Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sensei Wu had a strange tradition on the Day of the Departed. He would always leave a small plate of shrimp outside the doors of the Monastery, and would always leave the entrance doors wide open no matter how cold, rainy, or miserable it was outside, then, after that, he would go to a secluded area in the clearing of the Monastery’s training grounds and set up a small shrine with incense sticks, a controlled open flame, and different kinds of flowers, parchments, food, and blank scrolls that he would burn later in the night.

He was honouring his deceased family. 

The first time Lloyd saw this was when his mother was off adventuring some place or another, so he went to bring his Uncle Day of The Departed lanterns so they could light them together. When the Green Ninja slipped through the open doors of the Monastery holding the two lanterns carefully as though he were vases, he found Master Wu sitting cross-legged at the small shrine, parchments of paper burning slowly away in the flames and filling the area with a strange vanilla scent that lingered on Lloyd’s tongue. 

As Lloyd crept closer, he saw four pictures sitting on the mantelpiece surrounded by forget-me-nots, marigold, and anemones in small piles. All the pictures, barring for two, were greyscale and black-and-white, worn down by time, but Lloyd could still recognize their faces. 

One was of a younger version of his father, Garmadon, who was smirking at the camera with the surroundings blurred by whatever motion was going on in the background. The second and third ones were more paintings than photos, as they were on canvases and were coated with thick brushstrokes of colourful paint. The second was of an aged man with his face covered by his bamboo hat and a beard braided and reaching past the frame—The First Spinjitzu Master, no doubt—and the third was a carefully painted portrait of what seemed to be a younger version of Wu and Garmadon standing by their father’s sides.

But the fourth.

The fourth was of a boy grinning at the camera, many of his teeth missing and his dark eyes happy. His hair was black and had lighter streaks in it, and, even though the colour of the picture were shades of warm grey, Lloyd could tell that it was Morro. So, wordlessly, he turned and left, already feeling the familiar emotions bubbling up in his throat and the suppressed memories from the past. He had never visited his Uncle on the Day of the Departed ever since, resentful towards him for mourning the man who had possessed and traumatised him and almost destroyed every single realm in the universe. Morro had abandoned Wu, had ran away to cause evil, and his Uncle was still mourning him? Lloyd didn’t understand!

At least, he hadn’t. Not until Arin and Sora showed up.

Lloyd wasn’t sure when those two little weasels weaved their ways into his heart, but they did, and overtime, he stopped thinking of the two children as students, but rather as…family. He grew protective. He grew worried and anxious and couldn’t sleep properly until he made sure that Sora and Arin were safe. Lloyd quickly developed love for the two children, and with the love came an overwhelming sense of dread whenever his kids did anything remotely dangerous. He was rather stubborn in admitting it at first, but eventually he did. Sora and Arin were his kids now, and he would do anything to protect them.

But that wasn’t enough.

Lloyd remembered the fear he had felt when he saw Arin running after Ras, screaming that he ‘needed him’. He and Sora gave chase, the oni in Lloyd screaming against the bars of its cage, yelling to be let out.

Maybe if Lloyd had let it, Arin wouldn’t have gotten lost.

It was at that moment when he finally understood his uncle, why he clung onto the memory of Morro, even when every ounce of goodness in his heart had been almost completely washed away and corrupted by the Preeminent. 

Lloyd remembered when he was being possessed by Morro as though it had happened just the day before. How could he? It was arguably the most traumatising experience he had been through, but when he replayed the scene of Arin running away over and over again in his mind every day after it happened, he also saw Morro’s memory. How the boy, with a hastily packed bag strung over his shoulder, stormed down the steps of the monastery, ignoring the calls of his father and the tears of anger and disappointment stinging his dulled eyes, and Lloyd always felt his murdered heart sink lower and lower in him every single time he thought ‘Was Arin on the same path as Morro?’

Was Arin going to become an echo of Morro? Angry and resentful with no sense of right and wrong?

No, Lloyd wouldn’t let that happen.

It had been two weeks since Arin ran away, and every day Lloyd itched to search for him, but they had agreed to wait at least three weeks before they could look for him—just in case he came back. Lloyd knew he wouldn’t, but he reluctantly agreed. Now it was the Day of the Departed, such an ironic day, and the dragononi found himself unconsciously following Sensei Wu’s ritual. He baked one of Arin’s pies, something that would never taste like his son’s, and put it on the steps of the monastery in the plate-shaped marks scarred from his uncle’s annual tradition. He gathered many flowers and set up a shrine dedicated to his uncle, his father, and his son.

Lloyd sat down tiredly in front of the pristine shrine, his radioactive green eyes dulled with grief lingering on the beaming picture of Arin side-by-side with Sora. That was on one of their first days living with Lloyd.

“Lloyd?”

The Green Ninja jerked out of his thoughts and followed the voice. Sora was standing in the doorway leading into the main building, her eyes bloodshot and red and her face stained with lamentation and tears. Lloyd’s heart ached at the way she clung onto one of Arin’s old hoodies like a lifeline. 

“Hey, Sora.” He said softly. “What’s up?”

“Can I, uh, sit with you for a bit?”

Before Lloyd had even finished nodding, his daughter was already at his side, seated in front of Arin’s picture with Lloyd. She leaned heavily against him, clearly swallowing back her sobs. They sat in silence for a while, the feeling of Sora’s trembling body next to him grounding Lloyd from his disturbed and agonized thoughts. He hated seeing her this upset.

Finally, Sora spoke again, her voice cutting through the deflated silence like a knife through butter. 

“Are we gonna find him?”

Although her words were soft, they seemed to fracture the fragile peace Lloyd had somehow managed to find in the turmoil of his mind. He exhaled sharply and closed his eyes. Lloyd didn’t know.

He wrapped an arm around his found daughter and pulled her close. “We will.” He said, although his falsely positive words held no strong confidence in them. 

As they sat there in the quiet night illuminated with celebrations down in the merged lands, Lloyd couldn’t help but wonder, as he stared at the pictures of his son and his uncle, if Wu was watching over them, and if he was, Lloyd desperately wished for advice in this recurring family trait of sons running away.

He understood his uncle’s strange tradition, something he had longed to for years, but now he wished he didn’t.