It had been a week since Morro had been back in Ninjago. The city had… changed, since he last saw it. He supposed that was to be expected, he had been gone… a while.

Thankfully, it hadn't taken him too long to find an easy place to sleep. Just a quick duck down an alley, and boom, plenty of shelter. Which was important.

He still vividly remembers the moment he was cursed, it had been a rainy night, and he had stolen some food from some witch's house, and they had been so upset with him that they cursed him. Before he knew it, the droplets of water on his skin burnt like acid, and it had been the same ever since.

With it raining more and more recently, he was finding it increasingly difficult to find somewhere to keep dry.

Now, it wasn't like the water just made his skin hurt, it literally burned him. So, staying dry was a big thing for Morro.

For a seaside city, Ninjago was actually pretty dry. But that wasn't why he came back. He came back because… The only person he knew of who would be able to assist him in lifting the curse was his adoptive father, Wu. Much to his displeasure.

You see, Morro had not even seen the man in question for… what, eight? Nine? Years. It wasn't exactly easy to keep track of time when you lived far from society, by yourself. (Well, he wasn't by himself, he had Alder, but he had told the bird to hang around in the forest at the edge of the city until he returned)

As to the reason why he had not spoken to Wu… Well, for starters he never cared about Morro. He only cared about what Morro could do. Wu had trained him to fight. He was never raised, he never got to be a kid, his only purpose was to be a ninja. It was never about what he wanted; it was about what Wu wanted him to do.

So, he ran away. Into the forest, the perilous forest that begun at just the edge of town. Wu didn't even try to stop him. Despite all odds, he managed to survive. Far away from his 'father' and the future he was supposed to have.

And here he was, crawling back. Believe him, if he had any other choice, he wouldn't be doing this. But he couldn't even go a day now without getting wet, to the point where he had to put all his focus on staying dry.

And now he was here. Hiding in a warehouse filled with boxes. Because it was where Wu used to train him. With any luck, the old man would still be around. He ignored the creeping doubt that had settled in his stomach.

He looked up from his hiding spot, and noticed several large hunks of colorful metal that were not there before, as well as seven people dressed in equally colorful Gi.

Before he knew it, one of them had spotted him, and was alerting the other six. Instantly, they all looked alert, and started dashing at him, gearing up for a fight.

Well, if they wanted a fight, he could deliver. He had something they surely didn't have.

The wind.

Within moments he had, using the wind to aid him, trap them all in some way. They struggled, but none of them managed to escape. He had beat them. He had won, he was the winner, maybe Wu would finally love him-

Two syllables echoed from behind him. Two. He vaguely recognized them as his name. What caught his attention was the voice. It sounded more worn than he remembered, and slightly softer.

"Morro?" The words arched in pitch towards the end, marking it as a question. The question was if it was him. It was.

He turned around, and his suspicions were correct. It was his old sensei. He quickly wet his lips, forcing the words out of his throat that hadn't seen use in a long time like this.

"In the flesh." His voice sounded creaky, like rough, splintery planks of wood on an abandoned dock.

One of the people held in place cried out towards the old man, but Wu is just staring at Morro. He shuffles his feet a little, bamboo staff shifting against the floor. His shoulders are tensed, and his arms are held close to him, curling towards his chest.

Wu is hesitating, clearly unsure of what he is supposed to say, to do. Morro can't say he's much different at the moment. The elder finally seems to find his words, though.

"Morro I… I thought you…" Ah. Seems not, the man falters.

"You what- thought I died? I didn't, with no thanks to you." He brushes off the clunky-ness of his own words, them feeling prickly on his tongue, and flying out of his mouth faster than a bolt of lightning on a stormy sky.

"Sensei, you KNOW This guy?! Who is he?!" The words of one of the several he had trapped grate against his ears as they finally catch them, like a droplet of water landing on his fingertip and rolling down his palm.

"Sensei? They are students of you? You- You replaced me? And they don't even know!" Morro feels his arms shake; he can feel his hatred for his old sensei come bubbling back to the surface again. He wishes his feathered friend were here, a sudden wave of loneliness washing over him.

He was out there, alone, by himself, for years and Wu had just replaced him. Just like that. He didn't even matter. He had left, and Wu didn't even CARE- He just found new students and moved on. Somehow, the thought hurt him more than anything he had endured in the past few years.

"You were gone for so long, I…" Wu's face scrunched up, his mouth ajar, his eyebrows pulled together.

"I came to let you know I came back, but I guess it doesn't really matter. Have fun with your new children." Morro's mouth tasted bitter. His nostrils flared, and he felt his eyes sting- literally, if he cried, he knew the moment the tears spilt over onto his skin he would be in a world of pain.

Oh First. The whole reason he had come back! But it was too late now, he had already let his replacements free of the wind keeping them pinned, and he had already said his goodbye.

It was too late. This whole trip was a waste. He began to take a step past the old man, frustration boiling within him, when he felt something grab his wrist.

On reflex, he whirled around and tried to kick them to make them get away, but they caught his shoulder and stopped him.

"There is no way you can just leave after that. Screw getting answers, that can wait, do you even have a place to stay?" They had pale blond hair. Unnaturally vibrant green eyes, overly sharp teeth- and they spoke as if they knew exactly what was to happen and when.

He hated it. And he already hated them.

So, he certainly wasn't expecting to end up staying the night at this person's home. He was practically forced to, by the time they had dragged him most of the way there, it had started to sprinkle a little.

Nothing was going to plan.