Legends of Ninjago: Book 3: The Four Fangs: Chapter 9 — Hey, Dad

“Cole?”

“Hey, dad,” Cole tried to say in the most totally-relaxed-and-not-at-all-stressed-out way possible. “How long has it been, huh?”

“You’re here,” he said blankly. Cole couldn’t tell if that meant he was surprised or upset or just gassy.

“Yup,” he replied.

“You’re taller.”

“Maybe a bit.”

There was a pause.

“So, you come all this way to see your old man and you can’t spend two minutes to call ahead?” His moustache was twitching, just like it always did when he was agitated.

Cole sighed. “Yeah, I’m sorry, Dad, things got a little… hectic on the way over here, and…”

Then his dad started laughing. “Oh, Cole, I don’t mind. It’s just so good to see you! Did they finally let you out for winter break?” He hobbled over to him for a hug that Cole was definitely not expecting. “Had I known what a prison that school had turned into, I might not have sent you to the old Marty Oppenheimer! Ha ha!”

Cole blinked. That’s right. Wu had said that he had taken care of things way back when. So he still thought Cole was in school. He gave a nervous laugh of his own as some of his anxiety left him… and was immediately replaced with a different flavour of anxiety.

“Who’s that?” His dad asked, letting go of him and pointing his cane out toward the street. He turned and glanced back at the others, waiting and watching him from the sidewalk. Jay waved stupidly. “Are they friends of yours?”

“What? Oh—uh—they,” Cole panicked, but it was far, far too late now.

“What are they doing standing out in the cold like that? Didn’t I teach you any manners?” He shuffled on past him and called out, before Cole could stop him, “Hello! Come on in! Don’t be shy!”

“Dad, please, they don’t need to—“

“You expect me to let them freeze? Honestly, what would your mother say?”

Cole combed both hands through his hair frantically as he watched the others make their way across the street, looking very confused. This was not happening. This was so not happening.

“Hello there, I’m Liu Becket, Cole’s father,” he said, extending his hand to the nearest person, that being Ann.

Holy cow, this was happening.

“Dad, if we just go inside, I wanted to talk to—“

“Exactly. Everyone, please, come inside! I’ll put the kettle on and we can chat in the living room,” he said, hardly hearing a word Cole was trying to say. “And where have you been, by the way? You smell like smoke and sea scum.”

“We were… camping,” Cole mumbled, not that his dad heard. He was already halfway across the foyer.

Inside they went, wiping their feet, taking off their shoes, and hanging up their jackets, per the normal Becket house ritual, before FINALLY making it to the open kitchen where Mr. Becket was prepping the water for tea. Cole intentionally tried to leave the others behind in the foyer so he could talk to his father in private, but they followed relatively quickly, not entirely sure of what else to do.

“So, Dad—“

“Well, don’t just stand there, Cole. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Cole had to resist strangling something. “Keaton, Kai, Nya, Jay, Zane, Ann Jing, meet my dad. Dad, meet Keaton, Kai, Nya, Jay, Zane, and Ann Jing. Now—“

“And what are all of your acts?” Liu carried on. “I assume you all attend the same school? Wait, don’t tell me—the four of you boys are quartet, right?”

Cole could feel everyone’s confused stares growing more intense by the minute, and that’s when it dawned on him that he never actually told any of them that he had been going to a performing arts school before joining Wu. They literally had no idea what was going on.

“Uh, right! Ha! Yeah! A barbershop quartet,” Cole forced out, not being able to think of anything else to say. Zane, Kai, and Jay were now throwing worried looks in Cole’s direction. Then he gave a loud cough and a pointed look at his teammates. “Right guys?”

Jay, who was standing closest to Cole, was the first to open his mouth. “Oh yeah, totally, totally. I do a mean bowl cut.” Cole elbowed him in the side. “Er! I mean, bowl… quartet. I can… quartet.”

Cole wanted to die. He actually wanted the floor to open up and eat him right then and there. Be taken into the void and have his suffering ended.

The tea kettle started whistling and Liu took it off the heat before retrieving the porcelain tea pot. “And what about you three lovely ladies? What do you do?”

“Uuum…” Ann hesitated, darting her eyes at Cole, clearly signalling for help.

“We’re dancers!” Keaton blurted. Ann’s stare was so subtle yet so deadly.

“Oh really?” Liu looked very pleased. “Which type of dance do you major in?”

“Ballroom,” Cole cut in, thinking that it would be the easiest to fake, potentially. Better than ballet, at least.

“I don’t dance, though,” Nya said quickly, clearly very uncomfortable. “I’m more into… acting.” She looked over at Cole as she said that last part.

“Ah. Well, nobody’s perfect,” said Liu, turning back to the others. “So how did you all meet?”

Cole gave another light cough. “Well, at the Marty Oppenheimer of course, heh heh.” Zane seemed to get it, Kai was almost there, and Jay looked completely lost. “We were in the same workshop and, uh…”

“We kinda… ran into each other, so to speak,” Kai jumped in. It took Cole a moment to realise that he was referring to how they had actually met.

“And we discovered that we all had a lot in common,” said Zane as Liu began to pour the tea.

“And we combined our radical skills to take down our quartet rivals, the Surfers, in an epic showdown!” Jay exclaimed with way too much confidence. Everyone in the room stared at him for a good five seconds.

“The… Surfers?” Liu repeated.

“Yeah,” Jay nodded, completely oblivious to how utterly ridiculous he sounded. “They, uh, they love surfing.”

“And what is your group called?”

Cole would have jumped on the question, saying something smart like, “we haven’t decided yet,” but once again, Jay proved his worth as the biggest blabbermouth in the room.

“The Spinners,” he said without missing a beat.

“…Spinners,” said Liu. “Because you… like to spin?”

“We haven’t settled on a name yet,” Cole quickly amended, giving Jay a sharp glance.

“Well that’s a relief,” Liu muttered as he placed the tea cups on a tray and urged everyone to sit down in the living room. Cole took the couch seat closest to his dad’s favourite arm chair so he would be between him and his friends. Hopefully at this angle, his dad wouldn’t be able to see him strangle Jay.

As Liu passed out the tea cups, Cole noticed how much he was relying on that new cane of his to support what appeared to be a limp in his right leg. Once he was firmly in his armchair, he asked, “Hey Dad… what happened to your leg?”

“Ah, not the leg, the foot,” he corrected, gesturing to his limb. “Happened over the summer, actually. Me and the boys had gotten back together to perform for a charity benefit in Fallon Falls—did my son tell you about my musical group?” He flashed his stage smile, the one he always wore during shows and after-parties and benefits. Cole always hated that smile.

“Um, he did mention it, yes,” Zane said politely.

“Well, we were trying to do something new to dust off the old cobwebs, as it were—Carlton had suggested we try the Samba, but Lenard came up with the brilliant idea of mixing the cha-cha with west coast swing. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, and it was coming along better than I could have possibly hoped, but our musical accompaniment—specifically the percussionist—I swear he had it out for me, because opening night, during my solo, up flies his drum stick, onto the stage, I slip on it, and I roll my ankle. Doctor said I just needed to give it a few weeks—four months later, I’m still hobbling around on this thing,” he pointed to the cane he had leaning against the arm of his chair.

Cole rubbed his eyes and sighed. “I told you you should’ve retired years ago.”

“And sit at home alone for the rest of my life? I’ve been doing enough of that with this gimpy foot of mine, and let me tell you, that’s no life for me!” He looked over the group and didn’t seem keen on bringing up old arguments in front of company, thus his stage smile returned. “So what brings you all here, anyway? Are you staying for the Winter Festival?”

“No,” said Cole, right as Jay said, “yes.” “We can’t. We’ve got a, uh, research paper due on the history of Ninjago talent.”

Liu’s eyes lit up. “So you came to see one of the best, I take it? Very good taste, I must say. Although, to be fair you’ve always had that. You should have seen him when he picked out his first tuxedo—ran straight for the Giorgio Armani—“

“Dad! Heh heh, not that I don’t thoroughly enjoy reliving childhood memories in front of my friends, but we actually came here to ask you about the National Performing Arts Competition.”

“Oh,” was all Liu said as the light seemed to fade from his eyes. “What did you want to know?”

He took a breath, not entirely sure what his father’s reaction would be. “We were curious about… getting our hands on the Blade Cup. I know you’ve won it a few times. Is there any way that maybe… you could let us see it?”

Liu’s eyes widened. “You’re talking about the Blade Cup? The most prized and heavily guarded award in all of Ninjago—the symbol of excellence in harmony and grace?”

‘Oh boy, here we go,’ Cole thought.

“You can’t ‘just get it’ you have to earn it. You have to exhibit style. Perfect pitch. Push the boundaries of artistic license and win this year’s National Performing Arts Competition!”

“Wait—what!?” Cole cried. His dad was prone to being dramatic, sure, but this seemed like a stretch too far.

“Yes! Yes, can’t you just picture it! Cole Becket, son of legendary Liu Becket, takes home a second generation of Blade Cup gold!” Liu had his arms in the air, like he was a conductor orchestrating his fantasy before his eyes. “It would make headlines!”

“Yes, but we can’t compete in a national competition, Dad!” Cole countered, rising a little in his seat. “We only have three weeks until it starts! We can’t just drop in!”

“I have a friend on the judges’ panel, I’m sure they can make an exception,” said Liu, reclining and taking a sip of tea.

“We don’t even have an act!”

“Well, there’s four of you, isn’t there? Perform as a quartet.”

“We can’t scramble an act together in three weeks!”

“Not alone, no…” he stared into his tea cup and for a moment Cole thought that maybe he’d finally managed to knock some sense into him. Apparently not. “But with me here coaching you, it’ll be a cake walk!”

Cole let his head sink into his hands. This was even worse than his worst nightmare.

“My son, bringing forth the next evolution of the Royal Blacksmiths! Show me what you can do!”

Cole’s head snapped up.

“Come on, now, don’t be shy! Let me hear the sweet, sweet sound of harmony.”

Cole made to send a warning glare in Jay’s direction, but he was already clearing his throat. ‘Jay, don’t you dare—‘

“Harmonyyyyy,” he sang, mostly on key, though even to the untrained ear, you could still tell that he had barely sung a note in his life. Then Zane joined in, harmonising with Jay’s sustained note.

“Hamronyyyyyyy.” To be fair, he sounded a lot more stable than Jay, but it was drowned out by the sound of Kai’s bat screech of a,

“HARmonyyyyyyyyyyyy!”

Both Cole and Liu had to grit their teeth as the whole thing fell apart right then and there.

“Stop. Just… stop. This is a disaster. Is this really your quartet?” Liu asked, frowning. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting the Ritz, but this is…”

“Dad, I know it’s not great—Kai has… asthma—” Kai glared at him, “—and sometimes his wimpy lungs can’t hit certain notes, but this isn’t about competing—“ Kai glared even harder.

“Well how can you call yourselves a quartet when you can barely hold a half-decent harmony?” Liu went on. “I mean, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say none of you even attend the Marty Oppenheimer.”

Cole felt his chest tighten. “No, no, no, Dad, you gotta understand—“

“Ocean daughter, lay your head, sleeping, dreaming, in your bed….”

The room seemed to freeze as it turned on its heel and cast its gaze on Ann Jing. That voice just now… that had sounded like the most delicate, angelic voice Cole had ever heard… there’s no way it had come from her.

“Don’t stop, my dear,” Liu urged.

Ann glanced around at them all, her checks flushing terribly, but kept her breath even and finished the verse.

“…Rest, my love, in waters deep, and pray your waves flow home to me.”

“Extraordinary,” said Liu, his stage smile quickly returning. “My dear, why on Earth have you been in ballroom all this time? Cole, forget the quartet. You’ll be singing a duet. There’s a showstopper right there, and make no mistake.”

“You mean Ann’s gonna be on tv?” Keaton cried, beaming from ear to ear.

“Absolutely she will,” said Liu, matching her smile.

“Now that is something I’d love to see,” Nya said slowly, a grin rising on her face as well.

Cole was speechless. The whole universe was conspiring against him. There was no way he was going to get back into that monkey suit and parade around on stage with his former crush in front of thousands of people.

“Dad. We just need to see that trophy,” he said quietly, almost begging.

“And you will see it. When you’ve won the National Performing Arts Competition!” Liu seemed very happy with himself, meanwhile Cole was ready to start digging his own grave. “Now, what did you say your name was, my dear?”

“Ann Jing,” she replied.

“Ann Jing. Lovely name. How long exactly have you been doing ballroom?” He looked like he was already concocting a scheme and was ready to rise out of his chair.

“Not very long,” Ann said carefully. “Just a few years.”

Liu rubbed his chin. “Mmm, not a lot to work with, and we’ll want to do something a bit more spectacular if we’re—I mean—if you’re going to win.” Then he snapped his fingers. “I’ve got just the thing! Have you ever heard of The Triple Tiger Sashay?”

Hearing that name triggered something deep inside Cole. An image of a small boy, falling face first into the floor of a stage and giving himself a bloody nose. “Dad. No.”

“What’s the Triple Tiger Sashay?” Kai asked hesitantly.

“Only the single most ridiculously impossible dance move in the whole history of dance moves,” Cole grumbled, glaring at his father.

“It’s true. Many professionals have attempted it. Few survive,” said Liu, looking wistful.

“Oh, so I guess that’s why you thought it would be a good idea to have a seven-year-old attempt to perform it?”

“If you’re going to win, you need to go big, son. You’ve had years to train since then, I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it.”

Liu just went on sipping his tea as if what he had just said hadn’t been the most impossible request any parent could make of their child. He was nowhere near that level, and he hadn’t been practising for over a year. There was no way—not a single way—that this hair-brained scheme was ever going to work.

“I am not about to fall on my face on national television,” Cole said in the most serious tone he could muster. “You couldn’t pay me to.”

Just then, he felt something nudge him in the side.

“But for the honour of winning the Blade Cup,” Jay said, completely casually (not).

“I’m sure you could make an exception?” Zane pressed, with far more subtlety than Jay.

He stared at them. They stared back.

The memory of the Serpentine flickered in his mind. What they were capable of, what they had already done, and what they were planning on doing at this very moment. He thought about Scales. Imprisoning innocent people in their own minds just for the fun of it. The Serpentine needed to be stopped, and if these old blades were what they were after…

He really, really, really, really, really, really, REALLY hated how little of a choice he had right now.

“Well, alright, I suppose the TTS is asking a bit much,” Liu relented. “How do you feel about Capoeira?”

“Dad!” Cole cried, exasperated.

“Alright, alright. Your pick, Rumba or Foxtrot.”

“Foxtrot,” said Cole, staring hopelessly at the carpet.

“Done,” Liu replied, and he set his cup down as he rose from his seat. “Alright, come along now, we haven’t a moment to lose!”

“Where are you going?” Cole asked, not moving.

“To the studio! We only have four weeks! You need all the practise you can get!” He was out of sight before they could blink. For having a limp, the guy sure could move fast.

Cole grabbed his head, feeling a headache coming on. “I’m sorry, guys. My dad… he’s a bit…”

“Nuts?” Jay offered.

Cole chuckled. “Yeah.”

“Forget the old miser; since when can you sing?” Kai asked, looking at Ann. Her mouth went up and down, searching for the right words, and then she scowled.

“It was just an old lullaby I know. I panicked. But I don’t know how comfortable I am with all of this performing stuff. Your dad’s not really serious, is he?” Her eyes were practically like little orbs of condensed alarm, buried beneath a brow of worry.

“Does Wu have a long white beard?” Cole replied.

“Ladies! Come on! We’re losing daylight!” Liu called from across the house.

“You know, you don’t have to do this,” said Cole, stopping everyone just as they got off the couches. “I can just call it off right now if you’re not comfortable.” He tried to mean it for everyone, but his eyes lingered on Ann especially.

“Well, does anyone else have any brilliant ideas for how to get close to the Blade Cup?” Nya asked. No one spoke up. “Besides, as long as we get what we came for, we can invent any number of excuses as to why you can’t perform, right? Stomach flu, sprained ankle, I mean take your pick.”

“The woman raises a fine point,” said Jay. “Besides, Cole dancing? This I gotta see.”

“Yeah, when were you gonna tell us about your secret double life, twinkle toes?” Kai said playfully as he walked passed.

Cole closed his eyes as the nickname replayed in his head. “Yeah, very funny,” he muttered sourly. He got up and shoved his way by the others, beelining it for the dance studio down the hall. They thought dancing was cute, huh? Well they were about to see how “cute” fifteen years worth of training could be. Besides, there were no punching bags nearby (except maybe Jay) so there was no other way he could think of to get his frustration out at the moment.

He marched into the studio, ripped off his crusty, smelly, long sleeve shirt, and reached for the closet in the far wall. There were several spare t-shirts hanging up in there, just the way they’d been when he’d left. He grabbed one and shoved it over his head right as everyone started filing in. Liu was over by the boom box, selecting a CD.

“In the Mood or La Vie en Rose?” Liu asked, holding up two shiny disks.

“Just pick one,” Cole grumbled. He bent low to stretch out his leg muscles and, for a moment, it felt as though he had stepped back in time. The smell of the studio, the morning light streaming in from the windows, the image of his father by the stereo… for better or worse, it all looked exactly the same.

“Alright then. Let’s start simple, just to see where you’re at,” said Liu, turning around. The music came to life behind him, playing an old fashioned tune with just enough life in it for it to be considered “fun.”

Cole straightened his legs and remembered suddenly that this was meant to be a duet. Ann was still standing with the group, awkwardly darting her eyes between Cole and his father, not knowing what to do. This was going to be… interesting. He relaxed his shoulders and tried to get back into “stage mode.” He’d danced with dozens of girls over the course of his education, it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Or tune out, at the very least.

“Come on,” he said quietly, extending his arm to her while his eyes studied the floor at her feet. She walked over, doing her best to seem natural, and when she had taken his hand, Cole gently led her to stand right in front of him. Then he whispered, “Okay. Right hand in mine, left arm on my shoulder, and push firmly. Don’t overthink. Just follow my lead.” He knew this rapid fire instruction was not going to be easy to digest, and there was a moment when Ann just stared at him, a million potential thoughts flying around behind those deep blue eyes, but then, as if she were a computer that had just finished processing, she grasped his hand, placed her arm firmly on his, and her breath settled. She gave a slight nod—Cole’s queue to start.

It took every ounce of inner strength for his brain not to shut down as he realised how very very close they were right now. How perfectly his hand cupped her back or how small her fingers felt against his. But he could not afford to get distracted right now, so he forced his eyes to stay away from her.

Giving one last glance to his father, he waited for a good time to dive into the music, then muscle memory took over. They started with simple footwork, just so that Ann had a moment to get familiar with it, and to her credit she was managing to keep up with him, albeit just barely. If they weren’t careful, there would be a lot squished toes. After a few slow, long steps, Cole led her into a spin. She gave a small yelp of surprise, but she was more or less following his lead. She didn’t look polished—not even close—but she also wasn’t a complete mess, which Cole was immensely grateful for. Part of that was due to his experience with leading. He was able to make it crystal clear, through his movements, which way he intended for the both of them to go, and as long as he remained confident, she would be able to follow without confusion or hesitation.

Back into closed position they went, with a little clumsiness as she tried to get her arm back onto his shoulder smoothly, then he led her into the next move. He instantly wished he had taken a moment to put on his dancing shoes as he heard his current kicks squeak against the polished wood floor, but they would just have to do.

Any time Cole, against his better judgment, glanced at Ann, she had this adorable deer-in-headlights look on her face. Every turn, every spin, every walk across the floor, she squeaked or yipped with the sudden change in direction, or the rush of momentum. She wasn’t exactly doing a whole lot to sell herself as someone who’d been training in ballroom for several years, but then again, maybe his dad would just assume that she was a mediocre dancer, or that the teachers had been teaching her all wrong. That seemed like something he would do.

Speaking of his dad, he could feel the man’s scrutinising gaze from halfway across the room. It made it a million times harder to concentrate, not that he really needed to concentrate very much. It felt almost as if he’d never stopped dancing. In fact, he was getting a little too comfortable and spun Ann just a little too hard, completely surprising her, and she tripped over her own feet. For one terrible moment Cole that thought that she might fall, but, gripping his hand a little tighter, she caught herself with a modified Spinjitsu stance that looked very dramatic. He led her back into closed position as quickly as possible, hoping his father hadn’t found that too unusual.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

They went back into a sway step, but this time, Ann seemed a little bit more confident. Or was it angry? Whatever it was, it felt more like she was going after each move as best as she could, keeping solid footing that looked suspiciously like their ninjitsu training.

The song came to a loud, brassy finish, and so Cole ended the performance with one last spin, striking something of a pose right as Liu turned off the boom box. Overall, it hadn’t gone too terribly. They defiantly lacked passion and finesse, but they’d managed to get through it without falling over or stepping on each others’ toes. He quickly dipped his head and thanked Ann for the dance, per standard ballroom etiquette, keeping his eyes on the floor.

“Not bad, not bad at all,” said Liu as he politely clapped his hands. “It needs work, of course. I take it the two of you have never been paired before?” They shook their heads as they awkwardly took one more small step away from one another. “Don’t feel too badly, my dear,” he said to Ann. “There are few ladies who can keep up with a talent like my Cole.”

“Dad—“

“Don’t be so modest, son. You’re one of the best dancers of your generation, and that’s a fact. Your trophy shelf is a perfect testament.”

Liu went on a bit more—something about a rehearsal schedule—while Cole dragged a hand down his face trying to remember how the heck he had gotten here, and why he wasn’t just bolting for the door. However, just then he looked over at the others who had been watching from the side of the room. They were a perfect collection of raised eyebrows and gaping jaws, and for that one moment, Cole actually felt kind of cool for being a dancer.

“Now, a Foxtrot routine is elegant, but it doesn’t really dazzle now does it?” Liu was pacing now, a wild look in his eye. “We need to go bigger—bolder—I’ve got it! An entire floor show! Choreographed by yours truly! You four—“ he pointed a finger at Kai, Jay, Zane and Keaton who suddenly looked like cornered animals, “—can you manage some synchronised backup dancing?”

Their blank expressions painted a very clear picture.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter, I’ll teach you. Everyone, out on the floor! Come on, chop chop, this is no time for dilly dallying.”

Cole couldn’t help but smile as his friends slowly detached themselves from the wall and slunk out onto the floor, completely unaware of what they were in for.

“Spike and Blondie, you two stand here—Pigtails and Spinner, you go there, opposite to them. Then Cole, Ann Jing, stand in front of them, center stage!” He took a step back to admire the scene before him. You could practically see the stars in his eyes. “We just might have a chance.”

“Umm, what will I be doing?” Nya asked, stepping around her brother.

“You said your major was acting? Well I can’t manage the costumes, sets and paperwork all by myself, now can I?” He smiled. Nya did not.

“Costumes?!” Keaton cried, bouncing on her tip toes.

“Costumes??” Everyone else said, backing up a bit.

“Oh, something simple, of course,” Liu waved their concerns away. “But classy, too. White tie suits and a glamorous gown for our leading lady I think. Oh! We could put together a Noir Ninjago City/Night of Glamour set with a big backdrop and Winter Fest lanterns!”

“Dad, slow down, there’s no way we can do all that in four weeks,” Cole urged, knowing full well that this plan was going to implode long before it even got started.

“I can call in some favours,” Liu said, shrugging the comment off. “But we can handle that later. Right now, we need hammer out that choreography! Let’s get to work, people!”

Cole let out one last sigh while he still could. This was going to be a loooong three weeks.

* * *

Two hours later, they had blocked out the rough idea of what the show was going to be, despite Mr. Becket’s many attempts at reworking the entire thing. Liu had chosen a song called “This Could Be the Start of Something Big” for Cole and Ann to both dance and sing to, while acting out the lyrics to a degree, and the other four would weave in and out of the background singing some minor backup vocals at important high points. Except Kai. Liu had singled him out and very firmly said, “You. Don’t sing.”

They were running through a basic opening bit that Liu was still debating whether or not to go with, but they kept needing to stop because the less experienced dancers in the group were constantly having troubles.

“Darling, you gotta let the music flow!” He was saying to Keaton. “Spike, love the energy, hate the hair. Spinner, you’re giving a lot, but I need more! Blondie, you’re like a machine! Don’t change anything. And Cole, please try to act like you want to be here.”

Cole could feel his jaw tighten and his eyeballs were begging to roll back. The best he could manage in front of everyone was a scowl.

“He’s worse than Sensei Wu!” Jay whispered to Keaton.

Liu went on, clapping his hands. “Alright, moving forward. Let’s take a look at the big, show-stopping climax. Cole, we can’t have history repeating itself.”

“Dad… it was the Triple Tiger Sashay. I was seven,” Cole growled for the second time that day.

“Then we shouldn’t have a problem,” Liu smiled. “Now then! I’m thinking big lights, big energy, big, dazzling choreography! Ann, dear, how comfortable are you with doing an aerial?”

Ann blinked, but thankfully Cole came to the rescue. “That’s not even Foxtrot.”

“Well then why don’t we change to Lindy Hop? That would ‘wow’ the judges for sure!” Liu pressed, lost in his daydreams.

“First it was Foxtrot, then Samba, then North Coast Swing, then back to Foxtrot—make up your mind! We’ve been at this for over two hours,” said Cole in a particularly grouchy tone.

“You’re right. Take five everyone! I’ll go grab some refreshments!” Liu spun around and walked out of the room, presumably heading for the kitchen. Finally a moment to breathe.

Ann felt like she was deflating as she sunk against the wall, letting her legs stretch out and her feet rest. People really did this for fun?

“Thanks for hanging in there,” Cole said to her as he sat down a few feet away, though his gaze remained distant. “I know my dad isn’t the easiest person to deal with.”

“Thanks. It’s just until we can see the trophy, right?” Said Ann, trying to lift her own spirits.

“It’s still three weeks,” he reminded her.

Her head plopped against the wood of the wall and she stared up at the ceiling. She knew she wasn’t much of a dancer. She could feel it when they’d been out on the floor. She was stiff. Always falling behind. There was no way she’d be getting up on that stage come Winter Fest. What had they just gotten themselves into?

“I don’t think I can do this,” she said quietly. She could feel Cole’s eyes on her. “I’m not a dancer, I’m a fighter. Your dad will figure it out too, sooner or later.”

Cole didn’t say anything.

“That was a nice show you put on, tender taps,” Jay quipped, sitting down.

“Your one to talk, Spinner,” Cole muttered, rolling his eyes. “Look, just try not to embarrass me long enough for us to get our hands on the Blade Cup, okay?”

“I dunno, I’m starting to think that maybe we could win this thing,” said Kai with a sly grin. “I mean, after all, with this much raw talent of yours, first place should be a breeze, right?”

“Don’t let my Dad’s show boating fool you,” Cole groaned, “This is Nationals. Not some grade school talent show. There are acts from all over Ninjago, from tango to ballet, opera to acrobatics and everything in between. And they’ve been training for years. We’d be lucky if we make it passed preliminaries.”

“Your dad seems so confident, though,” said Keaton.

“Yeah, well, over-confident is more accurate.”

“So how come you never brought all this up before?” Jay asked “I mean, not a single mention of the fact that you’re some sort of dancing prodigy?”

Cole sighed and stared out the window for a few seconds. “It’s complicated,” he eventually said. Then his eyes slowly fell to the floor and he slumped his shoulders.

Liu entered the room again, bringing a tray of lemonade and a stream of small talk with him. He passed the drinks out with that movie star grin of his, and as Ann sipped on her drink, looking around the warm studio, seeing everyone chatting and laughing and having something to think about other than saving all of Ninjago… it was kind of… nice. Liu was a far cry from Wu, and sometimes even a little scary with how forward he was, but there also something infectious about his upbeat attitude that you just couldn’t help but like. Most of the time.

“Alright, I’ve officially decided this time,” he said, sounding very emphatic. “We’ll do a mixture of Foxtrot and Swing—incorporating several aerials. It’s no Triple Tiger Sashay, but I’d bet my bottom dollar it’ll score us a few extra points.”

Ann leaned a little closer to Cole and whispered, “What exactly is an ‘aerial?’”

“I swing you into the air… more or less,” he said, looking apologetic.

Great. That didn’t sound difficult or dangerous at all. Then again, she’d done crazier things on the battle field, so maybe it wouldn’t be that bad? Hypothetically. Oh who was she kidding, this was going to be torture.

“But let’s use this break to practise the vocals,” Liu said, crossing the room and reaching for the power button on the stereo. For crying out loud, did this guy ever stop? She was getting tired just watching him.

“Cole, Ann, come here for a moment, would you?”

The two of them came and stood by the stereo just as Mr. Becket popped in the CD. He handed them two sheets of paper with all the words to the song written out and highlighted.

“When did—?” Ann started.

“I took the liberty of getting these all printed up for you,” said Liu proudly. “Ann, your lines are in blue, Cole, yours are in yellow.”

Ann glanced at her teammate, then back to Liu, and wondered how the two of them could possibly be related.

“Ready?”

The music started and Ann shoved the paper into her face, trying to find the part where she came in.

“Uh, your walking along the street, or you’re at a party,” she sang, trying to match the voice in the recording. It was a lot faster than her lullaby. “Or else you’re alone and then you suddenly dig.” Cole was singing with her in this part, and she would never have pegged him for the singing type, but he actually sounded decent. He was no Frank Sinatra or anything, but he was pleasant to listen to.

“You’re lookin’ in someone’s eyes, you suddenly realise… that this could be the start of something big.” Well these lyrics didn’t make any sense. What else could you possibly “realise” besides the other person’s eye colour? And exactly what was the “start of something big?” Would that be revealed later on in the lyrics?

It took several more verses before Ann realised that this was actually a love song, although so much of the lyrics still read like gobbledygook to her and she was relieved when it was over. Then Liu started it again, hoping that the second time around they would sound a bit more polished. She felt her spirits sink as she slowly realised that she would be listing to this one song a lot in the coming days.

‘It’s just until we can see the trophy, it’s just until we can see the trophy,’ she chanted in her head.

* * *

The end of the day couldn’t have come soon enough. Over the course of the last five hours, Liu had somehow blocked out the rough choreography for the entire show (barring several parts which he was still debating or playing with) and everyone wanted nothing more than to head back to the ship and collapse in their beds.

“Well, this was… fun, but we really should be going,” Cole said the second he found a gap in his father’s endless stream of dialogue. “We’d hate to impose.” He had just started corralling the others toward the door when Liu stopped them.

“Wait, you mean you’re not going to stay for dinner? I was going to make my famous zhajiangmian.”

“Oooh, that pork and soy bean noodle dish?” Jay asked, verbally drooling.

Cole closed his eyes. Why even bother trying at this point? He might as well ask them to stay the night too!

“While we’re at it, where are you all staying tonight?” Mr. Becket asked, coming a little closer to the group.

“We… have a motel room in town,” said Nya.

Cole began banging his head against the nearest wall, unconcerned with how insane he both looked and felt.

“A hotel room?! My son and his friends staying at some rinky-dink motel?! I simply will not have it,” Liu announced, placing his cane firmly on the ground for emphasis. “The guest rooms are at your disposal.”

“Really?” Keaton asked, sounding more hopeful than she’d been in a long time.

“Absolutely. In fact, why don’t you all head upstairs and freshen up while I get started on the food, huh?” Liu smiled.

The group of ninjas (namely Jay and Keaton) erupted with excitement, yelling “thank you!” over their shoulders as they raced up the stairs, Ann trailing behind them grumbling something about “a pack of wild monkeys.”

“The second and third doors on the left!” Liu called after them. Out of the corner of his eye, Cole could see his father’s stage smile fade. “You know, you really could stand to tone down the dramatics.”

“Riiiight. I’m the one who needs to be less dramatic,” Cole droned, watching Liu go passed, en route to the kitchen. If he did hear, he made no sign. He just watched the old man hobble his way down the hall while the excited voices of his friends gently fell down the stairs. Okay, well, he couldn’t exactly call his dad “old,” Sensei Wu definitely had him beat in that department. Was there a word for middle-aged and already going senile, perhaps?

The hallway outside of the studio was wide and filled with old furniture, pictures, and knick knacks. Most of them, he had no idea where they had come from, he just knew that they had always been there, shaping his image of what “home” looked like. As he started walking, fingering the leaves on a palm plant, he noticed the pictures hanging up on the walls. The family in those frames looked happy and put together. They were… perfect. Always the perfect clothes, the perfect location, the perfect photographer, even the perfect weather. What happened to that family?

“Ooh ho ho! What have we here?”

Cole turned a worried eye up the stairs.

“HA HA HA!!! Are you serious?! There’s no way he could fit into these!”

And now he was taking the steps two at a time and charged into his old room like a rhino where he found Zane, Kai, and Jay holding a pair of black tights.

“I wasn’t doing anything!” Jay cried.

“Nice tights, Tinkerbell,” said Kai, sniggering.

“Out!” He barked, pointing them in the correct direction.

They all scurried away, doing their worst to hide their bouts of sputtered laughing. Suddenly Cole wasn’t feeling super cool anymore. He grabbed the tights and put them back into the dresser where they belonged before closing the bedroom door and taking another long breath.

‘It’s just three weeks, it’s just three weeks, it’s just three weeks.’ Somehow, thinking that didn’t make him feel any better.

* * *

“Oooh!! Oh!” Nya sang as she wrapped herself in bedsheets and blankets. “I’d almost forgotten that pillows could be so soft!” The bed in the second guest room was queen sized and positively heavenly. She had no idea what the fabric was called, or what the pillows were stuffed with, but whatever it was, she needed a life-time supply and she needed it now.

The whole room looked like it had been decorated by someone’s grandma and smelled like dust and old wood, but it was also incredibly expensive, even to Nya’s untrained eye. The dresser and wardrobe were a matching set of dark, carved wood, the light fixture hanging from the ceiling was a simple, gold coloured chandelier, there was a small balcony hidden behind lace curtains, and various paintings brightened up the walls. Forget the old pirate ship. Was Mr. Becket in the market to adopt?

She smiled and took one end of the comforter, rolling herself up in it right as Keaton canon-balled next to her.

“It’s so bouncy!” She squealed. “I never wanna go back to a sleeping mat ever again!”

“Hey, hey, hey! Get out of those sheets!” Ann snapped, coming over. “We haven’t bathed in months, you’re going to get them dirty! Might I remind you that we are guests?”

Nya stared at her from within her blanket cocoon, and then gave a mischievous smile at Keaton. “Well if we can’t have a pillow party, then maybe we should have a pool party!” She unrolled herself and then sprung from the mattress, Keaton right behind her, giggling giddily. “Let’s see how big the fancy bathtub is!”

(It’s at this point in the story where I feel the need to inform those who are not familiar with Japanese culture: hot springs, bath houses, and the like are common in the land of the rising sun, and these baths are often taken together. Not co-ed (in the 21st century that is), but still shared. If you have further questions, Google is your friend.)

The two girls were out the door before Ann could pop a vein on her forehead and they quickly found the state-of-the-art bathroom with all of it’s LED lights, fancy soaps, and giant bathtub with water jets. Keaton started pushing every reachable button while Nya turned on the tap, letting the steam from the hot water fill her pores. Yes. This is what she’d been missing.

“So many pretty things I never knew I wanted in all my life!” Keaton was saying as she held up several glass bottles of what looked like bath salts and body lotions. There was a skylight above them letting in just enough evening sun that cascaded through every glass object and sent rainbows flying in every direction. “They smell pretty, too!”

“It’s a far cry from that ‘old man soap’ back at the monastery, huh?” Said Nya as she began to peel her shirt away from her sweaty body. It wasn’t the only thing that needed a good wash. She eyed the grime and dirt that had built up under her finger nails and the greasy texture of her hair. “We should hit the shower before we soak, I think.”

“Good idea.”

A few minutes later, after they had gotten themselves mostly clean, the moment she had been waiting for had finally come. She plunged both feet into the steamy water of the tub and slowly sank as she felt her toes tingle angrily. It was like wrapping herself up in the perfect blanket. Keaton gingerly tip-toed her way in after her, bringing a bath bomb and a bottle of lavender soap which she used to fill every inch of surface area with bubbles.

While Keaton played some more with the tub lights and jets, Nya rested her head on one of the provided silicon head mats and took a long, soothing breath through the nose. The smell of soap, the feel of clean water—hot clean water at that—she had begun to forget what it felt like. It was as if she had gone from peasant to princess in two seconds, and she planned on making the most of it.

Knock! Knock!

“It’s just me, coming in,” Ann said, opening the door just enough for her to slide in. “I see you’re having fun with Mr. Becket’s soaps. You’d better be prepared to replace those.”

“Oh, lighten up,” said Nya, waving soapy hand. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

Ann scoffed a bit, but left it at that. But then she added, completely monotone, “Keaton, don’t eat the bubbles.”

Nya looked and saw a sheepish Keaton plopping a blob bubbles back into the water.

It would seem that Ann had come to use the shower, and with the sound of the jets in the tub and the shower head running, it was getting harder to relax.

Just then, one of Keaton’s feet accidentally brushed up against her own feet, and Nya pulled it back with a yelp. Then she laughed, realising what it was. She playfully poked Keaton’s feet back. Pretty soon, they were throwing bubbly water at each other, squealing and giggling with delight, while Ann was probably glowering like Batman in the shower.

A part of her tried to remind her that all of this would only last for three weeks, but another part of her wouldn’t hear it.

‘Please let this last more than just three weeks,’ she silently asked, taking in another long breath of warm, scented, humid air.

* * *

Jay’s head was dangling out in the hall, his eyes following the sound of feminine laughter flowing from the bathroom.

“They sure take their time,” he awkwardly chuckled, putting the robe he had found on one of the hangers back in its place.

Kai was sprawled out on the sofa that was next to a roaring fireplace, courtesy of his powers. “They’re girls,” he said, in a bored sort of way.

Jay wrinkled his nose. His mom had never been like that.

He took a turn and pulled back the lace curtains, revealing the sun setting over a picturesque, snow covered village, perfectly decorated with lights and garlands. With the fire going, and the smell of dinner beginning to waft upstairs, it was almost like something out of a holiday movie.

“We should be sure to thank Mr. Becket properly when we get downstairs,” Zane was saying as he placed a book back on a nearby shelf. “It’s not every day you come across generosity like his.”

“Yeah…” Jay absentmindedly agreed. He’d never so much as stepped foot inside a place as nice as this before, unless you counted the monastery, but that was more like a traditional sort of “nice.” This place was swanky. He began to finger an old record player as the sound of laughter dimly wade it’s way through the walls again.

He tried to smile, but… it was weird. He didn’t feel like smiling. All he could think about… was what his parents were doing this holiday season… without him.

‘Please let this be a good three weeks for them as well,’ he prayed.