skateboard girl?"

  My brows furrowed further at the strange sensation in my stomach, but I pushed it to the side in favour of whipping my head up at the call.

  Skateboard boy (or Lloyd) stood on the path just before me, staring at me with a pleasantly surprised smile.

  I flinched at his pretty face and slammed the heavy book shut louder than I meant to. My cheeks burst aflame - he'd forgone a hoodie and instead opted for a dark green t-shirt, leaving his pale arms exposed to the sun. I forgot how pretty his arms were.

  "I thought it was you," Skateboard-Boy-or-Possibly-Lloyd said. He took a few steps forward to catch the same umbrella of shade I had holed myself away into. "Fancy seeing you here."

  I stared at his green eyes - god, why was everything green? - and tried hard to remember what words were appropriate to reply with. I wasn't prepared for social interaction, having fully intended on losing myself in my books for a good few hours. Conversation wasn't on my list of things to do for that day.

  "Hey," I finally managed to breathe out, still reeling in shock.

  "Keeping yourself busy?" he asked. I followed his amused gaze to my small tower of books and sheepishly chuckled. I may have gone a bit overboard.

  "For a few hours, at least," I murmured. His lips jumped into a grin.

  "Sensei Yang..." he murmured as he cocked his head to the side to get a better view of the cover of the book in my lap. His gaze jumped to me. "You like ninjitsu?"

  I glanced down at the biography that was staring back at me accusingly. You were meant to be investing your time in reading me, not chatting to a boy.

  I'm sorry, beautiful book...

  "Uh, yeah," I replied hesitantly, knitting my fingers together. "... it's been growing on me. What are you doing here?"

  He pointed out at the field, where a group of teens were lounging on the grass and soaking in the sun.

  "Just hanging out with my family. Well, most of them. Zane's around here somewhere."

  I perked up at that and peered a little closer. It was a sizeable group, and I was taken aback by the fact that he was from such a big family. It was so much unlike my own, with me being an only child.

  "You have siblings?"

  "Oh, well," Skateboard Boy chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. I noticed that he had faint, blond freckles that dashed across his pale cheeks. "Not really. They're my friends, but we're all so close that I forget we're not related. Otherwise, no, I'm an only child."

  "Me, too..." I said, voice slowing in flustered shock as he settled down onto the grass before me at a comfortable distance away. I cleared my throat and picked up my book, if only to distract my panicking thoughts by fiddling with its frayed edges. "Is your head doing okay?"

  "Oh, I'm going to have the coolest scar," he gushed, lifting his fringe and showing off the shiny pink skin. I winced. "And what a story! Valiantly defeated by a skateboard. I'm like Harry Potter, but better."

  I couldn't help the giggle. He was such a dork, and I found it easy to talk to him despite my cripplingly inept social skills. Maybe accidentally hitting him with a skateboard wasn't the worst thing to have done. He was certainly making my summer far more interesting than what I had begun to fear would be the most boring.

  "I'm sorry," I apologised while holding the book to my chest and remembered, once again, that I still wasn't sure if his name was Lloyd or not. "I can't believe I did that to you. Usually, I'm getting myself into trouble, not dragging other people down with me."

  He was unbothered by that. "Don't worry about it. Where's your group at?"

  I blinked at the question. A hollow feeling began to settle in my stomach, and my eyes fell away.

  "Oh, uh... they couldn't make it today," I said with a small shrug as I recalled back to my request to hang out from the night before, but to no avail. "It's hard to get everyone together sometimes. But it's okay. I kind of prefer being by myself, anyway."

  He frowned slightly. The sun began to warm his cheek, haloing him in gold. I felt my chest seize slightly at his sympathetic expression - it was the same one my mother had used on me when I told her about Claire sending me home, though with less suspicion. I found myself not minding it from him.

  "You can join us if you want?" he offered.

  I felt myself freeze and fill with dread. "No, it's- it's okay. I don't really handle meeting a lot of new people well." Five people were a lot of new faces to be introduced to, and I still didn't even know Skateboard-slash-Lloyd all that well, either. "But thank you."

  Maybe-Lloyd's frown deepened and I was almost blinded by the sympathy in his gaze. I was saved from what I assumed would be an insistence, or maybe an awkward goodbye, or a myriad of other outcomes by the appearance of another stranger.

  He had dark, coily hair pulled back from his forehead by an orange hairband and a face that looked ready to break into a warm grin at any second. But he was massive, my god, an absolute ox of a man, with broad shoulders that were probably twice the length of mine. He made probably-Lloyd look teeny, and me like a speck of dust.

  "Hey, kid," the newcomer said, and his brown eyes flickered to me with unsubtle curiosity. I sunk under his gaze, unsure what to do with myself. "Sorry to break your date up, but we gotta get going."

  "Shut your trap, Cole," Skateboard Boy shot back with burning cheeks. I hid in on myself in embarrassment, curling closer to the tree. Cole snickered as Lloyd stood and turned to me. "Sorry. I'll see you on Saturday."

  My eyes jumped up when they began to walk towards their group, and I felt my heart leap into my throat.

  "Wait!" I called, scrambling to my feet. The two boys looked back with matching expressions of curiosity and I felt myself begin to regret calling for him. "I, uh... I never did get your name."

  They both stiffened and Cole looked away. I thought nothing of it, too enraptured by my anxiety to notice their awkward body language.

  "I'm Y/n L/n," I added for good measure.

  Skateboard Boy hesitated, looking to Cole, but the bulkier man had purposefully turned his face away. Skateboard Boy audibly swallowed and turned his green eyes back to me, and I found myself briefly wondering why he was taking so long to reply.

  "... I'm Lloyd," he finally said. When I titled my head, he continued, his last name tangled with a sigh as it left his lips; "Garmadon."

  Claire was right, was my first reaction. My second was to gasp, which caused him to flinch and for Cole's gaze to whip back towards me.

  "You do have an old name!" I gushed in excitement. "Oh, wow, that's so cool! You must be directly related to one of the first villages of Ninjago!"

  They stared at me in bewilderment and I felt my excitement bristle and wane into horror at my outburst. Heat crawled up my neck. Just when was starting to think I was getting better with people, I went and opened my big mouth.

  "... yeah, I am," Lloyd said with a delayed, slightly stunned reaction. "Distantly."

  "Fascinating," Cole said with a genuine smile sent my way, and then an impatient smack in the back of the head at Lloyd. He yelped. "Let's go, Romeo."

  "Don't call me that!" he snapped. I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning at their brotherly relationship. Lloyd glanced back at me, looking brighter than he did before. "See you around, Y/n."

  My teeth released my lip and I gave a small smile in return. "Bye, Lloyd."

  He waited for just another second, smile growing, before another call of his name had him running across the park to join his family. Two of his brothers- both brunet, though one more chestnut-haired and curly than the other - were making kissy faces at Lloyd. He jostled them with a boyish, charming laugh.

  Cole said something, which made the girl with black hair gasp, and then a bunch of curious eyes turned to me.

  Eager to avoid their gazes, I ducked my head back into the biography book and pretended not to have noticed them. I wondered which one of them was Zane, or if he'd returned to the group at all.

  A half-hour after Lloyd and his friends left, I decided that it was time to take my leave, too. Plus, there was an ice cream truck that had caught my attention.

  Tucking my pile of books under my arm, I bought a cone and began making my way towards the exit of the park. I struggled with keeping all the books together and prayed that they wouldn't fall - god forbid I damaged government property.

  When I felt a cool drop of something hit my hand, I'd realised my fatal mistake in letting the ice cream sit for too long while I tried to wrangle control over the books. It became more and more of a steady mess, and I quickly felt my okay-day turn into a terrible-day. Leave it to the little things to ruin it for you.

  I groaned, dumping my books onto a bench while I attempted to clean the mess on my hand with the napkin. It wasn't working, the ice cream was only melting faster, and I felt my frustration rise - not only for the ruined treat, but also from my friends not being able to hang out.

  It's not their fault. You're just irritated.

  I grabbed my books again, a little rougher with them than I usually was, and went to search for a bin. What a waste of money. Annoyed tears stung in my eyes.

  "Here."

  I jumped at the voice, turning to find a pale man with even paler hair standing before me. He was holding out a fabric shopping bag in his hand.

  "Thank you," I breathed, dropping the books into the bag before taking it from his outstretched hand. I decided not to focus on how badly I must've been struggling that I needed a stranger to help me out. I peeked inside the bag to make sure that the covers weren't getting bent. "You're a lifesaver."

  I glanced back up to my neatly dressed hero, only to find nobody standing there. My eyes widened at the empty space before me.

  "Weird," I whispered to myself. Then I realised that my ice cream had stopped dripping and had been re-frozen and re-shaped into perfection. My hand wasn't even messy anymore. My eyes widened further. "Weirder."

  I slowly made my way out of the park, head racing and clutching the bag with white knuckles.

  "This city is driving me nuts," I breathed, before giving my possibly dark-magicked ice cream a lick, anyway.

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

  My new favourite reading nook was on the roof of my house.

  I discovered it one day after walking Mei's dog for extra pocket money. I'd stopped in the driveway of my house and stared up at the straight slab of roof, looked to the ladder outside of my bedroom's window, and finally let curiosity win.

  I wasn't too big a fan of heights, so I'd tried to keep myself from thinking too much about it. But once again, my thirst for knowledge was my toxic trait, and I wanted to know what it looked like up there.

  What I found was my new favourite place to read. The view was beautiful, peeking into the desert on one side and getting a taste of the city on the other side. Quiet suburban streets stretched far, and when the wind was gentle and the heat was in an easy temperament, it was a perfectly peaceful place to get lost in books.

  Perfectly peaceful, of course, until it wasn't.

  I'd been torn from my book's world and stared out across the rooftops of the suburban neighbourhood, doused in the distant lights of the city at evening. A mirage of bangs - gunshots? - had pierced through the night and rendered me more fascinated than the book that lay discarded at my feet. It had gone eerily silent, the hustle and bustle of the city just a faint melody on the wind.

  That tug had returned. It guided me to the ladder of my roof and begged for me to check out whatever made that noise, but I had half a mind to ignore it. Why go towards the shootout? That was colossally dumb.

  When I came to, I found myself speedily walking down the street, hauled forward without my volition.

  This is stupid, and idiotic, and out of your mind, and you're going to die, I told myself. And yet, the tugging on my stomach still pulled me forward. It seemed that I had no choice.

  Was this what puberty's supposed to be like? Did anybody else get an incessant fascination with dangerous situations? Did sex ed fail me? Forget drugs, kids, wanna try street violence? Idiot, idiot, idiot.

  A few blocks down from my place, just at the lip of the industrial section of Ninjago City and sandwiched between the 'retirement suburban blocks' and the docks, was the sound of fighting.

  "Is this really how you want to go out?" I murmured to myself as I stood stupidly in the middle of the deserted street, listening to the sound of grown adults in a fistfight in the adjacent alleyway. The guns must have been taken away, or maybe they were only used as threats. "Died by being caught in the middle of a turf war? What would Dad say?"

  Just as I was about the strangle the tugging sensation behind my belly button and force myself back home, the street where the fight was taking place was suddenly illuminated by a blinding, green light. I stilled, eyes wide.

  It was the Green Ninja fighting a group of people.

  Oh, no. It's the Green Ninja fighting a group of people.

  Realising, finally, just how truly out of my depth I was, I stamped down the urge to get closer with the heel of my foot and turned away - if only to live another day.

  And I came face-to-chest with a big, burly man twice the size of my aforementioned father.

  "Oh," I said lamely, as my eyes crawled up his jacket and landed on his sneering face. My smile was sheepish as I pointed my thumb over my shoulder. "I... I was just looking for the bathroom."

  When he lifted a meaty hand to snatch a combination of Lloyd's hoodie (it was a cold evening, I'm sorry) and the messy ends of my ponytail, I yelped in pain and accepted that my lie was not one to be bought.

  "Hairhairhairhair!"

  He ignored me, of course.

  Great. I am so going to die.

  "Please, don't rip this hoodie," I struggled to get out between pants of pain as I gripped at his wrist. My shoes scraped across the concrete as he dragged me towards the alleyway. "It's - ow, hey! - it's not mine."

  I was, again, ignored.

  What I was, however, was pulled out onto the street. The Green Ninja was in the middle of the fray, clearly overrun, and spitting orders into his comm link.

  "Green Ninja!" the goon holding me boomed, making the fight come to a startling halt. I met the gaze of the stunned ninja and gave the best meek shrug I could. The guy holding me whipped out a rusty knife from his belt and pressed it against my neck, and suddenly my panic-joking mood was gone and instead replaced by just straight panic. "Surrender, or-"

  I stomped down hard on his foot just as a blast of green power knocked him square in the face. He fell like a brick, and I gasped when his slack hand released me.

  "Holy shi-!"

  An arm grabbed me from around the waist and I felt my world tumble over sideways before being pressed to a brick wall. When I regained my bearings and felt only slightly dizzy, I found myself stationed behind the Green Ninja as he faced the half-dozen people, all bulkier and meaner-looking than he.

  "Stay there," he spat.

  "Yes, sir," I whispered.

  He then launched right back into battle and I could only watch in shock. He was an absolute unit, a total fighting machine, and any doubt I had about us getting out alive swiftly dissipated. If his enemies weren't frightened of him, then I was enough for all of us. He was terrifying and fast and bodies were hitting the ground faster than I could count.

  He jumped between the men, so fluid and graceful and deadly. This was who the Green Ninja truly was, not just an awkward man who took my Star Wars plaster, not just the masked face plastered on most teen girls' walls. He was a fighter. A beautiful, brutal fighter.

  When I adjusted my previously frozen stance, my foot hit something. I looked down. A gun, sans magazine. He must've disarmed them all by himself. Holy shit.

  A grunt to my side tore my attention away from the display before me, and I noticed one of the downed men reaching for a gun that lay on the ground and still had its magazine. I stifled my gasp of fear and quickly looked to the Green Ninja, but he was too preoccupied with fending off three men at once to notice.

  "Fuck," I whispered, as I bent down to retrieve the gun at my feet, eyes frantically scanning the ground for its magazine. When I found it, I clicked it into place, raised the gun, and shot.

  The bullet ricocheted against the concrete with a spark, and the man who'd just lifted his own gun dropped it with a cry and a raise of his hands in surrender. He stared at me with wide eyes and I dropped my arms, heart thundering wildly.

  The fight stilled again, and the ringing of the gunshot reverberated behind my eyes. I dropped the weapon with a metallic clatter and my gaze shot to the Green Ninja.

  His eyes were red; a deep, blood-maroon red that startled me and peered into my very soul. I felt my stomach twist with a foreign feeling - fear? Intrigue? I didn't know. It was hard to tell.

  He spun around and landed a punch to one of the men's faces and the fight resumed. It was resolved just as quickly, and I could finally breathe when the last man hit the ground and stayed there. I leaned against the brick wall and tried to regulate my heartbeat, watching as the Green Ninja surveyed the scene with squared shoulders.

  Breathing heavily from exertion and satisfied with his efforts, the Green Ninja crossed his way over to me. He stepped over unconscious bodies as he picked up a discarded sword and slid it back into its hilt on his back. I wilted under his furious glare.

  "What the hell were you thinking?" he snapped. I eyed his movement until his gloved hands began to rest by his side once more. They were still clenched. "You could've been killed!"

  "I see hitting you with my car didn't impede on your skills," I grinned sheepishly. I decided not to mention the red eyes, though they were quite spooky.

  The Green Ninja groaned tiredly and pinched the bridge of his nose. I took the time to gulp nervously and take in our surroundings; listless bodies doting the grimy ground of the street, street lamps flickering and casting eerie shadows.

  "Whatever," he croaked. When he looked at me again, his eyes had returned to their shocking shade of green. "I'm getting you home."

  I felt like a scolded child. My voice was small. "Okay."

  He cast one last look over the scene and sighed, kicking at one of the guns. It went skidding across the concrete, and I bristled, waiting for him to bring up the fact that I knew how to shoot - what was I supposed to tell him? That my father was in a high management position of the military, the same military, by the way, that hated the secret ninja force's guts? That I'd been learning to shoot since I was six?

  It never came, however, as Greenie suddenly stopped and raised his head. I stilled at his stillness. I didn't like the look in his eyes.

  "What is-?"

  "Shhh," he softly hushed, raising a finger to his mask. I waited, holding my breath. His eyes turned to mine. "They had backup. There's more coming."

  "You're kidding," I whispered. My fingers twitched, itching to grab for one of the guns again.

  "Do you get motion sickness?"

  I blanched, face twisting in bewilderment at his odd question. "What has that got anything to do with-?"

  "Too late," he cut me off and strode forward just as the distant sound of boots hitting pavement made it to my ears. I took a step back when he entered my personal space, but I couldn't escape much further than that. He wrapped a tight arm around my waist to yank me into his chest, and my eyes widened.

  "Hold on-!" I squeaked, flustered by the proximity and the warmth of his body. My cry was drowned out by the sudden feeling of being tossed through a tumble dryer and a pop of my ears.

  Green. Everything was green. I would've thought I was lost in an abyss of colour if it weren't for the ninja holding me against himself. I watched, morbidly entranced, as bodies were thrown through this green vortex that had suddenly surrounded us.

  It was like we were in the eye of a storm - everything within was slow and floating, gravity near nonexistent, and so, so green. Greenie handled the goons effortlessly with this advantage, even with one arm being used to keep me tight against him. My hair was floating as if we were in water.

  His feet skidded against the concrete and I felt gravity suddenly return to me. I hit the ground with a stumble and a sharp inhale, staggering if not for the arm still keeping me upright. The green whorls encasing us faded back into nothing.

  Breathing heavily from whatever the fuck that was, I stared at him in shock. He was watching me, probably waiting for a reaction.

  "Oh, my god," I gagged as a sudden onset of nausea backhanded me across the face. He sighed.

  "There it is."

  "World is- spinning-" I choked out as I careened back from him and bent with my head between my knees. He patted my shoulder.

  "You're okay."

  "You did this to me," I accused as I felt my body sway with motion sickness. "Is this revenge?"

  "Yes," he said sarcastically. "Yes, it is. No, of course, it isn't. It was the only move I could think of to get us out of there."

  I narrowed my eyes at him. "Convenient."

  He rolled his eyes. "Drama queen." He held up my arm. "Here, press your thumb to the pressure point in your wrist. It'll help the nausea."

  When the ill feeling subsided, Greenie stepped back from me with a sigh. I slowly straightened and took in the scene - the street was packed with groaning and cursing bodies. The distant sound of sirens pierced through the air.

  He told me to lead the way home, so I did, beginning the trek of shame towards the suburbs with my ninja babysitter.

  "What were you even doing out here?" he asked as he walked beside me. "This is the industrial sector. Nobody should have any good reason to be out here at this hour."

  Surly, I shrugged. I knew that I deserved to be berated for putting myself in danger, but that didn't mean I had to like the telling-off. I burned with shame.

  "I dunno," I mumbled. "I heard a fight."

  I could feel his bewildered, stressed gaze settle on the side of my face. I shoved my chin deeper into Lloyd's hoodie. My eyes burned holes through my shoes.

  "So you went towards the fight?" Upon my nod, he scoffed in disbelief. "You have a death wish!"

  "I know it was stupid, okay?" I stressed, turning my chin to him but not daring to look him in the eyes. "I tried to get myself to turn back, but I just... I couldn't."

  "You couldn't?"

  "I don't know, I couldn't!" I exclaimed. I finally managed to land my stressed gaze on him, silently begging for him to believe my words despite how crazy I knew they sounded. "It was like something was controlling me."

  He fell silent. My gaze drifted back to the concrete beneath my feet.

  "That's... troubling," he finally said. I sighed, shuffling tighter into the hoodie.

  "You're telling me," I murmured. More like the understatement of the century. Even now, my stomach was tugging me sideways. I yanked on the metaphorical chain, but alas, nothing happened.

  "I think I know what you're talking about, though," he spoke up again, and my eyes wandered to his face. "Like this sensation in your gut that's telling you something. Like a sixth sense, or whatever."

  I nodded eagerly. "Yes, that's it!"

  He frowned. A drop of blood dripped down from under the mask over his forehand and my eyes tracked it. "That's still troubling. Even more so, with the weird stuff this city attracts."

  "You're bleeding."

  Greenie glanced at me and furrowed his brow. The line of blood followed the arch of his temple. "What?"

  I pointed at the mirrored spot on my forehead, and he lifted a hand to the edge of his mask in surprise. Sure enough, there was smeared blood on his gloved fingertips. He sighed and began to rifle through one of his waist packs.

  "It's from the-" His green eyes jumped to me before quickly looking back through his pack. "It must've happened during Spinjitsu. Sometimes rocks get caught in the vortex."

  "Oh." My eyes widened in recognition as he pulled out a crumpled Wookie plaster from his pack. "You kept the plaster."

  "Well, he's no Luke Skywalker, but it'll do." He grinned from under his mask.

  He spread the cheap plaster across the gash on his forehead and a lock of blond hair escaped. He pushed it back under his mask, with me watching him owlishly.

  Huh. The Green Ninja had blond hair. Figures. What a Prince Charming.

  The tall buildings merged into the old cottages of the suburban neighbourhoods. Greenie looked around my wider neighbourhood in amusement.

  "You really do live in the retirement section." 

  "My mum wanted a big garden," I reasoned. "Though, she doesn't know how to keep one. Yet. It's a future project, I guess, at least that's what she keeps telling me."

  Greenie chuckled. He purposefully turned his head away, before bringing it back round to me.

  "Nice hoodie. I like the colour."

  "I bet you do," I said dryly. He snickered again. "It's actually my friend's. I borrowed it 'cause Mum made me donate all my warm clothing in the move - but Ninjago City is so much colder than Jamanakai."

  "Oh?"

  "Yeah. He doesn't know I'm wearing it though, so shush," I joked, pressing a finger against my lips.

  His eyes crinkled with warmth. "It'll be our secret."

  "I love big hoodies," I said, now rambling as my adrenaline slowly began to wear off and was instead replaced with the exhilaration of survival. "Big hoodies are the best, y'know? So cosy and comfy. Sometimes I'll wear a big hoodie and pretend that it belongs to my dashing boyfriend." I sent him a cheeky smile. "It's a hopeless romantic thing." 

  It may have been the lighting, but I was pretty sure that the Green Ninja was blushing. Maybe I wasn't the only hopeless romantic out of both of us. Maybe he was thinking about his partner wearing big hoodies and pretending they were his. 

  We ambled in silence for a short while. I peeked at him from the side of my eyes. It was strange - he was pissed off with me mere moments ago, but now we were chatting as if our camaraderie was something more than two just accidental consequences of coincidence. Even stranger was my ease at being able to talk with him. This wasn't normal, especially not for me. 

  The Green Ninja huffed to himself once. "You think your friend's hoodie is good boyfriend material?" 

  "What? No! That'd be so weird. What, I meet this guy once, decide that I like his hoodie, wear it despite how crazy that would make me look, and then go as far as to pretend it's my boyfriend's?" I cleared my throat and stared down the street. "Yeah, that's exactly it." 

  He made a startled sound like something mixed between a laugh and an exclamation of surprise. I stared at him in shock. Avoiding my gaze, he lifted a gloved fist and coughed into it despite his mask. 

  "You're a strange person," he simply said. 

  I closed my eyes and nodded. "My mother says I have the charm of an octopus wearing rollerskates." 

  "I see it's genetic," he grimly commented. "Do you have a strange boyfriend, too?"

  "Is this girl talk?" I asked myself with wide eyes. "Am I having girl talk with the Green Ninja right now?"

  "I guess that's a no," he said amusedly. I shook my head with a soft smile. "You should get one. Maybe he can keep you out of trouble."

  I squinted my eyes at him. "With my luck, I'll accidentally kill him."

  "Can't argue with that," the Green Ninja lamented. "You did almost kill me."

  I smiled before it faded. His amusement simmered.

  "Did I say something?" he asked, all too observant. "I'm sorry."

  "No! No," I quickly reassured. "No, it's just... I don't know. This is weird. I'm usually really bad at making conversation."

  "You're talking just fine to me."

  "You're different," I explained. "You're easy to talk to. Maybe the mask helps?" I slowly frowned to myself. It wasn't just him though, was it? "Well, you and one other person."

  "Really?" he asked. "Who?"

  I glanced up at him. "Do you know Lloyd Garmadon?"

  His green eyes snatched away and stared at the end of the street we were walking down. "... can't say I do."

  "Oh, well, he's the friend," I said, pulling on the sleeve of Lloyd's hoodie. "He's nice and he's so easy to talk to. And, for me, talking to people is difficult. But with him - I guess I just bounce off him really well."

  Greenie hummed. He sounded distracted. We made it to my street and I inwardly sighed with relief - I couldn't wait to crawl into bed and fall asleep. The massive day I had was dragging my energy levels right down to the last drop.

  "This is me," I announced as we stopped outside the quaint little cottage that was my new home. "Thanks for walking me home and making sure I don't trip over thin air. And thanks for saving my life. You know, again."

  "It's what I do." He placed his hands on his hips and gave me the look. "Now, keep out of trouble this time, got it? No more walking towards fights."

  "Oh, but if I keep out of trouble, I won't get to spend time with you!" I pouted. He rolled his eyes, but I swore I saw the tops of his cheeks flush pink.

  "Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "Whatever." His eyes jumped back to mine and I was surprised to see a mischievous glint staring back at me. "You should get more green hoodies. You look good in my colour."

  My face turned bright red. It was my turn to be flustered, and boy, did he do a good job of it. I averted my gaze.

  "You're a tease."

  "Red's not the only one who likes to woo the ladies," the Green Ninja snickered cheekily before swiftly shoving the hood over my head. "See ya!"

  "H- hey!" I cried indignantly as I ripped the hood back off. I pouted at his retreating figure, already ways away down the street.

  "Jerk," I muttered as I turned to walk up my driveway, but found myself smiling, anyway.

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

•• Two Hours Prior ••

  "There you are, Zane!" Jay called as the nindroid passed by the training room. "We were wondering where you went off to. You missed training."

  Zane sent the team, still in the middle of their cooldown from an intense training session, a smile.

  "Apologies, my friends," he said. "I had something important that required my attention."

  Jay's face pulled into a look of confusion, but Zane had already continued down the long hallway before the lightning master or any of the others could ask him what it was that caused him to miss training. Zane never missed training.

  His smile fell as he walked with purpose down the hall, passing through lakes of sunlight on the tatami that pooled from the windows. He pulled up the files in his processor once more, the fruits of his labour - of scouring every inch and speck of dust on the internet that held any bit of relevant information, all tucked neatly away for easy access.

  He perched on the edge of his bed and prepared to do a deep dive, something that could possibly take hours, and readied himself to know every single intimate detail of the girl that had taken Lloyd's fancy.

  This is for Lloyd's sake, Zane reasoned as he opened the files.

  "Okay, Y/n L/n," he murmured to an audience of nobody but himself, the photo of his father on the bedside table, and the massive folder of information. "Let's see who you are."