"Are you sure about this?"

I half-glared at my roommate, who walked with me through the front doors of a store boasting the sign Departed Fashions (an unfortunate name choice in my opinion).

"If you ask me if I'm sure about something," I pointed out, "then I'll have to respond that it'll be fine, and then it most definitely won't be fine. I'd think you of all people would know that." I hoped I hadn't offended him, but it was better for him in the long run if he learned now that the rule of "what could go wrong" still applied in the afterlife.

Garmadon pondered my claim. "Hm… you have a good point." He fidgeted slightly with my white lab coat, which he currently donned. "I'm not sure how easy it will be to find a gi in this place. It's enormous."

I looked around the store, which was indeed closer to the size of a strip mall than a simple clothing shop.

An attendant dressed in a worker's uniform spotted and came over to us, and as she approached closer her face grew horrified at our attire. I didn't think my simple t-shirt and leggings were that bad.

"Hello, sirs" she said, studying us carefully. "What can I do for you?"

"This is Sensei Garmadon," I said, after noticing that the customer himself seemed too uncomfortable to talk (which was not unusual for newcomers to the Departed Realm, but still surprising considering his character). "He's looking for a suitable gi."

"Ahh," the worker said, visibly relieved. "So he's a newcomer. Welcome to the Departed Realm!" She held out her hand politely, which Garmadon shook. Then she asked somewhat teasingly, "Die in your sleep?" which was a term meaning that someone had unfortunate taste in clothing or hairstyle, but was in this case also a legitimate question. He shifted uncomfortably.

"Um, no, I gave my robes to my son before I passed away. And I didn't exactly have time to run out for a new outfit before being drowned alive in the Preeminant," he said gravely.

There was an awkward silence. The worker shifted uncomfortably. "Oh," she said. "I'm sorry to hear that. Um, our gi department is up ahead." She started leading us through the store, staying a good distance in front of us.

I glanced over at Garmadon's disgruntled face and decided to leave him be. The attendant had only been trying to make small talk, but I could understand his still being a bit shaken from the circumstances of his death. Not every father has to watch his own son sacrifice him for the good of the world… three times.

"We're here," she said after a time, motioning to a large section of racks boasting gis of different colors. "Ask me or another worker if you need anything." She then hurried away at a pace that suggested she'd prefer the latter.

Garmadon started looking through the racks, which were organized by color and size. Personally, I never understood fashion, but he seemed to know what he was doing. He browsed silently for a bit and then took a black-and-gold gi off the rack.

"There. This is pretty similar to what I wore back in Ninjago," he said, satisfied. "Is there a fitting room somewhere here, or…?"

I glanced around the store. "I'm… not quite sure," I admitted. "I've never actually been to this store until now. I guess I never had a reason to come."

"Well, those who don't seek, never find," he said casually, taking a pair of leggings from a 'complimentary items' display. "Let's look around and see if we can find one."

We started walking through the store together, with Garmadon occasionally commenting on the other fashions being sold. Most of his comments were "Is that what kids wear these days?" or some variant of "I see that proper dress-wear has a different meaning in the afterlife," but it still made me happy to listen to him. I was particularly pleased when he started making guesses as to which outfits the ninja would pick out if they were with us, although I'll admit I wasn't much help in confirming or denying his estimates.

Finally, we found a station of fitting rooms; we went inside and Garmadon handed me back my lab coat, which I slipped back on gratefully.

"That was an interesting debate you had with Morro this morning," he commented while trying on the gi. I laughed.

"Oh, yes. That boy is rather entertaining, especially considering how hard he tries to be… what was that word Kai taught me… 'edgy.'" I finished buttoning up my coat and looked over at my roommate, who had finished trying on the outfit. It suited him, and did look like something he would have worn during his lifetime (minus the logo for Departed Fashions on the sash). Suddenly, he frowned.

"Wait," he said, "I didn't bring any money. I'm sorry, I'll have to pay you—"

I laughed and waved his comment off. "Oh, don't worry about it. They'll deduct it from your credit at the front. I'd offer you some of mine, since I never use any of it, but it's non-transferrable, so…"

Garmadon raised an eyebrow at me. "Credit?"

"Oh, that's right, you never got a proper tour of the place, did you?" I asked. "Well, I'll try my best to fill you in, then." We started walking back to the front of the store while I talked (and it was a good thing we did, because it took us a while to find).

"Everyone in the Departed Realm starts out with a year to adjust," I began. "During that period, you're given an amount of free credit to help you get back any commodities you might have died without, such as clothing. You can also buy things to decorate your living quarters, if that appeals to you."

"You spent much of your credit on photographs, I assume," Garmadon said with a smile.

"Ah, yes— although mine are a special kind of photograph that can capture any moment from your life, whether that moment was actually caught on camera or not. But, I digress. After your one year to adjust, you're assigned a working period by the Departed Officials, who show up at your pad without warning and usually early in the morning." I coughed. "Anyhow, the D.O. tell you what your work shift is, which can range anywhere from a year in every 50 to 50 for every free year."

"Yikes," said Garmadon with a whistle. "How are the shifts decided?"

"Mostly on your actions during your lifetime," I said. "My shift is a year out of every five."

"Really? I'm surprised it's not shorter," he said. "For one, you built the ninja of ice, without whom Ninjago would have perished many times over by now."

"True, but you forget my many years spent crafting warfare for Samukai. Anyhow, I'm perfectly content with my situation."

"Fair enough. How about Morro?" he asked.

"Well, he's… different," I said after hesitation. "He died twice, so this is his second adjustment period. I don't know what his work schedule is, but I'm guessing that it's longer than mine."

"Ah," Garmadon said, furrowing his brow. "Well, serves the little rascal right… ah, there's the checkout!" We proceeded to the checkout area (the workers there let him keep the purchased clothes on— they were probably used to similar situations by now—) and headed out the door.

"Well, that took longer than I'm used to for simply buying an outfit," Garmadon said, glancing at a clock on the way out. "It's already 4:35."

4:35? I jerked my head up, checking his statement. "Oh dear," I said, hurrying my pace. "We'd better get going! We're supposed to be at the park at 5:00!"

"We?" asked Garmadon. "I'm not the one dramatically comparing kite-flying skills."

"Well, I guess I assumed you'd want to watch…" I started, then smiled. "But now that you've said that, yes, you are. You're competing now. Let's go."

Before he could say anything in protest, I grabbed his wrist, grinning to myself as I tugged him along to the fated kite duel.

—

(A/N: I feel like this is one of my weaker chapters, despite being relatively long... eh... sorry "^^ Hope you enjoy anyway '^^)