The stars blinked above Ninjago City, casting a gentle shimmer over the rooftops. The two figures perched on top of a clocktower stood out only to the most observant eye. Lloyd sat with his legs dangling over the edge, clutching a paper lantern in his hands. Beside him, Jinx leaned against a support beam, arms folded, eyes watching the moon.
"Do you think my dad ever did something like this with me before he…" Lloyd trailed off, staring at the blank lantern. "Before he changed?"
Jinx didn't answer immediately. Instead, he took a small brush and began to paint silent strokes on his own lantern. He never looked up. "If he didn't, that's on him. Doesn't mean you can't make your own memories now."
Lloyd nodded slowly. "You ever do this as a kid?"
Jinx paused, the brush hovering mid-air. "Nah. I wasn't the lantern type."
"You mean you didn't want to or you didn't have anyone to do it with?" Lloyd asked curiously.
A small smirk tugged at the edge of Jinx's mouth. "Look at you trying to be a therapist. You charging for this session?"
Lloyd chuckled, "Nah. But I take payment in snacks."
Jinx finally met his gaze, his dark purple eyes softened by the lantern light. "Let's just say I didn't grow up with much of anything. Not something I dwell on."
There was silence between them, not heavy, just… still. The kind that came with mutual understanding.
Then, without warning, Jinx ruffled Lloyd's hair.
"Hey!" Lloyd protested, ducking.
"Let's launch that lantern before you cry about your hair being ruined," Jinx teased, already holding his own aloft.
They released them together, twin glows rising into the sky.
And for a moment, Lloyd glanced at Jinx—his dry humor, his guarded eyes, the way he never answered too much. He didn't say it out loud, but he felt it in his chest: Jinx didn't act like a friend.
He acted like something closer.
Like a dad.
================================================================================
The dojo was quiet.
Too quiet.
Jinx had noticed it hours ago—how Cole didn't join in training, how his laugh was absent during Jay's usual nonsense, and how even the way he walked seemed slower, like the world weighed heavier on his shoulders today.
Jinx, who usually prided himself on keeping a certain emotional distance, couldn't shake it.
So, when he saw Lloyd in the hallway, he leaned against the wall and asked casually, "Something up with Cole?"
Lloyd's expression softened. "It's the anniversary of his mom's death. He doesn't really talk about it. But it hits him hard every year."
Jinx nodded once. No jokes, no smart remarks. Just a quiet hum of understanding. He didn't say much else—just slipped away, disappearing into the kitchen like a ghost with purpose.
—
An hour later, the dojo kitchen smelled like vanilla, dark chocolate, and a hint of orange zest. Jinx stood over the counter, brow furrowed, tongue sticking out slightly as he traced delicate patterns of caramel and frosting into a swirl of earthy tones. It was a quiet art, something he did slowly and without his usual flair. Not for show. Just… for Cole.
The cake sat on a simple wooden platter. No candles. No writing. Just a breathtaking sculpture of layers and textures—rich chocolate with orange accents, like a sunset carved into sugar and memory.
Jinx carried it carefully through the halls, ignoring Jay's wide eyes and Kai's near-howl of "You baked!?"
He found Cole on the roof, alone, as expected. Sitting with his arms draped over his knees, staring at the skyline.
Jinx didn't say anything. He just walked over, placed the cake down beside him, and sat.
Cole blinked, looked at the cake, then back at Jinx. "…You baked?"
Jinx shrugged, one arm draped over his bent knee. "Don't sound so shocked."
Cole let out a breath—half-laugh, half-sigh. "I didn't know you could."
"I like the ones you make," Jinx said simply. "Figured I'd try."
There was a long pause before Cole looked at him again, the corners of his eyes glassy, but he smiled. "You did this… for me?"
"You make good cakes," Jinx replied. "Didn't feel right to let you sit in silence without one."
Cole looked at him for a moment longer, then nudged him lightly with his shoulder. "Thanks, man."
They sat in silence after that. Not heavy silence.
Just enough space for grief and kindness to share the rooftop.
And that night, Cole took the first bite and smiled—not because the cake was good (though it was), but because someone had remembered.
And cared.
Even if that someone hid behind shadows and sarcasm.
================================================================================
The mountain winds howled, slicing through the high cliffs of Ninjago like sharpened whispers. Lightning cracked in the sky—not natural, but summoned.
Jay Sommers flew back with a grunt, sliding across the rocky terrain, his hair standing on end from the static that still lingered in the air.
"You're holding back again," Jinx said, stepping out of the dust with casual grace. His dark purple eyes shimmered like a storm ready to break.
Jay gritted his teeth and raised his hands. "I'm not! I just—ugh—don't have my nunchucks! It's harder without them!"
"No excuses," Jinx said, voice calm but stern. "You're not a weapon. You are the storm. Now prove it."
Jay roared and spun forward, bolts of lightning crackling from his fingertips. Jinx slid back, dancing over the rock like the wind itself. His coat flared behind him, his katana Silence still sheathed, as he raised one hand.
"Too wide," Jinx muttered. A flick of his wrist sent a spiral of air beneath Jay's feet, throwing his balance. "Too reckless."
Jay flipped and righted himself mid-air, then snapped both palms forward. Thunder roared as pure lightning surged out. Jinx didn't move—until the last second.
With a sudden clap, the wind burst behind Jinx and propelled him forward, spiraling around Jay in a blur. He reappeared behind him, tapping the back of Jay's head with two fingers before kicking him forward.
"Gah!" Jay tumbled forward, rolling across the stone.
He punched the ground. "You fight like a haunted kite!"
"And you cry like a toaster in the rain," Jinx quipped, dodging a retaliatory bolt. "Stop wasting energy. Feel it. Don't think, feel."
Jay paused, breathing hard. His eyes narrowed. Then he crouched, grounded his feet, and closed his eyes.
The storm quieted around him—not gone, but waiting.
When Jay opened his eyes again, they crackled with raw focus.
This time, when he moved, the lightning didn't screech—it hummed. It flowed. His steps synced with the rhythm of the wind, and as he struck out, the arcs twisted naturally around his arms like threads of light. A punch sent shockwaves. A spin kicked up sparks that danced on the wind.
Jinx smirked and finally drew his blade—not to strike, but to match. His movements weren't defensive—they were poetry. A slice that guided the wind. A dash that curved the lightning around him. He and Jay moved like two forces bound by the same storm—lightning and air, chaos and control.
Hidden above, Master Wu watched from a tree branch, arms folded inside his sleeves. His eyes were shadowed beneath his straw hat, but his brows knit as he observed.
Their forms… their movement… at first chaotic, yes. Separate. Undisciplined. But now…
As Jinx caught Jay's lightning on a spiral of wind and redirected it back into a spinning arc that Jay caught and turned into a grounded surge, Wu's heart skipped a beat.
That rhythm.
That style.
He had seen it before.
Not in the form of wind or lightning—but the essence. The blending of elements. The harmony of opposition.
It reminded him of a friend.
A long-lost warrior who had once fought beside him.
The Tempest Style…
Wu's breath caught in his throat.
Could they really have discovered its rhythm again?
Jay fell to his knees, panting. "Okay… I might have… kinda… felt it."
Jinx sheathed his blade and offered a hand. "About time."
Jay chuckled breathlessly. "You're the worst teacher… but also the coolest."
Jinx shrugged. "I get that a lot."
Above them, Wu disappeared into the shadows of the trees. He would say nothing yet—not until he was sure.
But the storm that once died long ago… might just be returning.
(do y'all like the skits?)