Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Princess, you still aren’t packed? Please hurry up, we must leave soon. It’s not becoming for a princess to be so lazy.

As soon as Hutchins slid her door shut, she let out a frustrated groan, hurling a pillow in his direction. It smacked into the screen with some force, causing it to wobble a little.

If only they knew how she was spending her time. They would never call her a lazy slob again – would never look down on her, ever again. Hatred bubbled in the pit of her stomach, drawing a scowl onto her lips.

Harumi glared at her reflection in the mirror, at her layers of cakey white foundation and ruby lipstick. At layers of deceit and disguise. Her blood boiled so hot, she almost expected her gaze to crack the glass.

After countless hours upon hours of smiling gracefully, speaking gently, and lifting her chin until her neck ached, there was something cathartic about seeing her wretched posture and contemptible gaze. Seeing the real her.

She slammed the book in front of her shut and tossed it to the side, letting it join other countless volumes strewn across the floor. Maybe they were the one good thing about being a princess; unlimited access to the royal library and all its secrets was the only thing keeping her dreams afloat.

My work is here, in Ninjago City. I have books to read, connections to make, training to do. What the hell am I going to do in Shintaro?

Maybe, in another life, she would’ve dreamed about visiting the legendary kingdom. She would’ve raved to her parents about flying people and gold spires and ivory buildings, or drawn pictures of it in her sketchbook, or read about it in fairy tales. There was something about already being a princess that just sucked the magic right out of it.

Harumi unscrewed the lid of her face paint, grabbing a brush from off her mantle. The empress used to insist on doing this for her, because she always had to look just right. She would make conversation, throwing in a couple jokes or telling stories as she painstakingly dragged the cold paint over her eyelids. After a couple weeks of being silent, Harumi eventually played along, laughing at her jokes and responding to her questions.

But all she could think was that it should’ve been her mother there, teaching her how to use makeup.

Even now, as she swirled the stained tip of the brush around the tin, her heart ached for them. Maybe she would’ve cried, if she hadn’t already grieved them a million times over. Besides, she knew better than to let her makeup run.

Each stroke was practiced and precise, a routine she’d run through a thousand times. She hated all of it. She hated the stupid, plaster-white paint that clogged her pores. She hated the clownish red blots on her cheeks. She hated the perfectly fake smile that automatically greeted her when she was finished.

She looked like someone she wasn’t. Someone she was never supposed to be.

The suitcases that Hutchins had set out for her lay bare at the base of her bed. After rifling through her closet and dresser, she tossed an armful of dresses and some more casual clothes into the biggest one. You would think being a princess would mean a more extensive wardrobe, she thought, shoving down the sea of green. 

She had never liked green all that much to begin with, but looking at it now made her throat taste of bile. Wearing it over and over again had only deepened her dislike for it, and it didn’t help that it always served to remind her of that day.

The legendary green ninja, supposed savior of Ninjago, miserably failing to defeat the Great Devourer. The great Chosen One who had been so pathetic, so useless, that the Lord of all evil had to swoop in to save the day. And yet, all of Ninjago still worshipped at his feet as though they had forgotten the death tolls. There had even been whispers that he was the one who released the Serpentine from their tombs in the first place – and everyone just seemed to ignore it? 

Harumi hadn’t forgotten or ignored any of it. Every time she slipped on a green robe, a green jacket, or a green dress, a black bitterness ate at her heart. It felt so stupid, so childish to hold a grudge against a color, but she couldn’t help it. It’s not as though she had friends to rant to about it.

Something the emperor had suggested flashed through her mind. Maybe you can make friends with the princess of Shintaro. 

The thought brought up muddled emotions. What could she possibly find in common with a real, full-blooded princess of a magical land? Some snooty, stuck-up brat who’d jut out her chin at Harumi in an instant. But when was the last time she’d talked to a girl her age and had a normal conversation? How many times had she begged the emperor and empress to go visit her old friends from school, only to be scorned?

She threw a fistful of socks and underwear in the suitcase and slammed it shut, pulling an empty one towards her. If I’m being forced to go on this trip, I might as well make the most of it, she mused as she put a musty stack of books and scrolls in. And having connections in Shintaro certainly wouldn’t hurt.

All I have to do is bear it, keep my chin up, and smile. That’s all I’ve been doing for years and years. What’s another week, in my grand scheme?

She caught a glimpse of her reflection, no longer hunched and wrathful, nor stiff and poised. For a moment, she looked confident and self-assured. Like a leader. Like someone her parents would be proud of.She would make them proud. She would avenge their deaths and bring Ninjago peace, even if it cost her everything. That’s what a good leader would do.

-------------------------------

“Finally,” the emperor sighed as Harumi dragged her luggage to the entrance. “Leave it, the servants can handle it.”

She swallowed a huff and nodded, setting it on the ground. A couple servants immediately grabbed her suitcases and hustled them outside.

“It’s difficult to maintain good impressions with other nations if we can’t even show up on time,” the empress scolded her gently, imperious in her green-and-gray robes.

Yeah, and your wrinkles are still showing through your thirty layers of makeup, Harumi couldn’t help but snap to herself. With the amount of retorts she’d bit back over the years, she might as well have changed her title to The Patient One.

“I’m sorry,” she ground out instead. “I’ll do better.”

“It’s alright, dear,” the empress gently laid her hand on Harumi’s shoulder. “Just something to remember for future reference. One day, all of this will come naturally to you.”

Harumi smiled and nodded, looking just above the empress’ gaze. It always felt like she was trying to make eye contact with a stranger; her vision couldn’t help but stray.

“We mustn’t waste any more time,” the emperor interrupted, beckoning her and his wife to the door. “Invitations to Shintaro can happen once in a lifetime, and I’d hate to make King Vangelis wait any longer.”

The empress put her arm around Harumi and ushered her out of the palace. Harumi sighed, casting her gaze to the ground and lifting her skirts over the stairs.

Chapter Text

The flight was awkward and tedious. The emperor and empress had secured a private jet and were engaged in long, boring discussions about current events and politics. She saw no point in such discussions; the royal family had no power to make change at all. This “diplomatic mission” was just an excuse for a vacation.

Harumi tried to keep busy, thumbing through the history books she brought and staring out the window. One of the books she had brought mentioned a range of beautiful, snow-covered mountains, but all she could see was a sea of clouds. There was also a mention of an extremely dangerous species of bat, said to be enormous and aggressive. Every time the jet experienced some turbulence, she couldn’t help but grip onto her armrests a little tighter. Otherwise, the journey was surprisingly calm.

Whenever her focus drifted from her books, she tuned in to what her adoptive parents were saying. Occasionally, they would mention that the Ninja had just saved the city again or the Ninja were becoming famous, and she would turn her face to conceal her hatred.

Hutchins and his small posse of guards sat in the back of the jet, chatting and joking with one another. It was strange seeing them out of their usual element; they almost seemed like real people. Almost, not quite. They were still brainless pawns, toy soldiers in the emperor’s slippery hands.

When the jet finally landed, a couple servants rushed over to her with a mirror and a variety of brushes, fussing over her makeup. Harumi let them, knowing better than to fight back.

“Are you nervous, Princess?” The servant holding the mirror asked. There was a brightness in her face, the glow of someone who’d never known hardship. “Or more excited, maybe?”

“Oh, a little of both,” Harumi said lightly. “I just hope our families will get along.”

The servant touching up her makeup smiled, leaning in a little too close for comfort. “How very decent of you, Princess.”

Harumi offered a smile in return, her hands fidgeting in her lap. This was all a waste of time. Getting dolled up to just twiddle her thumbs in another palace all day, far from a place where she could make any real progress.

Connections, remember. Connections. Don’t be idle. Be active.

“Okay, I think I’m good,” Harumi waved the servants away. She shoved all her things back into her suitcase and got to her feet, walking towards the door.

The emperor laid a hand on her shoulder, his grip gentle yet firm. She bit back a groan and met his gaze with another smile.

“Rumi,” he said, his voice only just bordering on condescending. “It would be best if you let your mother and I do all of the talking.”

She couldn’t help but bristle a little bit. “What? Why?”

“The Sky Folk are a… reclusive people. You are not yet experienced in these sorts of things. It would be beneficial for us if you kept to yourself, at least for now.” He ushered Hutchins and the others to exit first, dragging their luggage behind him.

“I… understand,” she inclined her head, swallowing her disdain. What would you know about politics or diplomacy? About negotiation and power? This family is nothing but a lineage of frauds. “I will do my duty.”

“That’s our girl,” the empress fastened a lotus-patterned white cape around Harumi’s neck. “We know you’re perfectly capable. You’ll be taking care of all of these affairs on your own, someday.”

The thought was sickening. Living in the palace for the rest of her life, commanding every servant and soldier, having to marry some stuck-up man and bear his children… having to live a lie for decades to come. No, that would never happen.

Disgust roiling just under her skin, she forced yet another smile. “Yes, someday. I will do my best to uphold our family’s honor.”

Her words won her a pair of approving gazes – the right expressions from the wrong people. Looking up into their worn, benign faces, Harumi almost expected to feel something warm. Something that said, maybe you could learn to love them the way they’re learning to love you. 

Instead, she felt almost completely indifferent. Any approval or pride she ever wrested out of them had always rung hollow. They only think they love me, she thought bitterly as they turned to leave. They only love what they want me to be. A figurehead, just like them. What’s the point of being complacent when you could have real power? Power to actually keep Ninjago safe?

She followed them out of the jet, tugging at the cape as it dug into her collar. The wrong people have the power to do good. The Ninja, always fumbling over themselves, only barely saving the world at every turn. The Royal Family, parading around their throne room as if they ever lifted a finger to do anything in times of crisis.

It’s all about incompetence. No one sees the root of the problem – they only see the Ninja hacking at the branches.

The people deserve someone who will uproot it all, and rule Ninjago with an iron fist. We have suffered enough from negligent leaders. 

And there’s only one person powerful enough to keep everyone safe.

Lost in thought, Harumi almost didn’t notice the Ivory City until it practically blinded her. Her breath caught as she took in the sight, her jaw falling open slightly.

The city gleamed in the sunlight, as though every building had been hand-polished to perfection. Some of the buildings were round, like a scattered necklace of pearls, while some had golden spires that pierced the sky. It was beyond the modern landscape of Ninjago City, or the quaint villages scattered across Ninjago; it was otherworldly, like a piece of heaven had fallen to earth. A blanket of clouds lay in the distance – they were still this high up? How was breathing even possible here?

Maybe that was part of why Shintaro was described as so breathtaking; historians had genuinely struggled to breathe at all. Harumi dropped her gaze back to the ground, hurrying down the stairs to meet the others.

An entourage of guards in golden armor armed with decorative-looking spears stood at attention at the foot of the jet. Long, gold tendrils of some sort billowed out from behind them – were those their wings? They didn't look like how she'd expected them to. Harumi took her place to the left of the emperor, trying to blink the bright spots out of her eyes. All this gold and glister was giving her a headache after the long, dull journey.

“Greetings, Royal Family of Ninjago,” one of the guards stepped forward, looking more authoritative than the others. His helmet was larger, and wore more golden armor that jutted out from his shoulders. “I am Hailmar, leader of the Army of Shintaro. King Vangelis welcomes you to the Kingdom of Shintaro.”

Chapter Text

The doors to the palace swung open, Hailmar and his guards leading the way. The gold tendrils on their back were in fact their wings, flowing in the air as though carried by an ocean’s currents. They glided through the air almost effortlessly. 

“It is with great honor, King Vangelis, to present the Emperor and Empress of Ninjago, their daughter, the Jade Princess Harumi, and their entourage,” Hailmar announced, flying to the large throne at the center of the room. A man with dark hair, dressed in blue-and-white finery, sat on a marble throne that was elevated several feet above the ground. Blue carpets ran down opposite sides of it like waterfalls, spilling out across the rest of the giant throne room.

“Welcome, everyone!” The man – King Vangelis, apparently – called out welcomingly, getting to his feet. The emperor and empress smiled and bowed formally, Harumi following suit. As she did, she noticed a girl about her age standing to the right of the throne. She had dark blonde hair, almost the same color and luster of the gold that decorated the hall. She caught Harumi’s eye and beamed, giving a small wave. Harumi’s hand twitched, almost reflexively waving back before she caught herself. That must be the princess, she thought as she lifted her head again, flashing a small, close-lipped smile in the other girl’s direction.

“It is our honor to welcome you to the Kingdom of Shintaro,” Vangelis glided down to their level, also bowing his head. “Mine, and my daughter’s – Her Royal Princess Vania.”

The girl stepped forward, taking her place next to her father. “It is so great to meet you,” she said excitedly, her hands clasped in front of her. “We have been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

Harumi frowned, glancing at Vangelis to gauge his reaction, but saw no anger in his eyes. No disapproval. Hmm.

“We hope the journey wasn’t too rough,” Vangelis held out his hand to the emperor, who shook it. “We are an isolated people, but it is good to maintain good relations with…” at that, Harumi lost interest in the conversation. Well, if they want me to shut up and stay still, I’ll shut up and stay still. If I wasn’t here, nothing would change. What a load of nonsense this all is. Tiptoeing around every little thing they say, running circles around the topic like a bunch of crazed chickens–

“Hey,” a whisper cut through Harumi’s stream of thoughts. 

She blinked, glancing up from the ground. Vania was standing in front of her, dressed in flowy blue and white silks embroidered with cloud patterns. A wide grin stretched across her face, and she was practically bouncing on her toes.

Harumi glanced at her adoptive parents, who were still engaged in conversation with Vangelis and not paying a lick of attention to their daughters. “Hello,” she replied cautiously. I can’t just not talk to her. “It’s very nice to meet you, Princess.” Formality had never come easy to her; floundering around in courtly situations always made her feel like an outsider. Well, I am. I wasn’t born a princess.

Well, this Vania probably was. And she’s not acting like a princess at all.

“Can I just say, I love your makeup? And your dress! It must take forever for you to get ready,” Vania gushed, clasping her hands together again. “Green is such a lovely color. I wish I owned more of it – most of my clothes are just white and blue. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they’re pretty, but I wish I could switch it up a little sometimes, you know?”

Harumi blinked, trying to process the onslaught of blabber. “Oh, um, yeah,” she said awkwardly. “I feel the same way, except the opposite. Most of my wardrobe is green.” And I hardly find it lovely.

Vania nodded. “That makes sense. You’re the Jade Princess, after all. That’s such a cool name! I wish I had one of those. Like, the Ivory Princess. That would be cool, right? Then we could match!” She was constantly fidgeting, shifting her weight and gesturing with her hands. Her casual nature only made Harumi feel even stiffer, even more rigid.

“Vania,” Vangelis suddenly addressed his daughter. She turned, and Harumi caught a quick look of worry flash across her face. His expression was still warm, though, not holding an ounce of dissatisfaction. “I have much to discuss with the Emperor and Empress. Would you mind showing Princess Harumi to her room?”

“Of course, Father!” Vania exhaled, her beaming smile returning to her face. “This way,” she waved at Harumi to follow her, a small skip in her step. 

Harumi lifted her skirts, trying her best to keep up in her heels. Definitely not the snooty, stuck-up little girl I was expecting her to be, she thought. I suppose that’s some consolation… though I doubt making a connection with her will help with my plans.

“Um, would you mind slowing down?” She called out to the bubbly princess, who slowed her pace. Aren’t I living proof that you can’t judge a book by its cover? She pointed out to herself. She could be hiding something, too.

“Sorry, sorry!” Vania laughed as Harumi caught up to her. “I’m just so excited! We never have visitors. Well, sometimes we do, but they never stay for very long. And most of them are old or scary-looking.”

They turned out of the throne room and began climbing a tall staircase. How good of them to accommodate us non-fliers, she thought dryly. Wait. She glanced at Vania and her lack of wings. “You… um…”

“Sorry, what was that?” Vania turned her head.

Is this a rude question? Do I really care if it’s a rude question? “I don’t mean to be insensitive, or anything, but… why don’t you have wings?” Harumi asked hesitantly.

“Oh, that! No, it’s not insensitive. The wings are detachable,” Vania explained. “They’re not actually a part of us! They’re just nice for transportation and such. So much easier than walking! Not that anything’s wrong with walking. It’s nice to take your time sometimes.”

This girl talks entirely too much, Harumi thought, starting to feel her headache return. If I’m the Quiet One, then she’s the Noisy One.

Still, it had been much too long since she felt like she could speak somewhat freely. It almost reminded her of when she was in school, chatting about useless things like homework and boys.

Vania’s hands fidgeted in front of her. The clacking of Harumi’s heels echoed loudly in the hall, doing nothing to break the sudden awkwardness between them.

“So,” Vania started. “What do you think about Shintaro so far?”

“Oh, it’s gorgeous,” Harumi said earnestly. “This place makes Ninjago City look so dull.”

“What is Ninjago City like?” Vania was back to being eager. “All of our texts are from a bajillion years ago. You guys can’t possibly still be living in straw houses, right? I mean, you definitely don’t look like you’d live in a straw house. You have a palace, like this one, I’m sure.”

“Yes, I live in a palace,” she fought to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “It’s different from here, though. A lot… darker. Maybe bigger, and… lonelier, to be honest.”

“Oh,” Vania’s cheeriness was gone. “I’m sorry about that. It can be lonely here, too.” 

Harumi kept her gaze focused ahead, taking one stair at a time. Are you an idiot? She chastised herself. Keep your guard up. You can’t let up on the act just because she seems nice. You don’t know this girl.

If Vania really is this cheerful and innocent at her core, then she does not want to know the real me. She’s like my servants – never known hardship. That sickly bitter feeling began welling back up in her stomach. Never known what it’s like to have your heart torn to shreds, your world ripped apart in front of your eyes, have to face world-shattering calamities every year…

At least I reforged myself, Harumi thought firmly. I will create real change. I must never doubt my resolve, not even for a moment.

Her gaze shifted back to Vania, who was humming to herself as she turned down a different corridor. She’s real, authentic royalty. One day, she’ll become a queen and command her subjects. What does it matter, though? Shintaro is so isolated. They never have to worry about armies of snakes, or stone warriors, or robots, or ghosts…

She scowled to herself. It was easy to lose herself in her rancor, especially when it brought back unpleasant memories. Watching from her balcony as the streets were terrorized again and again. Watching darkness consume the land, buildings topple, civilians trampled under each other as they scrambled to escape… it made her feel so helpless. And all the while, the emperor and empress would order their guards to protect them instead of taking a single step outside to help the people.

Hypocrisy runs rampant, Harumi thought resentfully. Wanting the best for the people, while actively refusing to help them. Standing there, with the power to do good, but choosing to be incompetent. Claiming to be heroes, but letting hundreds of people die as they joke and quip their way to victory.

Power is wasted on the undeserving, Harumi took a long glance at Vania. How am I the only person who can see that? Or am I just the only person who wants to act on it?

“Are you alright?” Vania was studying her face with an odd expression. “You look… angry.”

Harumi realized she had a deep-set scowl still etched on her face and immediately switched to her default smile. “Oh, yeah,” she tried to put some affability into her voice. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought. You weren’t, um, saying anything, were you?”

“No, you’re all good,” Vania smiled back. “Don’t worry about it.”

I can’t be careless anymore, Harumi absently tugged at the edges of her cape. Come on, Harumi. Be nice. Make connections. Put your lies to good use.

Straightening her back and squaring her shoulders, she pushed her hatred aside and continued following Vania through the palace corridors.

Chapter Text

“Thank you, you can set those down anywhere,” Harumi said to the servants carrying her luggage. The room she was staying in felt ridiculously luxurious – and coming from a princess, that was saying something. Long, narrow windows stretched from the floor to the ceiling, bathing the room in sunlight. The bed looked temptingly lavish, draped in a canopy suspended from four columns at each corner. Back home, they usually have me sleep on one of those mats, she thought. I haven’t slept on a real bed in ages.

Not home, she caught herself. The palace isn’t my home.

Separating the two terms was essential. She couldn’t get attached to the palace, or the emperor and empress, or anything at all. My resolve can’t bend, not even a little, she reminded herself firmly. I have to tear all of it down.

Her servants bowed and left, presumably to their own rooms. I don’t even know their names, she realized. And I’ve never bothered asking. Do I care whether they live or die, too? The possibility floated around in her ribcage, difficult to get a handle on. Her mind felt blank, devoid of thought or feeling. I guess I don’t. And that’s for the best.

But they’re innocent people, like I was. Citizens of Ninjago. My people. Not caring if they live or die makes me no better than the ninja.

Furrowing her brow in frustration, Harumi rubbed her forehead and undoubtedly smeared makeup all over her fingers. She took a seat on the cushioned bench in front of her bed. Ugh, this headache. I’m not thinking properly.

“All moved in?”

And it’s only going to get worse.

Harumi turned to Vania, smiling gently. “Yes. I can’t thank you or your father enough for your hospitality. All of this,” she gestured at her gold-and-ivory surroundings, “is beyond anything I could have ever imagined.”

Vania took a seat next to her, at a distance just far enough to still seem formal. “Of course! You’re an honored guest here, and these rooms don’t get enough use. If there’s anything missing, or if there’s anything you need at all, don’t be afraid at all to ask!”

“That’s very kind,” Harumi clasped her hands in her lap awkwardly. White powder smudged her fingertips, drawing a sigh from her lips.

“Oh, here,” Vania fished a handkerchief from the folds of her dress and held it out to her.

Harumi blinked. “Thank you,” she took it and began wiping the makeup off her fingers.

“I might’ve said this already, but your makeup looks so cool. So unique! Do all the women in your land wear makeup like that?”

Don’t be ridiculous, was her first instinctual response, but she pushed it aside. Shintaro was isolated, after all. It wasn’t a ridiculous question to Vania. “No, just the empress and I,” she said. “It’s traditional in the family… I think. I’m not actually too familiar with the royal family’s history, or this style of makeup,” she admitted, laying the handkerchief on the bench. I’ve been researching less useless topics. 

The emperor and empress had tried relentlessly to engrain their family history into her mind, but she’d stubbornly refused to let any of it stick.

“How can you not be familiar?” Vania tilted her head. “My father has me engage thoroughly in my country’s history, even from a young age. Though, I suppose there’s not much else to learn about in an isolated nation.”

Harumi hesitated, feeling defensive. Should I tell her? Maybe it’ll shut her up. Or maybe it’ll make her even more curious. “Well… the emperor and empress aren’t my birth parents. I was adopted into the family a few years ago, after the death of my mom and dad.”

Vania’s smile slid off her face, a solemn expression replacing it. “That must’ve been hard,” she said quietly, after a moment. “Adjusting to a life like this.”

Her words, despite being simple, lanced straight through Harumi’s heart. “Yeah,” she said lamely, blinking away tears before they could form. “I mean, yeah. It still feels kind of surreal, to be honest.”

And why am I being honest? She snapped to herself, biting down on her tongue before she could say anything more. Pull yourself together.

The pain should have faded over the years, but it felt like she was reliving that fateful day over and over again. She missed them dearly. She missed her mother’s fingers threading through her hair, gently pulling it into braids. She missed her father reading to her every night, softly lulling her to sleep. She missed their tiny, cozy little apartment that her parents always complained about. Her parents had called it cramped, but she would trade every room in the palace to have it again. The whole apartment was likely no bigger than this bedroom, she thought bitterly. Would her parents even recognize her if they saw her now? Or would they say, look at that beautiful princess, with her finery and fancy clothes. How haughty and conceited she looks. She couldn’t possibly be our little girl –

“Um, anyway,” Vania’s voice, edged with nervousness, interrupted her thoughts. “I’ve been meaning to ask from the start…”

“Hm?” Harumi blinked and looked up, the haze of self-pity vanishing. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Oh, sorry, I was just wondering… y’know, like your makeup and stuff isn’t normal for people of Ninjago. Is your hair also not normal? It’s very beautiful, of course, but I was… just wondering, sorry. I’m asking too many questions, aren’t I?”

No, no, it’s okay,” Harumi said with a smile. It didn’t feel forced this time. “It’s alright to be curious. No, my hair wasn’t always this color. Apparently, it’s some kind of tradition in the royal family for the women to bleach their hair.” She pulled a lock out from the confines of her crown and absent-mindedly twirled it in her fingers. It glinted in the sun, like the silk threads of a spiderweb. With the amount of mistreatment her hair had gone through, all the brushing, bleaching, and styling it had withstood, it was a miracle it hadn’t all fallen out. “It used to be blonde. Not like yours, though. Like a lighter, duller… about the color of Lloyd’s,” she winced as soon as the name left her lips. Comparing herself to him felt like rancid, like she’d just compared herself to a naked mole rat.

“Lloyd’s?” Vania echoed. “Am I… supposed to know who that is?”

Great. “Oh, I’m not sure,” Harumi poured as much sweetness into her voice as she could muster. “You haven’t heard of the legendary Green Ninja?”

“Ninja…” Vania started to untwist her updo, her face suddenly lighting up. “Oh, you mean the ninja! The heroes of Ninjago, yes, I’ve heard about them. Some stories get out here, but the details are always so blurry. But you’re from Ninjago City, so you probably hear all about them!”

“Yeah, I do,” Harumi felt the corners of her mouth begin to twitch. “In fact, they’re all I seem to hear about.”

“Oh, wow!” Vania clapped her hands, her golden hair cascading down her shoulders. “Would you mind telling me more about them? I’ve always been so curious! Is it true that one of them’s a robot? Is the Green Ninja really the son of Lord Garmadon? Do they really have elemental powers?”

Harumi had to resist the urge to get up and kick the overly inquisitive princess through one of the massive windows. Blood boiled just under her skin and heat flashed under her thick robes, but when she met Vania’s gaze, she prayed her face was as composed as she thought it was. “I would love to, but it’s been a long journey. I’d like to get some rest, so… maybe tomorrow, I could tell you all about them?”

Vania’s shoulders sank a little bit, but she didn’t look upset. “Right, of course! I’m sorry if I’ve been a bother. We have plenty of time to talk later, I just got so swept up in all this excitement. Rest well, I’ll meet you for breakfast tomorrow morning!”

“Okay,” Harumi stood up as Vania began walking to the door. “It was so nice to meet you, Princess Vania,” she said, bowing her head in acknowledgement.

“The pleasure was mine, Princess Harumi,” Vania turned and offered a final wave. “I’ll attend to your guards and servants for you, help them get settled in. Don’t worry about a thing!”

“Thank you so much,” Harumi smiled, feeling somewhat touched despite the rage still churning in her chest.

Vania closed the doors shut behind her, and a lingering silence finally fell upon the room. Harumi balled her fists at her side, inhaling and exhaling steadily as she listened to the princess’ footsteps fade away.

A guttural screech ripped its way out of her throat, and she kicked her suitcase as hard as she could. It fell over with a sad thump, making her feel even worse.

She frustratedly cupped her face in her hands, rubbing it with her hands until they fell limply against her dress. She glanced up at the mirror, almost afraid of what she was gonna see.

Harumi looked like a mess. Stray strands of hair stuck out in every direction, threatening to escape her bun. Her red face paint was smeared all across her eyes and mouth, and streaked down both of her cheeks. I look insane, she grimaced, lifting her crown off of her head and pulling her bun out. Her temples seemed to cry out in relief as her hair spilled down over her shoulders. I really do need rest. I can get my head on straight tomorrow.

She set her crown on the dresser and sighed, all anger finally draining from her body. All that was left was fatigue. I should get cleaned up, she thought, turning to the door. Hopefully there’s a washroom nearby.

And hopefully I don’t run into anybody on the way. The emperor and empress would never let me forget how I disparaged their family name by walking around with smeared makeup.

She may have been exhausted, but bitterness always seemed to coat her insides like tar, viscous and thick. Ever-present, never-changing.

Chapter Text

She remembered the days after the Overlord’s attack, after darkness coated the sky and terror reigned across the city. Part of Harumi had wanted to watch, to see what was going on, but she didn’t complain when the emperor and empress had dragged her into the tunnels. The passages under the palace were gloomy and oppressive, not much different from the rest of the palace, but they kept her safe as murky clouds of ink descended from the sky.

After the danger had passed, her family had thrown their resources into helping rebuild the city and invest in new infrastructure. Harumi, having been confined to the palace, had spent most of her time shut in her room. Hutchins would knock at her door every so often, asking if she needed anything. She always sent him away.

Eating and drinking was a chore. Her frame grew thinner and thinner, and she had already been a slip of a girl. Sometimes, Hutchins or one of her maidservants would bring her plates of food from the royal buffet, but they always sat at her dresser until someone took them away. One day, Hutchins opened her door and kneeled by her bed with a severe expression.

“There are people who would be lucky to eat like this,” he had said sternly as she sat criss-cross on her mattress, her gaze on the floor. “There are people in this city who can’t eat at all.”

Tears started to pool in her eyes, though she wasn’t sure why. Was it guilt? Was it from the reprimanding? Was it from anything at all?

When Hutchins left a platter of rice and chicken by her pillow that night, she choked it down bite by bite and left the empty plate by the door. It only made her stomach feel even more hollow.

She drank small sips of water at a time, but would still end up leaning over the side of her balcony and vomiting up whatever she ate. At night, dry sobs wracked her chest and kept her gasping for air. Hutchins, patrolling the hallways at night, would sometimes hear and try to help her sleep. His voice had been rough and gravelly, but strangely gentle. The lullaby, however, felt sinister and unnerving, and the most it did was keep her mind off of her parents.

During the day, she would lie in bed and write in her journal, or sit on her balcony and look out over the city. When she found it in her to turn on the radio, her room was flooded with the heroic escapades of the Ninja, their noble deeds, their instrumental help in the cleanup of the city… her bitterness and loathing had stewed inside her, growing with every pen stroke she made in her diary.

Sometimes, a lucky newscaster would manage to get a ninja to comment on current events. Harumi couldn’t stand to hear their grating, irritably cheerful voices for more than a few seconds, so she’d switch channels to some trashy song she’d usually despise and crank it up to drown out her thoughts.

She hated everything. She hated the emperor and empress, who looked down their noses at her – that is, if they even bothered to check on her. She hated Hutchins, who prowled the hallways like a bad-tempered dog. She hated all the servants, who never could look her in the eye and hold a smile for too long.

She wished she never appeared on those stupid news stations. She wished she hadn’t been the “lucky one,” like her fate had been pulled out of a fairy tale. It was all a big joke.

She would’ve rather her parents been anybody else.

“Princess?” A saccharine, cloyingly nice voice called out, followed by a light tap on the door.

It was a servant, one whose voice Harumi didn’t recognize. She sat up in her bed with difficulty, her joints creaking and aching. “Yes?” Her voice came out hoarse. She cleared her throat. “Yes?”

“The newspaper is here, if you’d still like it,” the door slid open a couple inches, and a thick roll of paper was placed on the ground. “Though, the emperor and empress would like it if you came out sooner or later.”

She merely scowled and said nothing, stumbling to her feet. Her bones felt brittle and hollow as shambled across her room and shut the door on the servant. She bent down and pulled the coarse yarn off the newspaper, tossing it to the ground. News articles and radio networks felt like her only connections to the world, even if some of the content made her tear the paper to shreds out of anger.

The front page always had some awful, pointless spoof about the Ninja, or boring updates on the state of rebuilding. Ninjago is so large and mysterious, but it’s always Ninja this, Ninja that, she had thought irritably as she unrolled the newspaper. That time, however, her heart almost stopped in her chest.

From Darkness to Light, the headline read. A picture of Wu, Misako, and an unfamiliar man stood near each other, bearing neutral expressions. Who was the other man? Next to the picture, the caption read… Garmadon?

That can’t be right, Harumi had thought, her lips parted with disbelief. He looked like a normal person – two arms, non-charred skin, grey hair…

She gripped the paper with two hands, scanning the article furiously. Great Devourer… Overlord… spread peace? Teaching? No equipment?

Harumi scoffed and tossed the newspaper across her room. Gayle Gossip churned out nothing but slop in every article. Garmadon, the Lord of Destruction would’ve never said anything like that; it went against everything he stood for. 

Lately, she’d been developing an obsession with Garmadon. Ever since he’d saved the city from the Great Devourer, doing what the Ninja couldn’t, she’d lost all faith in them as heroes. The emperor and empress had bought replacement dolls of the Ninja she’d lost in the attack, but they sat untouched in her closet. 

Sometimes, when she was especially frustrated with her pathetic excuses for parents, she’d fantasize what it would be like if Garmadon had adopted her instead. It was a stupid and childish idea, but she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like.

The servant cleared her throat from behind the screen door, and Harumi flinched. What was she still doing there?

“The Royal Family is expecting him tomorrow,” the servant said. “Your mother and I will help you get ready. See to it that you are… presentable.” Harumi could’ve sworn she detected a hint of disdain in her voice.

Expecting him? Harumi stared at the door, slack-jawed. There was no way. Lord Garmadon is coming here? To the palace? No way. There was just no way.

The article had to be fake – just another Gayle Gossip classic. I’m going to see him. Maybe even talk to him. Maybe even thank him for everything he’s done. Does he have any idea how much people like me look up to him?

For once, she felt invigorated. Excited even. For the first time since that day, she had almost felt like smiling.

That feeling got crushed quickly.

Gnashing her teeth, balling her fists at her sides, Harumi glared daggers at the pathetic man masquerading as Lord Garmadon.

She had woken up at the crack of dawn, practically dragged out of bed by the Empress and her maidservants. Everything had been a haze of scrubbing, brushing, and getting yanked by both arms in every direction. 

She tried to feel excited about this ceremony they kept talking about, but at first, all she felt was nausea. Her stomach churned under her dress, but she tried not to let it show. All she could think about was meeting him. The inevitability gnawed at her – what would she even say? Would she be able to say anything at all?

“Remember, do not speak unless you are spoken to,” the empress reminded her as they walked out to the courtyard. So much for that possibility.

Harumi and the empress had taken their places to the emperor’s side. The anticipation bubbling in her was turning into a giddy fever; the Lord of Destruction and the true hero of Ninjago was arriving soon. Would he be anything like she’d imagined? Like what she’d seen in the news articles?

Decidedly not, she thought bitterly. Or at least, not like the news articles she’d been thinking of. 

For once, Gayle Gossip hadn’t published fake news. Garmadon had entered the palace gates calmly, holding a walking staff for support. He had looked exactly as he had in the article; weak, frail, ordinary. He had offered a friendly smile to her and the Royal Family, before approaching the emperor.

She had returned it, mostly out of reflex, but the uneasiness had returned. This wasn’t the Garmadon she admired. This was someone else. 

That suspicion was confirmed as she watched him kneel in front of the emperor, bowing his head in submission. Harumi bit down on her lip to stop herself from shouting.

The emperor had droned on in front of a crowd of reporters, citizens, and newscasters about forgiving Garmadon for his crimes against Ninjago. It was torture. All the cameras were trained in her direction, and she could barely control herself.

Harumi was trembling with fury. She had never felt so enraged in her entire life. The empress gripped her shoulder, her grasp tight and painful. She still remembered the feeling of the old woman’s nails digging into her skin, even through all the layers of fabric she had on.

The emperor had no right to do any of this. What authority did he have, as a man who sat in a palace all day, to have Lord Garmadon kneeling in front of him? Garmadon, the most powerful man in all of Ninjago?

And why would Garmadon ever subject himself to this humiliation? He didn’t look embarrassed; he looked peaceful and calm. And if that article about him giving up violence was true… he had betrayed the people of Ninjago. Their only capable hero, exiling himself to the mountains to teach children nonviolence.

Leaving the city to the mercy of whatever new terror would come next. Leaving the city in the unreliable, incompetent hands of the Ninja once again.

He hadn’t just betrayed Ninjago. He betrayed her. He betrayed himself.

The ceremony felt like it dragged on for hours, though it was probably around fifteen minutes. When the emperor finished his speech and shook hands with Garmadon, the empress ushered Harumi back into the palace. She locked eyes with Garmadon for a brief moment, still seething. His kindly, tired gaze seemed to shift, and the barest of frowns crossed his face. Before she could react, the empress opened the door and pulled Harumi back into the palace.

As the doors creaked shut, Harumi let out the smallest of sighs, scrunching her face and relaxing it. Her facial muscles felt like they were crying out from all the tension they carried.

“Harumi,” the empress said icily, leaning down slightly to Harumi’s eye level. She froze, fear creeping into her chest, mingling with the still-simmering rage. The empress had always been intimidating, but now, with her eerily stony expression, Harumi felt as though ice was creeping through her.

“How would you explain your behavior just now?” Her voice was on the edge between strict and angry.

Harumi couldn’t speak, her gaze straying to the ground.

“What have we taught you?” The empress asked. “Speak when you are spoken to.”

A fresh wave of wrath flooded through her chest. “I don’t know,” she said quietly, her voice trembling.

“Look at me,” the empress commanded. She did, trying to keep her face neutral. Normally, the traditional makeup they had to wear looked silly, like a clown’s. At that moment, it looked terrifying and almost demonic. “Your behavior was unusual and embarrassing. I don’t know why you were shaking and grimacing, but you did so in front of national television and a crowd of people.”

Harumi felt her bottom lip start to quiver. Disappointment stung no matter who it came from.

The empress sighed, the tension draining from her face. “Harumi… we want the best for you. We know that you’re experiencing difficulties adjusting, and Hutchins has brought some… concerns to my attention,” she lifted Harumi’s chin with her fingers, forcing eye contact.

Hutchins, ever the nuisance.

“You are not just a little girl anymore,” she continued. “You are the Jade Princess. You’ve been through a great deal, more than anyone should in their lifetime, but you must grow past it. A large part of being royalty is having poise and confidence. No matter what you feel or think, you can’t let it show.”

Harumi pursed her lips to stop them from trembling, trying to stay still in the empress’ grip. She’d heard all of this before. 

The empress dropped her hand, smoothing her dress. “We all wear our masks, Harumi,” she said, her voice tinged with bitterness. “You must start to make yours.”

Harumi lay sprawled across the bed, gazing over the Ivory City. Even with nothing but the stars to illuminate it, the city still had an unearthly glow. 

It was times like this, when the world was quiet, that she let her thoughts drift wherever they wanted. Usually, they ended up in her memories; it wasn’t like they had a great variety of options.

How quickly a few years could change a person. She pushed her hair over her shoulder, letting her loose ponytail hang limply. Would she admire me if she saw me now? Would she hate me?

She closed her eyes, pulling the covers over her shoulder. She hated everything.