"I thought you said the string wouldn't get tangled!"

"Yea, if you did everything I said, which you didn't!"

I sighed and rubbed my temples. I probably shouldn't have expected an easily angered, prideful, stubborn Master of Wind to be able to teach something to the equally prideful and stubborn former Lord of Darkness without any problems. Still, I was happy that they were trying. Maybe in time, their relationship would get better.

"This time, maybe AVOID the trees?"

"That's what I was TRYING to do!"

…but for now, it was too loud for my taste. As the two argued, I slowly backed away until I found myself at a bench to sit down on. I was still easily in sight of the conversation, but now at least my ears could rest. And my feet, for that matter. I sighed deeply and started thinking about machines. The sudden urge to tinker overwhelmed me and I decided I really needed some sort of physical project to be working on, for when this "other" project wasn't going so well. I couldn't build weaponry, of course— no need for that in the afterlife— but I couldn't build a vehicle, either, as it was agreed-upon protocol to walk everywhere. There wasn't really a law against vehicles, but with so much time to spend and a limited amount of things to do, there was no reason to have them around: they just provided even more time to kill, which hardly anybody wanted.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by a rustling in the bushes next to me. At first I thought Morro was going to pop out and scare me as a prank, but he was still a distance off, arguing with Garmadon. Then, a tiny human head popped out from inside one of the bushes, watching the argument intensely. It belonged to a small child— one of the judges from the duel, I realized. The first one to have come over, in fact. He didn't notice me notice him, so I studied him via glimpses off to the side while he was engrossed with the debate a few yards off. (Well, studied his face, at least— most of his body was still hidden in the bushes.)

He had short dark hair, almost as black as Morro's, and eyes just as dark, which pierced through thin-rimmed rectangular glasses. I wondered how he acquired glasses so young: his parents must have either been very rich back on Ninjago, or his eyesight must have been extremely bad, rendering them a necessity, and I didn't think the lenses were thick enough to indicate that. Light freckles dotted the boy's cheeks, and his ears were pretty large. I found myself desperately hoping that none of the other departed kids made fun of him for them.

Suddenly, the boy looked my way and squeaked, then quickly ducked back into the bush. I chuckled somewhat.

"Hey now," I said, "it's all right. Enjoying the show?"

The boy didn't answer or come out from his hiding spot.

"Don't worry," I reassured him, "I'm not going to tell your parents if you ran off. What's your name?"

Still no answer. I sighed, a bit disappointed. I was generally pretty good with kids… then again, every child was different, and I couldn't very well suppose that I would immediately get along with all of them.

"All right," I said respectfully, "I'll leave you be, if that's what you wish." I got up off the bench and headed back over towards the argument, deciding it was probably about time to stop the conflict before either parties got each other killed again.

"Look, if you're trying to get a good gust of wind, you can't just—" Morro was saying, but he abruptly cut himself off when he saw me approaching. Both he and Garmadon turned.

"Is something the matter, Doctor Julien?" the Sensei asked. I paused, expecting one of them to ask me to take sides. Probably Morro.

"Erm… I was just wondering how the lesson was going," I said awkwardly. I pushed my glasses up on my face, unsure of how to stop the argument if they were no longer arguing.

"Well, Grandpa-don here is having trouble running fast enough to get a good starting gust—"

Garmadon cocked his head at the boy in exasperation. "How many of those nicknames do you have!?" he asked, picking up his kite and whacking Morro's back with an almost-defeated expression.

"A good card player never reveals his hand. Anyway," Morro responded, answering the question without breaking eye contact with me, "that means he's flying his kite too low, which obviously ends up with it getting caught in trees, which keeps tangling the string."

"Ah," was all I could think to reply to that. I hesitated, but decided to go ahead and try to offer a solution. "Is it possible that since you fly kites rather… unconventionally… that it's harder for you to teach someone without your skill?"

"I'm trying to teach him how to have skill," Morro scoffed.

"Actually, I meant your ability to manipulate the wind…" I clarified, tugging at the sleeves of my lab coat a bit nervously.

"Oh." Morro paused. "Well, that part's not my fault—"

"Yes, but you won't even give my kite a boost!" Garmadon cut in.

"That's because you won't learn how to do it on your own if I help you!" Morro retorted.

Aaah. So Morro was refusing to help Garmadon with his powers when he was having trouble. Suddenly the argument made a lot more sense to me. It wasn't just about the kites— they were both defending a position about teaching which they believed in strongly. (That, or they just liked to argue, which was still a possibility.)

"Garmadon," I said quickly, "didn't you once say something similar to Lloyd? That he needed to learn how to fend for himself?"

"Well— yes," he replied, "but this is different! I showed him everything I knew first, even helped him perform all the moves I was teaching. Then I made him do it on his own. I didn't just toss him out in the cold and tell him to do everything on his first try," he scoffed defensively.

"Well, that's how Wu taught me," Morro snapped back.

A sudden silence fell over all three of us. Garmadon and I looked at each other, and I could've sworn we had an entire conversation using only our eyes. It couldn't exactly be translated into words, but the general idea was understandable enough: Arguing Morro on this point was hopeless, because his statement was true— whether it was intentional or not, Wu had pretty much left the boy to learn everything on his own, with little to no guidance. I distinctly remembered Zane telling me once how Wu had taught him and the others Spinjitzu: by setting up an obstacle course which required Spinjitzu to complete, and then putting all three ninja through said obstacle course every day until they got it. Since Jay, Cole, and Zane were all trained at the same time, they snuck each other tips at night about how to get through. (That you needed to jump over this, or not jump over that, or wait until the punching bags were right in front of you to punch.) Therefore, they weren't really doing the course alone, and learned to rely on each other as teachers. However, according to Zane, Kai never got that luxury: the others weren't even told of his existence until after he mastered Spinjitzu, so he actually was without a teacher. In other words, Kai really did learn everything alone… and as an unforeseen side-effect, he apparently grew something of an ego.

"Morro," I said, choosing my words very carefully, "I understand where you're coming from. But perhaps forcing others to do things on their own isn't always the best teaching method." Before he could respond and thus drag me into the argument, I added, "After all, Garmadon here isn't anywhere close to your skill level, as you've pointed out. Isn't there a possibility that he might need at least some help before he can do all the things you can do?"

Morro paused, and I silently crossed my fingers that Garmadon wouldn't say something to interrupt. My wishes were granted, as finally Morro spoke up:

"Well, I still say he's a weakling if he has to ask others for help… but fine, whatever. I'll give him a boost."

"Finally," Garmadon mumbled, although thankfully I don't think Morro heard him.

I smiled silently to myself as the pair walked back a few paces to give the kite-flying another go. It might take a lot of work, but I was sure that the two could eventually come to terms with each other. Considering the awkward relationship of both of their pasts, they really weren't doing so badly, already. To be honest— although I'd never say it in front of them— I almost thought they acted rather like father and son, not from my own experiences, but from what I knew of others.

I glanced back at my bench, considering sitting down again, when I noticed a movement in the nearby bushes. I turned my head quickly, not wanting to be seen as a stalker or intruder… but I knew that as I did, a black-haired figure was peeping out to watch the upcoming spectacle.

—

(A/N: HELLO AGAIN! *Waves frantically* So, I've been working on something which I finally finished, and I've been pretty nervous-cited to tell you all… SDLPC has an outline now! Whaaat? That's right, I actually know where the heck this random Slice-Of-Afterlife is going! XD Anyway, I don't want to say the number of chapters or anything because they'll probably fluctuate, but I'm crossing my fingers that the muse doesn't completely ditch me while I'm working on this because honestly, I kind of really like everything I've got planned. Even if most of that still consists of domestic roommate shenanigans ^_^ Anyhow, hope you enjoyed this [kinda short] chapter and I'll see you all in the next one!)