"Are you really going again? I mean seriously you don't have to do this and she definitely doesn't deserve it," Kai said through a mouthful of muffin. Lloyd glanced up from where he was lacing his boots, the morning sunlight filtering into the room through the wide monastery windows. He'd been expecting Kai's commentary. It was only a matter of time before someone voiced what the others had clearly been thinking.
"I know I don't have to," Lloyd replied evenly, tugging the laces tight. "And I'm not doing it because she deserves it. I'm doing it because it's the right thing to do."
Kai let out an exaggerated groan, leaning back in his chair and gesturing wildly with his half-eaten muffin. "The right thing to do? Lloyd, she tried to destroy everything—twice. People don't just magically change because someone shows up with a pep talk and a sunny disposition."
Lloyd sighed staring at his feet. Kai's concern was justified and he had every right to dislike her for what she'd done in the past. Harumi's betrayal had cut deeply—not just for Lloyd, but for all of them. The team had suffered, and the scars left behind weren't the kind that healed overnight.
"I'm not expecting her to change because of me," Lloyd said quietly, standing up and brushing his hands down his shirt. "I'm not naive. But if there's even a chance—just a small chance—that she could find a better path, shouldn't we at least try?"
Kai rolled his eyes. "You've got the patience of a saint, you know that? But don't come crying to me when this blows up in your face."
Lloyd managed a small smile, slinging his green scarf over his shoulders. "I'll keep that in mind."
Arriving at Kryptarium Prison, Lloyd felt the familiar weight of mixed emotions settle over him like a heavy cloak. The imposing gray walls loomed high, a stark reminder of how far Harumi had fallen—and how much she'd taken with her in the process. The guards at the main gate barely acknowledged him as they waved him through, accustomed by now to his visits.
"Ahh, welcome back Lloyd. She won't admit it but I can tell she gets excited whenever you come to visit," Warden Noble greeted walking with Lloyd to Harumi's cell. "I know she's difficult to read but over time you start to pick up on patterns with her, and she really enjoys your company."
"Well that's good to hear, I guess. Oh, I brought some books for her to pass the time, is that okay?" Lloyd asked, holding up a small bag. "I wasn't sure if they'd clear security, but I figured they might give her something constructive to focus on."
The warden took the bag and glanced inside, flipping through the titles. His expression softened, a rare sight on the otherwise stoic man. "These should be fine. She's surprisingly well-read, you know. I think she'll appreciate this."
Lloyd nodded, his grip tightening on the straps of his bag. "Thanks. I just… I think she needs something to remind her that there's more out there. That there's still hope."
The warden gave Lloyd a small smile as they stopped at the door to the cell. "You're a good kid, Lloyd, always trying to see the good in people. But don't lose yourself in the process, alright? Sometimes, people don't want to be saved."
Lloyd forced a smile, the warden's words settling heavily in his chest. He knew the risks of putting his faith in someone like Harumi, but walking away felt like giving up—and giving up wasn't in his nature.
Walking into the cell Lloyd found Harumi sitting on her cot, the same as the last two times but this time she wasn't hunched over or lifeless. Her posture was straighter, more composed, as though she'd been waiting for him. The flicker of tension in her expression softened slightly when she noticed him, but it was quickly masked by the usual guardedness. The silence between them felt familiar, yet there was a shift in the air, something tentative but promising.
"You're early today," she remarked, her voice quieter than usual.
Lloyd shrugged taking the chair that the warden offered him and sitting in front of her. "Yeah, I figured I'd change it up a little," Lloyd said, trying to keep his tone light despite the heaviness that always lingered when they spoke. "I brought you something." He pulled the bag from his side and set it on the table between them. "Some books. I thought you might enjoy them."
Harumi raised an eyebrow, her fingers absently brushing over the covers of the books. She didn't reach for them immediately, but the curiosity in her eyes was impossible to ignore. "Books, huh? You're really not going to let this go, are you?"
Lloyd didn't reply at first, instead watching her carefully. He could tell she was holding herself back, her walls up just as strong as they'd always been. But the small change in her demeanor—the slight relaxation of her shoulders, the way her eyes lingered on the books—spoke volumes to him.
"You don't have to take them if you don't want to," he said gently. "I just… thought they might help."
"Thanks," Harumi whispered gently taking the books and setting them on the cot next to her. "So what do you want to talk about today?"
Lloyd hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to approach the conversation. He hadn't brought it up the last two weeks because it just didn't feel right but he would lying if he said he hadn't noticed how thin she had gotten or the way her face looked paler than usual. "How have you been?" Lloyd asked softly, his voice carrying the weight of the unspoken questions lingering between them. "You don't look so good, Harumi. Is everything... okay?"
Harumi's gaze flickered to the books next to her, her fingers absentmindedly tracing their spines as if they offered some kind of comfort. She didn't immediately respond, the silence stretching between them as she gathered her thoughts, or perhaps her defenses. Lloyd could see her trying to suppress whatever it was gnawing at her, just as she always had.
"I've been fine," she finally said, her voice lacking the usual conviction. She gave him a sharp look, almost daring him to challenge her, but Lloyd wasn't going to take the bait. He knew better than to push her when she was like this.
Lloyd leaned back in his chair, his eyes softening as he took in her guarded expression. He knew the walls Harumi had built were thick, and even a small crack in them was an achievement in itself. Still, he couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that something was wrong.
"You don't have to lie to me, Harumi," he said quietly. "I'm not here to judge you."
Her eyes flickered with something—something almost like vulnerability before it was replaced by the same cold, distant mask she wore so well. She shifted slightly, as if uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking.
"I'm not lying," she replied with forced indifference, though the sharpness in her voice betrayed her attempt to sound unaffected. "I'm just… tired. That's all."
"Okay, alright," Lloyd said, nodding slowly as he processed her words. He didn't push further, letting the silence hang between them for a moment. He had learned long ago that Harumi wasn't someone who could be rushed into opening up. It had to be on her terms, and right now, it seemed like her terms were telling him to back off.
"Alright," he repeated, his tone soft. "Tired. I get that. I just… I just want to make sure you're okay, that's all."
Harumi didn't respond right away, her fingers still tracing the edges of the books, almost as if they were grounding her in the moment. After what felt like an eternity of quiet, she finally lifted her eyes to meet his, a flash of something raw and unspoken crossing her gaze.
"You know," she said slowly, "sometimes I wonder if things would have been different if I had made other choices. If I had just… moved on."
Lloyd watched her for a moment unsure what the right thing to say was. "Maybe," he said quietly, "but there's no point in wondering about the past. All we can do is try to make things better from here on out. Every choice we make now matters more than anything else."
Harumi's gaze shifted downward, her fingers still running over the book covers as though they were a distraction from the weight of his words. For a moment, she was silent, her expression unreadable, but there was something there—an internal struggle, maybe even a glimmer of regret.
Harumi looked up with a sad smile on her face and it made Lloyd's heart ache to see her like this. "You're the only one that seems to think that." Lloyd's chest tightened at the sadness in her voice. He didn't know how to respond, how to fix something so broken, but he wasn't going to give up just yet. Harumi had been through more than anyone could imagine, and while he wasn't blind to the weight of her past, he still believed in her capacity for change.
"Well in other news Warden Nobel has permitted you to walk around the yard, as long as I'm with you of course. Do you want to do that today?" Lloyd asked, trying to shift the mood to something a little lighter, something to give her a brief escape from the heavy conversation.
Harumi's gaze lingered on him for a moment, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. She was clearly torn—torn between the desire for freedom and the reluctance to show any vulnerability, even if it was only to Lloyd. She hadn't had much freedom in the past, and the thought of being escorted around the yard like some fragile piece of glass didn't sit well with her pride.
But after a long, tense silence, she let out a small, almost inaudible sigh. "Yeah, I guess I could use the fresh air. But don't expect me to be your charity case, Lloyd. I'm not some fragile… whatever you think I am."
Lloyd smiled a hint of warmth in his eyes, knowing well enough not to let her walls completely dictate the pace of their interactions. "I don't think you're fragile. Just someone who needs a little time to breathe."
As the two walked around the prison yard, uncomfortably aware of the eyes of guards and other prisoners, Lloyd tried distracting her with normal small talk. Filling her in on what was happening out in the world and junk like that. Harumi listened, her steps measured but steady as they walked side by side. It was strange—having a conversation that wasn't about the past, about guilt, or the things they couldn't change. Lloyd's voice was like a steady anchor, and for a brief moment, she could almost forget where she was.
"...and so, I told Jay that if he so much as thought about bringing that bird inside I would make him sleep outside indefinitely. Of course, he didn't believe me so for a week he slept outside before he finally decided he liked a bed more than a pet. It was one of the rare times I actually won an argument with him." Lloyd chuckled, his voice light as he glanced over at Harumi, expecting some sort of reaction.
For a moment, Harumi's expression remained unchanged, but then, almost imperceptibly, the corner of her mouth twitched. It was small, but it was there. Lloyd couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Even if it was just a fleeting moment of amusement, it was progress.
"That's a pretty harsh punishment," Harumi commented dryly, her tone betraying a hint of amusement. "Poor Jay."
Lloyd grinned, relieved to see her reacting, even if it was just a little. "Well, he was being unreasonable. You should've seen the way he tried to sneak that bird into the house. Like I wouldn't notice it perched on his shoulder the second he walked through the door."
Harumi let out a quiet laugh, the sound almost foreign but genuine. Lloyd felt a warmth in his chest, a small spark of hope kindling. This, these moments, were why he kept coming back. Even in the face of her past and the complexity of their relationship, there were glimmers of something he couldn't ignore. "So what's the food like here?" He already knew the answer to that question, but any conversation was a start at getting her to open up.
She froze, her eyes going dark for a second before she put on yet another mask of lies. "It's okay I guess. Definitely not as good as palace food." Lloyd didn't miss her subtle shift in demeanor and though he knew better than to say anything he was begging to piece together the clues. Her change in appearance, the way she avoided the guards, her hesitation to answer his question. She was being mistreated. And if he had to guess he would say that Warden Nobel had no clue because the guards would just lie when asked about it. Lloyd's thoughts swirled, but he kept his face neutral. Harumi was good at hiding things, masking her pain with sarcasm and indifference, but the subtle changes in her behavior were not lost on him. She had become more withdrawn since his last visit, and the slight tremor in her voice when she spoke about the food, the quick flash of discomfort—he knew it wasn't just her usual façade.
"Well, I guess palace food is hard to beat," Lloyd said with a soft chuckle, hoping to ease the tension. But his mind was already turning, piecing together the clues. He couldn't let it slide. Not when she was still under his care, no matter how much she tried to push him away.
Harumi didn't respond, and the silence stretched between them once more. Her steps grew slower, her shoulders hunched just a fraction more as if the weight of their conversation was starting to settle in. She glanced around at the guards and other prisoners who watched them pass, her eyes briefly narrowing as she adjusted the posture that had become so familiar to her. It was clear she didn't want to show any sign of weakness, even in front of him. Lloyd couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Harumi's subtle changes—her unease, the discomfort when talking about food, the way her eyes darted to the guards—were all red flags. But he couldn't push her too hard. Not now. If he wanted to help her, he needed to gain her trust, and that meant respecting the walls she had built, even if it meant walking in circles around the truth.
They walked in silence for a few moments, the tension between them thick, before Lloyd broke the quiet again. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but I have to ask—are you being treated well here? Really?"
Harumi's eyes shot to his, and for a split second, Lloyd thought she might snap, but instead, she looked away, her jaw tightening. She didn't answer right away. Instead, she glanced at the guards again, as if calculating the risk of responding.
"I'm fine," she muttered, her voice tight with something Lloyd couldn't quite place. It was her default answer, and he wasn't fooled.
"Rumi, please don't lie to me. I want to help you, and just because what you did was awful that does not mean that you deserve to be treated less than human." Lloyd's voice softened, his plea sincere. "You deserve respect, just like anyone else. You deserve to be treated like you matter."
Harumi spun around on her heel to snap back at him but that proved to be a mistake as her legs gave out beneath her and she fell into Lloyd's arms. Lloyd caught her without hesitation, his arms steadying her as she stumbled. Her body felt lighter than he expected, and the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her prison uniform told him she wasn't in peak health. His heart clenched.
"Harumi," he said gently, concern lacing his voice as he eased her into a sitting position on a nearby bench. "Are you okay?"
She didn't answer immediately, her breathing uneven as she tried to compose herself. For a moment, the wall she kept so carefully constructed seemed to crack, her vulnerability slipping through like light through a broken window. But just as quickly, she schooled her expression, her voice sharp and defensive.
"I'm fine," she said, though her words rang hollow. She tried to pull away, but Lloyd kept a steady hand on her shoulder.
"No, you're not." His tone was firm, but not unkind. "You're exhausted. You're not eating enough, are you?"
Her silence was telling. She stared at the ground, her fists clenched tightly in her lap. "It's nothing I can't handle," she muttered finally, but there was no conviction behind her words.
Lloyd sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This isn't handling it, Harumi. This is surviving. There's a difference." Harumi's gaze flickered upward, meeting Lloyd's for a brief moment. There was something raw and unguarded in her eyes, something that told him she wanted to argue, to push him away, but couldn't muster the strength. She dropped her head again, her hair falling like a curtain to shield her face.
"This isn't your problem," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You shouldn't even be here."
Lloyd crouched down in front of her, his hands resting on his knees as he tried to catch her eyes. "That's where you're wrong," he said softly. "You are my problem, Harumi. I chose to be here. I'm not walking away from you, no matter how much you think you don't deserve it."
Harumi flinched at his words, the emotion behind them striking a nerve she didn't know was still exposed. She pressed her lips together, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the fabric of her uniform. For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of her guilt wasn't crushing her—it was his unwavering presence that was.
"Why?" she finally asked, her voice breaking slightly. "Why do you care so much? After everything I did, after everything I took from you—why can't you just hate me?"
Lloyd's expression softened, and he reached out, gently placing a hand over hers. "Honestly I don't have an answer. I wish I did. I wish I could say it's simple, that it makes sense, but it doesn't. All I know is that I can't hate you, Harumi. Believe me, I tried. After everything, I wanted to. But every time I look at you, I see someone who's trying—someone who's broken but still standing. And I can't turn my back on that."
Harumi's breath hitched, and for a moment, she didn't know how to respond. The walls she had built so carefully around herself trembled under the weight of his words. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and yet…safe. The kind of safety she hadn't felt in years.
Standing up, Lloyd slowly helped her back to her feet and guided her back inside despite her protests. "I think it's best if you get some rest. I'm going to go talk to the warden and see what can be done to improve things here for you." His tone was calm but resolute, leaving no room for argument. Harumi stiffened at his words, her steps faltering slightly.
"Lloyd, don't," she said quickly, her voice edged with panic. "It'll only make things worse."
He paused, turning to face her. "Worse? Harumi, if they're treating you like this—if they're starving you or doing anything else—they need to be held accountable. I can't just stand by and let this happen."
She shook her head vehemently, her hair falling into her face again. "You don't get it. These guards—they'll retaliate if you stir things up. I can handle it. I've handled worse."
The casual way she said it made Lloyd's stomach turn. He clenched his fists, fighting back the surge of anger bubbling within him—not at her, but at the situation. At how broken the system was. At how much she'd been forced to endure.
"You shouldn't have to handle worse, Harumi," he said softly, his voice firm but laced with compassion. "You've been through enough. This place… it's supposed to help you rebuild, not tear you down even more."
She looked away, her lips pressed into a thin line. Her silence spoke volumes, a reluctant admission of just how deep the problem ran. Lloyd sighed, his hand briefly brushing against her arm in a gesture of reassurance.
"Listen," he said gently. "I'll be careful. I won't mention your name, and I won't make it obvious that it's about you. But I can't stay silent, Harumi. You deserve better than this."
Her expression wavered the cracks in her armor widening. "I don't know if I can trust you to keep it quiet," she admitted, her voice barely audible. "You're too…honest."
He chuckled softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I'll take that as a compliment. But I promise, Rumi, I'll handle this the right way. You have my word."
Reluctantly, she nodded, though the unease in her eyes didn't fade. Lloyd guided her the rest of the way back inside, making sure she was settled in the infirmary before heading off to find the warden. As he walked through the sterile halls of the prison, his mind raced with plans. He needed to approach this strategically—without exposing Harumi or making her situation worse.
When he finally reached Warden Nobel's office, he took a deep breath to steady himself before stepping inside. The warden looked up from his desk with mild curiosity. "Are you already done visiting? What else can I do for you?"
Lloyd didn't waste time getting straight to the point. "I have some concerns about the treatment of some of the inmates here," Lloyd began, his tone even but resolute. "Specifically, I believe some of your guards may be mistreating prisoners."
Warden Nobel leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "That's a serious accusation," he said slowly, his fingers steepling. "We run a tight ship here, Mr. Garmadon. All of my guards are trained to uphold the law and treat inmates with the basic dignity they're entitled to."
"And yet," Lloyd replied, keeping his voice calm, "it seems like that's not always the case. I've noticed some troubling signs—poor physical condition, malnourishment, fear of retaliation. These aren't things that happen in a well-run facility."
The warden's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze sharpening. "Do you have evidence? Specific complaints from an inmate?"
Lloyd shook his head. "Not yet. But do you really think anyone would feel safe enough to come forward? Especially if they think they'll face punishment for speaking up?"
The warden sighed, leaning forward again. "You're asking me to investigate my own staff based on vague observations and no concrete evidence. That's not how this works."
"I understand that," Lloyd said firmly. "I'm not asking for a witch hunt. All I'm asking is that you start paying closer attention. Observe your guards more closely. Talk to inmates—privately, without guards present. You might find more than you expect."
Nobel studied Lloyd for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. "You care about this more than most visitors," he said finally. "Why?"
Lloyd hesitated, weighing his words carefully. "Because I believe in second chances. And I believe that people can't change if the system set up to rehabilitate them is just breaking them further. Everyone deserves to be treated with basic decency—no matter what they've done."
The warden's gaze softened just slightly, though his face remained stern. "I'll see what I can do. But I make no promises. Running a facility like this isn't easy, and sometimes… sacrifices have to be made."
"Sacrifices shouldn't include human dignity," Lloyd said quietly, standing his ground. "Thank you for hearing me out."
With that, he turned and left the office, his thoughts heavy but his resolve firm. As much as he wanted to trust the warden, he knew change wouldn't come easily. But he also knew he couldn't give up—not on Harumi, and not on anyone else enduring the same mistreatment.