Nya needs a father figure and I'm gonna give it to her, dammit.
Update, as of 6/10/23: I'm going back through a reworking this story just a tad. I started it forever ago and my writing style has changed! So if you're rereading and notice any changes, fear not. It's all uphill from here.
oOo
Life as a blacksmith is hard, but life as a cat-mom is even harder. That's what Nya discovers over the next week, when she has to keep one eye on the kitten at all times.
Kai looks like he wants to say, "I told you so," but miraculously, he keeps that to himself.
The days start flying. Kai's birthday comes and goes without much ceremony, but he's officially thirteen. Which means his ego is a whole year bigger now.
Nya's birthday isn't for another two months, and he loves to hold it over her head.
"Now I'm three years older than you," he claims proudly.
"That's not how that works, Kai."
They're getting more customers now. That's good, because they're making more money. But it's bad, because Kai can't singlehandedly deal with the workload anymore.
Thankfully, Nya's prepared to offer a solution.
"Let me help," she says one day, as Kai clangs diligently at a long strip of metal. The midday sun beats down on the thin awning.
Kai doesn't look up. "No."
"Please?"
"No."
Nya sighs dramatically, draping herself across the anvil. Kai yelps, jumping away when he nearly hammers her in the head.
"Nya, what the heck—"
"You're no fun."
She slides to the ground, sighing at regular intervals. Each sigh is louder, grating on Kai's nerves until he nails her with a glare.
"What."
Nya shrugs innocently. "I dunno, if you let me help, you could be done a lot faster. Don'cha think?"
"You're literally ten. I can't just hand you a hammer like 'here, go crazy, sis!'"
Unchanged, Nya nudges Kai with her foot. "Why not?"
"Because I said so."
"That line is for grown-ups."
"I'm grown up."
"Thirteen is not grown up."
"Neither is ten."
"Then how come you're the one acting like a baby—"
Kai tips his head back, forcing out a strange laugh that ends in a groan.
"Okay. Y'know what? Fine. Fine. C'mere."
"Sweet!" Nya is on her feet in record time.
"I'll teach you the basics, but that's it."
Nya refrains from pointing out that "the basics" is all Kai knows anyway. She's been waiting for a chance to feel useful and more teasing will just ruin it.
"Okay, so, take this." Kai hands her the hammer. "Then hold it like—yeah, move your hand a little. But don't—"
Nya swings the hammer down on the metal, sending golden sparks bouncing in every direction—including dangerously close to Kai's hair. There's a screech from his direction.
"Okay! Okay, so that's exactly what we don't wanna do. Just—stick to the counter today, alright?"
Oh, great. She should've known better than to test the precarious reserves of Kai's patience.
But she's not done yet. Luckily for Nya, she knows exactly which of her brother's buttons to push.
"I bet you're just scared," she says.
"Scared of what?"
"That I'm gonna be better than you."
"Wha—no! That's crazy. I'm not—"
Nya dances around Kai, flapping her arms and squawking a torrent of undignified chicken noises. Kai tries to shoo her away, but he breaks within mere moments. Just as she suspected he would.
He can poke fun at her height all he wants. Kai's fuse is way shorter than her.
"Fine, have it your way. Me, you, blacksmithing match. Now."
He herds her over to the second anvil off to the side. Of course he's gonna make her use the lame one. He always says the surface is too bumpy, but Nya will have to deal. Her spirited brother can never resist a good competition.
"What're we making?" asks Nya.
"Sword." He's barely listening to her. "Go."
Giddily, Nya sets to work. She's seen Kai do this a hundred times before, it can't be that difficult. Plus, if he's actually worried she'll beat him . . . might as well prove him right.
She doesn't pay any more attention to Kai—fashioning together a functional weapon requires one's full concentration. It's all careful precision and exact angles. Edges and lines and repetition.
When she's hammered her metal into the correct shape, Nya hauls it over to the forge. The heat is almost suffocating at this proximity—how does Kai tolerate it every day?
She rotates the blade back and forth, watching the flames in its reflection. There's something fascinating about this process.
When Nya pulls the sword from the fire, it has become pliable. So then it's back to hammering.
Somewhere along the line, Nya is struck with a revelation.
This is fun.
Forget all that stuff she said about blacksmithing being boring. She's making something. Even better: she's beating Kai at his own game.
And he knows it, to, because he glances over and frowns. It's his I'm about to have my butt kicked frowns.
Nya's so invested that she finds herself adding extra details. Flourishes and personal touches to the hilt, things that make it her own.
Time passes quicker when you're working, that's what Nya decides. Soon, she's slamming her hands down and yelling "done!" with Kai.
They spin to face one another.
Kai's eyes go wide.
Nya's sword is slender and curved, all silver beauty and smooth lines. The hilt has been decorated with a swirling piece of scrap metal, wrapping around it like a vine. There are even tiny leaves, carefully molded and placed for embellishment.
Kai blinks.
His sword actually isn't bad. It's evident he put lots of effort into it, but the hilt is slightly crooked, and the blade has some harsh edges that could be smoother . . .
Nya has definitely won. But she's scared of damaging Kai's pride, so she says nothing.
Her brother crosses his arms, squinting appraisingly.
"Touché, sis."
Nya waits for a smart remark, but it never comes.
"I—what?"
"You win." Kai's laughing now, not upset in the slightest. "Man. Looks like I underestimated ya."
At first, this praise is rather off-putting. Because since when does Kai let someone else win? Who is this guy and what has he done with her brother? Compliments from Kai are rare indeed.
She'd better roll with it. It might be decades before this happens again.
"Thanks! It's good, huh?"
Kai's expression shifts a little. "Well—I mean, it's . . . ya know. Pretty adequate."
Aaaand he's back.
But he reaches over to ruffle her hair and wink, and Nya smiles.
"I'm impressed," says Kai. "You won the title, fair and square."
"Best Family Blacksmith rolls right off the tongue—"
"Don't push it."
"Sorry."
They start putting tools away and readjusting the workspace. Nya observes her handiwork.
"Think it'll sell?" she asks.
Kai waves his hands. "No, don't sell it."
"Why not?"
"Because it's—well, besides being totally adequate, it's, like . . . kinda cool." The admiration slips through his tone. "You should keep it. It's your first one, it's special."
Maybe he's got a point. She is pretty proud of it. Someday it might be fun to find it and think back to this moment. Hopefully she'll be more skilled by then. And taller.
After that, there's a brief lull in business for a while. Kai is (to Nya's dismay) able to handle the workload. It's summer and people are especially fond of garden tools, wheel rims, and candlesticks.
Because apparently you can make a lotta stuff out of iron.
Nya busies herself with reading. She finds a dusty box of old tools, under which is a battered booklet of smithing designs. The inside cover is scrawled with Ray Smith.
(She knows her last name is cliché, okay? The Smiths are blacksmiths, woohoo, get over it already.)
When she tries to show Kai, he brushes her off. He says he wants to master blacksmithing without relying on their dad's insight. He wants to do it on his own.
Typical Kai being Kai.
Personally, Nya would rather do things by-the-book. So she spends hours flipping through the pages, reading her dad's notes scribbled in the margins. His handwriting is messy. Cramped cursive, so tiny that she struggles to interpret some of it.
The last page has a single sentence written on it.
No matter how much fire you have, experience isn't something you learn overnight.
Nya traces over the splotchy ink, wondering who the message was intended for. Maybe her father wrote this reminder for himself. Or maybe for his kids . . .
No. Nya shakes herself back to the present. Her dad probably wasn't thinking that far ahead. She shouldn't get her hopes up.
Most of the designs are for armor and weaponry, not basic tools and household objects. Strange. Perhaps her father was making weapons for the Serpentine War. She's read about it in history books before, though the information available is rather limited.
Over the next couple of weeks, she and Kai switch places a few times. He's a much better people-person than Nya is, so he likes working the counter.
Whenever she can, Nya spends time working with the forge.
Things are going great! Except . . .
There's this little voice in the back of Nya's head, and it's telling her that this is very abnormal.
Kids shouldn't live by themselves. Kids don't run family businesses. Kids aren't supposed to be alone.
She's not saying Kai isn't good enough for her. It's just hard not to get bitter sometimes. Sure, people lose their parents sometimes, but . . .
Why'd it have to happen to us?
It would be nice to have parents. Maybe. She's not sure what parents do, exactly, or what would be different. There's just a missing space inside her.
In fact, every time she thinks of something a parent is supposed to do, the immediate follow-up thought is, Kai does that.
Kai makes breakfast and lights the candles and buys the food and haggles over prices with the vendors. He's there when she's scared, or sad, or excited. He gives Nya his blanket when she's cold. He brushes her hair when she's too tired.
And she loves him. She really does. Just . . .
Sometimes she wonders if he does those things out of obligation. Like, maybe he's just hoping she'll grow up already and leave.
oOo
On slow days, Nya sits on the kitchen floor, flicking pebbles around and watching Allie chase them. Allie is the kitten's "unofficial" name.
(Get it? 'Cause she was found in an alley? Ha.)
She's not totally sure if the cat is a girl. Kai says there are ways to check, but Nya's not exactly comfortable with any of them. But Allie is repulsed by Kai, as most girls are, so Nya figures she must be female.
Kai himself is so busy with the shop that he's practically forgotten the kitten even exists. Nya isn't too worried about having to give Allie up anytime soon.
Besides, it's nice to have a friend.
Soon, she turns eleven, and Kai gives her a book about mechanics that he must've bought while she wasn't paying attention. Nya is over the moon.
"You're the only eleven-year-old on the planet who cares about machinery," Kai says, shaking his head. But he flashes her a smile, reminding her that (secretly) he actually thinks her interest is kind of cool.
And he's right! Nya does care about machinery. She thinks it's complex and interesting and fun to look at. All the moving parts and detailed components . . . she likes to know how it all goes together.
Nya likes to know how things work.
The end of summer closes in and autumn is on its way. Kai ends up making a few solo trips into town so he can find material to keep the house warm.
The fireplace and furnace really only heat the living room and forge. Both Kai and Nya's bedrooms are always cold, and don't even get her started on the bathroom. Their hot water is limited and Kai likes to use all of it.
Which is ridiculous because he's never cold. Nya, on the other hand, is starting to think she might be of reptilian descent. She's always cold.
One day, while Kai's in town, Nya is wandering the empty house and stumbles across a closet near the kitchen. There are packed boxes inside, stuffed with random cleaning supplies. Odds and ends. Lightbulbs and wire.
Nya finds some extra blankets in there and yanks them out. Dust flies everywhere. Oh well, she'll shake them out when Kai gets back.
She's not supposed to leave the house when he's gone, 'cause apparently she's only old enough to be inside alone and that's it.
As Nya hauls the blankets to her room (Kai doesn't need them, he's his own heater), Allie tags along, playfully swatting at Nya's heels. Per usual, Nya's room is dark except for one candle burning on the desk.
They can't afford electricity, otherwise she'd think about installing some of those lightbulbs she just found.
Unless . . .
Hmm.
Nya dumps the blanket load on her bed and skids back into the kitchen. A while later, she emerges with her arms full of lightbulbs, tinfoil, batteries, and string.
The lightbulbs look strange. They're not LED, but they don't look like incandescents either. They almost look like they might be battery powered.
Interesting.
When Kai comes home later, he calls her name throughout the house. He finds Nya in her room, balancing precariously atop the windowsill as she struggles to hang a string of—what looks like colored lights?
Their parents' old record player is blasting out classic rock on vinyl.
"Do I want to know?" Kai asks.
"Oh, hey!" Nya grins, glancing down. "Look what I did. Found all this stuff in the kitchen closet."
Kai spins, admiring Nya's new decorations. She's taken the lightbulbs and painted them different colors, then used wire to tie them to a long piece of string. They're hung up all over the room.
"Cool," he comments. "But, uh . . . we don't have electricity."
He would know, too. Kai had spent hours contacting companies and trying to set up utilities. They're on a "tight budget," he insists. But that's why Nya crafted her decorations responsibly.
"Check this out." She hops off the windowsill and Kai follows her to the corner, where the string ends in a little box-like device.
"Battery powered!" boasts Nya, gesturing to the box. "Go on, look at it."
Suspiciously, Kai crouches down, gently lifting the tiny plastic box and turning it over. Two batteries sit inside, much too small, but they're pressed against little balls of tinfoil on all sides.
"Uh. . ." He turns to Nya. "What does it do?"
Nya rolls her eyes, like it should be obvious. "I found this battery power box in the closet, but we didn't have any batteries to fit. So I just altered it a little. And look at this."
Nya flips the tiny switch and the light bulbs glow in brilliant blues and purples. Fluorescent shapes and shadows bloom across the walls.
"How—I mean, what did you—" Kai's at a loss for words.
Nya feels the atmosphere change, like her brother's mood has been lifted somehow. The cool tones remind her of being underwater (not that she'd really know; the two of them never learned how to swim).
She never worked with electricity before, not until today. Maybe it's all that reading she's been doing. Everything just sorta—made sense. The science of it just clicked.
"You're gonna be famous someday," says Kai.
Nya blushes resignedly. "I dunno . . ."
"Remember me when you're a billionaire."
She locks her pinky with his. "Promise."
oOo
Days keep stretching into weeks. It's been about six months since they've moved out of Liam's house of horrors, and Kai's becoming progressively more buried under a mountain of responsibilities.
Nya tries to help, but Kai seems to think she shouldn't have to. He wants to do everything by himself and Nya can see that it's not healthy.
Kai barely sleeps. She hears him up at all hours of the night. Sometimes he's clanging around in the kitchen, sometimes hammering away in the forge.
The siblings still see each other every day. They eat together and work together. But besides that . . .
Ugh.
When he's not working on orders, Kai is out finding firewood, or making trips to the market, blah blah blah. He doesn't have time to talk to her anymore, or sit and read together. Nothing.
Some part of Nya wants to be upset. This cat won't entertain her forever, she wants her brother around.
But the other part of Nya tells her she's just fine on her own, thanks. She can have fun by herself. Just watch her.
This declared independence opens up a new world of possibilities. If Kai wants to focus on the shop, fine. She'll find something else to do.
That's why, one day, Nya wakes up earlier than Kai and sneaks right out her bedroom window. Their house is only one story, which makes for prime window-escaping material.
Her feet hit the ground and Nya realizes she forgot shoes. She debates a moment, then shrugs. She's trying to be rebellious today. No shoes it is!
The grass is a crispy brown with the change in seasons. It's cold enough to be winter. Kai keeps wishing for snow, but Nya doesn't expect any. Day of the Departed hasn't even happened yet.
Ah—yikes. She doesn't wanna think about the holiday. Liam never celebrated it, so Nya wonders if she and Kai will do something to honor their parents this year.
She hopes so. At least at Liam's she could see all the lanterns floating away. Their new house is too far from town.
Nya makes it to the road. Just a touch of doubt wriggles into her conscience.
Should she go back and tell Kai where she's going?
It's cold out here. Maybe she should just go back to sleep.
No! She's independent. She's going.
Nya takes off at a sprint, casting a quick glance at the house to make sure Kai hasn't spotted her. The shop's still closed, so that's good.
Rather than heading toward town, Nya goes the opposite direction. The scenery changes. Now she can see the surrounding farmland much better, huge patches of rolling green and yellow spreading out to the horizon. There are still a few lone cows grazing in the distance, but no sheep.
Ahhh, fresh air. The smell of freedom. No workaholic brothers telling her what to do. Or what not to do, more like.
After Nya has traveled some distance, she catches sight of a homely residence, white paneling standing out against the blue sky.
Her first thought is something along the lines of stranger danger, but then she remembers why she's here.
Hesitantly, Nya wanders up to the door. It's in the middle of an admittedly enviable porch, littered with colorful leaves. Must've blown off the plentiful front yard trees.
This is the right house, right? Sure will be awkward if it's not . . .
Nya knocks.
She counts the seconds, getting to six when the door swings open. On the other side is a shocked Walter Pine.
"Nya," he says, as if recalling her name. "Little far from home, aren't you?"
Nya bites her lip, suddenly shy. "Yeah . . . I, uh—I was just wondering . . . I mean, I just—it's—"
Amusedly, Walter chuckles. "Listen, kiddo, don't worry. Wanna talk about it over pancakes?"
Pancakes? Nya's used to burnt toast and apple slices.
"Sure."
Walter must've been in the middle of cooking his breakfast, because there's a pan on the stove and a bowl of batter sitting on the counter. Nya pulls out a chair and plops down.
The inside of the house looks . . . exactly how she'd expected a middle-aged bachelor's kitchen to look. Wooden furniture, checkered curtains, mismatched trinkets on the shelves. Random trophies and bowling shoes and seashells and—
"Is that my dad?" Nya asks, pointing to a picture inside a cheap frame. The photo is Walter (thinner, and with darker hair) next to a bronze-skinned, grinning man. The two of them are posing in front of Four Weapons—the sign in the background looks freshly painted.
Walter sighs, hands on his hips. "Yep. We go way back, Ray and I."
There are memories and stories hiding behind his expression, but Nya doesn't pry. Something tells her she'll find out eventually.
"Are you, uh . . . do you live alone?" asks Nya.
"Sure do. You think a wife woulda let me keep this ugly wallpaper up for so long?"
Nya laughs a little. He's got a point.
Walter pours the batter into the pan. It sizzles as he turns back to Nya.
"So where's your brother?"
"At home." She smiles proudly. "I snuck out."
"Ooh, we've got ourselves a runaway," Walter says, but he's using that tone that adults like when they're trying to be funny.
"Yeah. Kai's busy with the—"
AGH!
Nya cuts off abruptly when she realizes what she nearly gave away. Walter doesn't know they're by themselves. Kai has lots of rules and one of the biggest ones is never tell grownups they're living alone.
He says adults will call something called "Child Protective Services" and—Kai will go somewhere and Nya will go somewhere else, like a foster home, and she'll have to eat porridge and sleep in a cot probably!
Nya feels dizzy.
Walter's eyebrows pinch in the middle. "Look, I know damn well you two aren't living with family."
Nya's chest is about to explode from fear or relief, she can't choose one.
He continues. "I'm not gonna tell anybody. Now, I dunno your situation, but I'm serious. You ever need someone to help out, just lemme know. Y'hear?"
Nya swallows. "Th—thanks."
"You're welcome."
When the pancakes are finished, they eat in companionable silence, forks clinking and the antique clock ticking away. Sometimes, when Nya finds the courage, she sneaks a glance at Walter.
What is she feeling right now?
It's something . . . warm. Melty and soft. Different from the usual sharp-edged discomfort.
Nya wants this. She wants this every day, for the rest of her life. She wants a nice, cozy farmhouse with checkered curtains and someone to make blueberry pancakes in the morning. She wants this warmth inside of her to stay forever.
Stalling, Nya asks Walter if he has any books.
"Do I?" He smiles.
Together, they walk to another room, one with a TV and three whole mahogany bookcases. They're packed full, the bindings facing outward in a welcoming rainbow. Nya forgets her caution and rushes for them.
She reaches for a book, then quickly retracts her hand. Looking back at Walter, she takes a breath.
"Can I . . . ?"
Walter laughs, shoving both hands in his jean pockets. "Go right ahead."
This is the best day ever.
Nya spends the rest of it on Walter's living room floor, the mound of books growing around her. He has the best books ever. Ones about wilderness survival and birdwatching and one about fixing cars. Nya doesn't even have a car, but the book makes her want one, just so she can take it apart.
Walter leaves her to her own devices, popping in only occasionally to offer snacks or water. Before long, the sun is sinking lower. Blue seeps into pale orange. Nya doesn't notice until Walter calls her name.
"Hey, I hate to say it, but it's gettin' awfully late."
Nya's engrossed in a story about ancient samurai and has to forcefully pull herself out. Walter's right. The sun is setting and—
Holy curse word, she's been gone all day.
All previous notions of rebellion dematerialize, leaving responsible panic in their wake. Kai's probably looking for her! He's worried sick! She needs to go now—
Attune to this panic, Walter nods his head at the window. "Need a ride?"
"Yes, please!"
She gets back to Four Weapons in quite literally no time at all. Driving is way quicker than walking. Nya really wishes she had a car.
Walter stops her before she gets out of the car.
"Forgetting something?"
He holds out a book, the red cover worn and embroidered with thin, gold detailing. It's the one she liked the most, the one about samurai and ancient Ninjago.
He—he's not giving it to her, is he?
"That's not mine," Nya says.
"It is now." Walter passes her the book. Nya takes it with reverence, holding it close to her chest.
"Thank you," she whispers, meaning it.
"Anytime. Be nice to your brother, now!"
Nya nods, sliding out of the passenger seat and watching Walter drive away. The last rays of sunset glint off his rearview mirrors.
For a moment, Nya just breathes, watching the sun creep below the horizon line. Her skin prickles as the chill of dusk rolls in. Some lonely crickets chirp in the bushes.
This is the most relaxed she's felt in . . . well, a long time. She never wants to forget this day.
Promptly, the front door bursts open so loudly that Nya screeches. Kai comes barreling out, distressed.
"Nya! What the heck—where were you? What were you doing all day, I woke up and you weren't here and I—geez."
He slams into her, both arms wrapping her in a rib-crushing hug, which she gratefully returns. The book is squashed between them, and the corner is kinda jabbing her in the stomach, but that's fine. Kai hasn't hugged her in a while and she's missed it. Sue her.
Nya gives her brother a thorough explanation. He rattles off a lecture so long that by the time he's done, Nya has fallen asleep in his bed, one arm hanging off the side.
Kai rolls his eyes good-naturedly. He crawls into the other side, pulling up the blankets. One arm goes around his pillow, and he gently drapes the other one over Nya's shoulder.
The movement wakes her, but she stays still. A happy flutter bursts to life in her chest. She misses this. She misses her normal, stress-free brother.
Nya stays awake till Kai's breathing evens out and she knows he's asleep. Then she can rest, drifting off to the rhythmic sound of her brother's heartbeat close to her ear.