sprinthat

[sprinthat]

kaijiu's footprint, by enderthermic.

hurt/comfort oneshot set in the “& morro is there au”, focusing on Wu finally confronting Morro following the ninja's return from the neverealm. There's dashes of Cole acting fatherly toward Wu in here, too. Fathers all around, honestly.

tw: mentions/implications of past torture.

It’s been about one week since the ninja returned from the Neverealm. It’s been ten days since anyone has interacted with Morro. A year ago, that would have been normal; tensions were still high enough that most of the group wouldn’t be concerned about the master of wind not showing his face regularly. However, as of late things have gotten a bit more comfortable… even if nobody would admit it aloud. Any insults hurled at each other held less malice. Wu had even felt Morro’s quiet concern for the ninja when he’d heard of the Neverealm situation.

Wu may be prone to errors in judgement—like any other living being, except his mistakes held far more weight—but he likes to think he’s perceptive. This is his family to watch over, after all, so nothing could escape the eyes of the fatherly dragoni. Therefore, he’d been internally beating himself up over the fact that he’d been so busy tending to Cole, Zane, Kai, Nya and Lloyd that he’d excluded his first elemental student.

That’s all I am to you, Morro had spat out angrily—poor boy, using wrath as a cover for his sorrow—at Wu, years ago. I’m your student. Them? They’re your family. I am thousands of miles below them.

Last week, Morro had gone into hiding, only showing up in the dead of night to snatch some leftovers from the day’s meals. Neither Wu nor the ninja could stop him long enough to talk if they did encounter him; akin to a breeze, he was there and then he wasn’t.

The catalyst could have been none other then the re-emergence of the Preeminent that one day. Pixal had told him of Morro's encounter with the escaped Preeminent. Wu's heart bled over the fact that he hadn’t connected the dots sooner.

Cole, being an empathetic soul, made time on Sunday to talk with his sensei and release his worries over the team. He included Morro within those parameters.

“Nobody’s seen him for a week, master,” the earth ninja had muttered with a furrowed brow, “what happened while we were gone?”

Wu had taken in a deep breath, bowing his head slightly in shame as he’d explained the situation, as well as the fact he’d only recently realized it. Cole had looked understandably distressed, but he took it upon himself to be the rock everyone needed once more.

“You should talk to him,” Cole had smoothly pointed out.

“I… fear his reaction. unlike you six, I was not around him. I was absent for quite long. I am endeared to the boy,” Wu quietly stated, clutching his staff, “and I stay back because I want to respect his wishes. It is clear that he needs time to sort out his thoughts. The air between us is complex.”

Cole bit his lip, casting his gaze down to the ground as he thought. After a few seconds, he spoke again. “Master. Forgive me if I tread too far, but… from what I’ve seen and heard, you’ve kept him at arm’s length because anxiety plagues you. He’s learned from that, and he’s doing the same to you.”

Cole paused upon seeing Wu’s neutral expression, but eased on as he observed the attentive look in his master’s eyes.

“I think that perhaps… after so many years of space, he needs a bit of closeness.” Cole spoke softly, “You’re afraid to bridge the gap. He’s afraid to bridge the gap. Maybe it’s time for you to attempt.”

Ever since that conversation, those sentences of relational wisdom stuck within Wu’s mind—even on Monday, which was an eventful and busy day due to the ninja wishing to have a “semi-relaxing” outing. ( According to a firsthand account, Morro had rudely blown the door shut on Jay’s face when the tinkerer had tried to ask him if he wished to come. )

It’s Tuesday evening. Wu has spent all day steeling his resolve, and now he stands outside the door to Morro’s quarters. The elderly dragoni lifts a hand and gently raps on the door. As expected, there’s no response.

“Morro,” the sensei voices, “I wish to speak with you.”

Nothing. Wu lifts his hand to knock again, but when he makes contact with the door it inches open. Wu waits for a few moments, then pushes it a little more open with his rod. From what he sees, Morro's quarters are rather neat and orderly. There's starkly few possessions outside of the furniture lining the room, and the sliding door that leads to a balcony is open, along with the windows in the room, allowing for healthy air circulation.

Most notably, it is empty. Wu's heart is nearly caught in his throat as he steps back and closes the door. Had Morro fled the premises of the monastery, just as he had all those years ago? Am I too late again? The sensei's tail sways a little as his nerves begin to rocket. He turns and begins to walk, although he is unsure of where exactly he intends to go. He simply knows he needs to move. Last time, he had not moved quick enough to find Morro and... well, the mental image of the boy's decrepit skeleton sitting in a cave with its jaw askew and cape torn comes to mind. Wu's grip on his staff tightens, and his pace quickens enough to match his heartbeat as he enters the courtyard. Is he not fast enough? Morro is incredibly swift and can cover a lot of distance, especially doing so undetected—

Thwump. Wu snaps out of his thoughts as his hat is knocked askew. He raises a hand to adjust it, scanning the area for the cause.

His golden gaze falls upon a kite, caught on one of the training dummies.

Wu reaches down to pick it up, gently holding it so his claws don't pierce the delicately decorated paper; swatches of blue, green, and silver adorn the object, painting the illusion of a fish.

It's beautiful.

A sharp breeze suddenly attempts to whisk away the kite. Wu lets go of the object quickly as to not tear it. He watches as it dances upon the breeze, flitting to and fro until it was above the western roof of the monastery where a hand shoots up and grabs the kite, pulling it down out of sight. Wu immediately makes towards the nearby wall, pulling out two kunai from his robe to assist him in scaling it swiftly.

Atop the flatter part of the roof, Wu can see Morro's visage sitting along the edge over a small distance away. Wu slides the kunai back into one of his robe's inner pockets and silently makes his towards the boy. Morro is holding the kite, running his fingers over its glossy paper. When Wu is within seven meters of him, he shifts and casts a brief glance over his shoulder.

“Sensei,” is all the wind elemental offers before turning his attention back to his kite.

“Morro...” concern weighs down Wu's voice as he crosses the distance between them, pausing a meter or so away. “Are you injured?”

“No. I'm doing just fine,” comes the sharp response. Morro's shoulders visibly tighten.

“You are not,” Wu's brow furrows, “you have been reclusive for over seven days. We miss your presence.”

“and I'm the Jade emperor,” Morro mutters, sarcasm dripping from his words like rain off a leaf. “Go probe the members of your gaggle. I'm sure they need you.”

“And you do not?” Wu quietly questions, folding his hands atop his staff. He anticipates Morro's bite-back answer of “I don't”, and chooses to speak over him. “A singular blade cannot sharpen itself. Please, share what ails you.”

The wind elemental cackles dryly. “What doesn't?”

Wu decides to stop this skirting around the subject via taking the metaphorical dragon's fire facefirst; he speaks with a careful, soft tone. “What did she do to you, Morro? What did she say?”

That earns a reaction. Morro slams a hand down against the roof. The wind stirs as he tilts his head forward, a low and bitter sentence seeping out of his mouth. “I still belong to her.”

“Morro,” Wu begins slowly. He steps back as he's interrupted by an outburst of air. Morro, suddenly standing straight up, twists himself around to face Wu, who notes with a start that Morro's irises are a frightening neon lime. With jagged movements that would better befit one without a body, Morro lifts a hand and points at his face. The scars under his eyes are a damp green.

“I still belong to her, sensei,” faint fearful mania lines Morro's tone as he brushes his bangs back, “I'm still her favorite. Her beloved general. Dead or alive, I'm still hers.”

“You aren't,” Wu refutes immediately, “you are your own being.”

“I am a cursed one! My existence is vile enough that I am to be branded by her,” Morro spits out, a wild look in his eyes as his tone lowers and he leans forward, “forever.”

A chill crawls through Wu's spine, reminiscent of the shivers he'd gotten as his possessed nephew had burst into the tea shop. He forces himself to relax, keeping his gaze level.

“Who would do such a thing, Morro?” Wu feels his blood boil faintly. It leaks into his tone, an mixture of sympathy and righteous anger. “Foolish as you acted, you were a sweet child. Who would hate you—a mere boy!—so much as to curse you to bear such pain at her tendrils?”

His maniac demeanor gone, Morro adopts a stunned expression at Wu's brief spurt of wrath on his behalf. The wind elemental's face settles into irritated unease. He folds his arms, eyes settling decidedly upon the mountain peaks in the distance. Morro chuckles defeatedly, answering in a small voice: “I wouldn't know.”

He is trembling fearfully, Wu notes. There's a resurgence of a familiar urge to simply hold the poor boy and shelter him from all the cruelties of the world... and there's the regretful reminder that it's far too late for Wu to do that now. Then, in what Wu perceives as a desperate attempt to hide weakness—no, to hide vulnerability—Morro glares at him, lip pulling back in a sneer as the wind whistles by them both.

“Why would you be curious about my fate, anyhow?” despite Morro's best effort, his voice cracks, “You only ever cared when you thought I'd be what you wanted.”

“Oh, little one...” Wu's expression morphs into sorrowful agony, “I always cared about you, regardless of the prophecy.”

“Then why did you look so devastated when it was not true?” the wind spins around the two as Morro rages, “if I hadn't failed you, why did you become so distant?”

“I... I was rethinking my methods and recounting my mistakes in your instruction, but it was no excuse. I should have counseled you—I should never have put such a weight on you in the first place.”

“But you did, and now I bear the title of being your greatest regret,” Morro snaps, his ire and gales only growing as Wu shamefully bows his head in response, “you avoid me. You can't bear to look at me for too long. When you do, you always have that—that stupid sad and remorseful look in your eyes! You only see me as your failure!”

They're in the eye of the storm now. The chilly wind whips and snaps at Wu's skin and scales, tiny chunks of debris threatening to tear cuts and wounds. Morro leans back, pressing his hands against his face as an agonized sound rips itself from his throat.

“I don't care what your stupid, golden-hearted hero nephew says; I'm an awful person, and I understand that! But by the peaks of the Alps, I'm trying,” Morro hunches back over, his voice breaking as he gives Wu a borderline desperate stare. “I'm trying. Can't you see me for that, at least? Can't you see me as anything else then just another tally in your line of mistakes?”

Morro crumples to his knees, palms against his eyes. Wu stands speechless, a mess of emotion welling up within his ribcage and working its way up to his throat. This boy is gravely wounded by Wu's own doing, by his own passivity—oh, Wu should be been wiser and tended to the injury so much sooner. Wu takes a few steps forward, standing in front of his student for a moment before kneeling. He sets his hands gently upon Morro's front thighs.

“I care for you wholeheartedly, Morro,” Wu whispers out with all the sincerity he can convey, “and I am so, so sorry. I've let my past experiences stunt my vision... I see now how you are growing, little one. You're making the choice to be better,” Wu grasps Morro's hands gently, “which also means that you are your own.”

There is a quiet moment as Morro's eyes flicker up to meet his teacher's gaze before he looks away again.

“Mother saw me as she was rampaging through the streets. All she had to do was will it, and my eyes burned. It hurt,” he quietly croaks, “it hurt like never before. She said... she'd do it over and over again because I failed her. She would kill me. It would've been just like before. And what did I do? I pleaded for my life, like a pathetic dog,” Morro's face twists in a snarl of disgust and self-contempt, “I should have fought her. The Samurai shouldn't have had to bail me out of there.”

“You were not expecting to be confronted with the beast that was your tormentor and captor,” Wu softly answered, “she was harming you severely. You were incapacitated, unable to fight. There is no shame in having to rely on your allies. Do you understand?”

Morro manages a begrudging noise of acknowledgment.

“You do not have to handle things alone,” Wu continues, “if that is the reason for your isolation, remember that I will be here for you.”

“No,” Morro hastily shakes his head, pulling his hands away from Wu’s grasp, “that’s not—no. Mother was able to command me before. What if she’s… what if she’s able to do that again? I could hear her even though I’m not… it’s better that you all see me as an enemy if that happens.”

Wu’s heart sinks. “My child, removing your presence only has the effect of concerning those who care for you. You are not an enemy.”

“I should be,” Morro states firmly, “after everything I've done, I should be.”

“Morro.” the elderly dragoni briefly raises a hand and gently caresses and boy's chin, forcing him to make eye contact. “Answer me these questions with every ounce of honesty you can muster. Would you have done such ill things had you lived?”

“No,” the wind elemental responds slowly, “but I wouldn't have had the chance t—”

Wu sharply raises his index finger, cutting Morro off. “Did you serve the Preeminent of your own free will?”

“That would imply I had the choice not to obey Mother,” Morro remarks dryly, “you don't get far in the cursed realm if you try to make your own path.”

“Precisely,” the teacher nods, “which brings me to my last question. Do you regret your actions?”

“I... do,” Morro whispers, and Wu notes the shivers in his body and voice. “I was supposed to save the world, not be a herald of its destruction. I told her that. She didn't want to hear any of it. She didn't like the fight I was putting up... so she made sure I'd never fight her again. I only remember the pain.”

Morro folds his arms and quickly tries to hide his face from Wu, but the latter had already seen the tears forming in the wind master's eyes. The teacher's heart is rent in two, and he can't prevent himself from moving forward and wrapping his arms and tail around the other in an embrace. He feels Morro stiffen in surprise at the sudden contact.

“I am sorry to have been the catalyst for life and death to treat you so unfairly, Morro. It is nowhere near penance for what I did, but please accept my comfort,” Wu delicately pleads, “you have been strong for so long, and you are so tired. It is not a crime to allow yourself weakness.”

Slowly but surely, Morro lets himself sink into Wu's embrace. Wu allows his creational element to seep through his body, his form now providing a comforting warmth. Morro's form trembles as he quietly sobs into his master's shoulder. The two remain there for a while, Wu muttering to Morro soothingly until the boy's breathing falls into a steady pattern that indicates he has fallen asleep. The dragoni perks at the sound of footsteps, gently straightening and looking up to see the earth ninja standing beside the two.

“I'm proud of you, master,” Cole mutters quietly, a smile adorning his face.

Wu feels a warmth blossom within his chest, and gives a small chuckle. “We still have a lot to mend... but thank you for giving me the courage to begin the process.”

Cole simply offers a bow in response, then moves to pick up the master of wind. “He's out like a light. Let's get him somewhere more comfortable.”

Wu nods, rising to his feet as Cole adjusts his grasp on Morro, holding the slumbering man in a fireman's carry; the earth ninja then makes his way off the roof.

Wu watches him leave, remaining behind a moment longer. He turns his attention to the kite, reaching down to pick it up. As he runs a hand over the beautifully decorated paper, the dragoni internally vows to better himself as an instructor and father.

[sprinthat]

kaijiu's footprint, by enderthermic.

hurt/comfort oneshot set in the “& morro is there au”, focusing on Wu finally confronting Morro following the ninja's return from the neverealm. There's dashes of Cole acting fatherly toward Wu in here, too. Fathers all around, honestly.

tw: mentions/implications of past torture.

It’s been about one week since the ninja returned from the Neverealm. It’s been ten days since anyone has interacted with Morro. A year ago, that would have been normal; tensions were still high enough that most of the group wouldn’t be concerned about the master of wind not showing his face regularly. However, as of late things have gotten a bit more comfortable… even if nobody would admit it aloud. Any insults hurled at each other held less malice. Wu had even felt Morro’s quiet concern for the ninja when he’d heard of the Neverealm situation.

Wu may be prone to errors in judgement—like any other living being, except his mistakes held far more weight—but he likes to think he’s perceptive. This is his family to watch over, after all, so nothing could escape the eyes of the fatherly dragoni. Therefore, he’d been internally beating himself up over the fact that he’d been so busy tending to Cole, Zane, Kai, Nya and Lloyd that he’d excluded his first elemental student.

That’s all I am to you, Morro had spat out angrily—poor boy, using wrath as a cover for his sorrow—at Wu, years ago. I’m your student. Them? They’re your family. I am thousands of miles below them.

Last week, Morro had gone into hiding, only showing up in the dead of night to snatch some leftovers from the day’s meals. Neither Wu nor the ninja could stop him long enough to talk if they did encounter him; akin to a breeze, he was there and then he wasn’t.

The catalyst could have been none other then the re-emergence of the Preeminent that one day. Pixal had told him of Morro's encounter with the escaped Preeminent. Wu's heart bled over the fact that he hadn’t connected the dots sooner.

Cole, being an empathetic soul, made time on Sunday to talk with his sensei and release his worries over the team. He included Morro within those parameters.

“Nobody’s seen him for a week, master,” the earth ninja had muttered with a furrowed brow, ���what happened while we were gone?”

Wu had taken in a deep breath, bowing his head slightly in shame as he’d explained the situation, as well as the fact he’d only recently realized it. Cole had looked understandably distressed, but he took it upon himself to be the rock everyone needed once more.

“You should talk to him,” Cole had smoothly pointed out.

“I… fear his reaction. unlike you six, I was not around him. I was absent for quite long. I am endeared to the boy,” Wu quietly stated, clutching his staff, “and I stay back because I want to respect his wishes. It is clear that he needs time to sort out his thoughts. The air between us is complex.”

Cole bit his lip, casting his gaze down to the ground as he thought. After a few seconds, he spoke again. “Master. Forgive me if I tread too far, but… from what I’ve seen and heard, you’ve kept him at arm’s length because anxiety plagues you. He’s learned from that, and he’s doing the same to you.”

Cole paused upon seeing Wu’s neutral expression, but eased on as he observed the attentive look in his master’s eyes.

“I think that perhaps… after so many years of space, he needs a bit of closeness.” Cole spoke softly, “You’re afraid to bridge the gap. He’s afraid to bridge the gap. Maybe it’s time for you to attempt.”

Ever since that conversation, those sentences of relational wisdom stuck within Wu’s mind—even on Monday, which was an eventful and busy day due to the ninja wishing to have a “semi-relaxing” outing. ( According to a firsthand account, Morro had rudely blown the door shut on Jay’s face when the tinkerer had tried to ask him if he wished to come. )

It’s Tuesday evening. Wu has spent all day steeling his resolve, and now he stands outside the door to Morro’s quarters. The elderly dragoni lifts a hand and gently raps on the door. As expected, there’s no response.

“Morro,” the sensei voices, “I wish to speak with you.”

Nothing. Wu lifts his hand to knock again, but when he makes contact with the door it inches open. Wu waits for a few moments, then pushes it a little more open with his rod. From what he sees, Morro's quarters are rather neat and orderly. There's starkly few possessions outside of the furniture lining the room, and the sliding door that leads to a balcony is open, along with the windows in the room, allowing for healthy air circulation.

Most notably, it is empty. Wu's heart is nearly caught in his throat as he steps back and closes the door. Had Morro fled the premises of the monastery, just as he had all those years ago? Am I too late again? The sensei's tail sways a little as his nerves begin to rocket. He turns and begins to walk, although he is unsure of where exactly he intends to go. He simply knows he needs to move. Last time, he had not moved quick enough to find Morro and... well, the mental image of the boy's decrepit skeleton sitting in a cave with its jaw askew and cape torn comes to mind. Wu's grip on his staff tightens, and his pace quickens enough to match his heartbeat as he enters the courtyard. Is he not fast enough? Morro is incredibly swift and can cover a lot of distance, especially doing so undetected—

Thwump. Wu snaps out of his thoughts as his hat is knocked askew. He raises a hand to adjust it, scanning the area for the cause.

His golden gaze falls upon a kite, caught on one of the training dummies.

Wu reaches down to pick it up, gently holding it so his claws don't pierce the delicately decorated paper; swatches of blue, green, and silver adorn the object, painting the illusion of a fish.

It's beautiful.

A sharp breeze suddenly attempts to whisk away the kite. Wu lets go of the object quickly as to not tear it. He watches as it dances upon the breeze, flitting to and fro until it was above the western roof of the monastery where a hand shoots up and grabs the kite, pulling it down out of sight. Wu immediately makes towards the nearby wall, pulling out two kunai from his robe to assist him in scaling it swiftly.

Atop the flatter part of the roof, Wu can see Morro's visage sitting along the edge over a small distance away. Wu slides the kunai back into one of his robe's inner pockets and silently makes his towards the boy. Morro is holding the kite, running his fingers over its glossy paper. When Wu is within seven meters of him, he shifts and casts a brief glance over his shoulder.

“Sensei,” is all the wind elemental offers before turning his attention back to his kite.

“Morro...” concern weighs down Wu's voice as he crosses the distance between them, pausing a meter or so away. “Are you injured?”

“No. I'm doing just fine,” comes the sharp response. Morro's shoulders visibly tighten.

“You are not,” Wu's brow furrows, “you have been reclusive for over seven days. We miss your presence.”

“and I'm the Jade emperor,” Morro mutters, sarcasm dripping from his words like rain off a leaf. “Go probe the members of your gaggle. I'm sure they need you.”

“And you do not?” Wu quietly questions, folding his hands atop his staff. He anticipates Morro's bite-back answer of “I don't”, and chooses to speak over him. “A singular blade cannot sharpen itself. Please, share what ails you.”

The wind elemental cackles dryly. “What doesn't?”

Wu decides to stop this skirting around the subject via taking the metaphorical dragon's fire facefirst; he speaks with a careful, soft tone. “What did she do to you, Morro? What did she say?”

That earns a reaction. Morro slams a hand down against the roof. The wind stirs as he tilts his head forward, a low and bitter sentence seeping out of his mouth. “I still belong to her.”

“Morro,” Wu begins slowly. He steps back as he's interrupted by an outburst of air. Morro, suddenly standing straight up, twists himself around to face Wu, who notes with a start that Morro's irises are a frightening neon lime. With jagged movements that would better befit one without a body, Morro lifts a hand and points at his face. The scars under his eyes are a damp green.

“I still belong to her, sensei,” faint fearful mania lines Morro's tone as he brushes his bangs back, “I'm still her favorite. Her beloved general. Dead or alive, I'm still hers.”

“You aren't,” Wu refutes immediately, “you are your own being.”

“I am a cursed one! My existence is vile enough that I am to be branded by her,” Morro spits out, a wild look in his eyes as his tone lowers and he leans forward, “forever.”

A chill crawls through Wu's spine, reminiscent of the shivers he'd gotten as his possessed nephew had burst into the tea shop. He forces himself to relax, keeping his gaze level.

“Who would do such a thing, Morro?” Wu feels his blood boil faintly. It leaks into his tone, an mixture of sympathy and righteous anger. “Foolish as you acted, you were a sweet child. Who would hate you—a mere boy!—so much as to curse you to bear such pain at her tendrils?”

His maniac demeanor gone, Morro adopts a stunned expression at Wu's brief spurt of wrath on his behalf. The wind elemental's face settles into irritated unease. He folds his arms, eyes settling decidedly upon the mountain peaks in the distance. Morro chuckles defeatedly, answering in a small voice: “I wouldn't know.”

He is trembling fearfully, Wu notes. There's a resurgence of a familiar urge to simply hold the poor boy and shelter him from all the cruelties of the world... and there's the regretful reminder that it's far too late for Wu to do that now. Then, in what Wu perceives as a desperate attempt to hide weakness—no, to hide vulnerability—Morro glares at him, lip pulling back in a sneer as the wind whistles by them both.

“Why would you be curious about my fate, anyhow?” despite Morro's best effort, his voice cracks, “You only ever cared when you thought I'd be what you wanted.”

“Oh, little one...” Wu's expression morphs into sorrowful agony, “I always cared about you, regardless of the prophecy.”

“Then why did you look so devastated when it was not true?” the wind spins around the two as Morro rages, “if I hadn't failed you, why did you become so distant?”

“I... I was rethinking my methods and recounting my mistakes in your instruction, but it was no excuse. I should have counseled you—I should never have put such a weight on you in the first place.”

“But you did, and now I bear the title of being your greatest regret,” Morro snaps, his ire and gales only growing as Wu shamefully bows his head in response, “you avoid me. You can't bear to look at me for too long. When you do, you always have that—that stupid sad and remorseful look in your eyes! You only see me as your failure!”

They're in the eye of the storm now. The chilly wind whips and snaps at Wu's skin and scales, tiny chunks of debris threatening to tear cuts and wounds. Morro leans back, pressing his hands against his face as an agonized sound rips itself from his throat.

“I don't care what your stupid, golden-hearted hero nephew says; I'm an awful person, and I understand that! But by the peaks of the Alps, I'm trying,” Morro hunches back over, his voice breaking as he gives Wu a borderline desperate stare. “I'm trying. Can't you see me for that, at least? Can't you see me as anything else then just another tally in your line of mistakes?”

Morro crumples to his knees, palms against his eyes. Wu stands speechless, a mess of emotion welling up within his ribcage and working its way up to his throat. This boy is gravely wounded by Wu's own doing, by his own passivity—oh, Wu should be been wiser and tended to the injury so much sooner. Wu takes a few steps forward, standing in front of his student for a moment before kneeling. He sets his hands gently upon Morro's front thighs.

“I care for you wholeheartedly, Morro,” Wu whispers out with all the sincerity he can convey, “and I am so, so sorry. I've let my past experiences stunt my vision... I see now how you are growing, little one. You're making the choice to be better,” Wu grasps Morro's hands gently, “which also means that you are your own.”

There is a quiet moment as Morro's eyes flicker up to meet his teacher's gaze before he looks away again.

“Mother saw me as she was rampaging through the streets. All she had to do was will it, and my eyes burned. It hurt,” he quietly croaks, “it hurt like never before. She said... she'd do it over and over again because I failed her. She would kill me. It would've been just like before. And what did I do? I pleaded for my life, like a pathetic dog,” Morro's face twists in a snarl of disgust and self-contempt, “I should have fought her. The Samurai shouldn't have had to bail me out of there.”

“You were not expecting to be confronted with the beast that was your tormentor and captor,” Wu softly answered, “she was harming you severely. You were incapacitated, unable to fight. There is no shame in having to rely on your allies. Do you understand?”

Morro manages a begrudging noise of acknowledgment.

“You do not have to handle things alone,” Wu continues, “if that is the reason for your isolation, remember that I will be here for you.”

“No,” Morro hastily shakes his head, pulling his hands away from Wu’s grasp, “that’s not—no. Mother was able to command me before. What if she’s… what if she’s able to do that again? I could hear her even though I’m not… it’s better that you all see me as an enemy if that happens.”

Wu’s heart sinks. “My child, removing your presence only has the effect of concerning those who care for you. You are not an enemy.”

“I should be,” Morro states firmly, “after everything I've done, I should be.”

“Morro.” the elderly dragoni briefly raises a hand and gently caresses and boy's chin, forcing him to make eye contact. “Answer me these questions with every ounce of honesty you can muster. Would you have done such ill things had you lived?”

“No,” the wind elemental responds slowly, “but I wouldn't have had the chance t—”

Wu sharply raises his index finger, cutting Morro off. “Did you serve the Preeminent of your own free will?”

“That would imply I had the choice not to obey Mother,” Morro remarks dryly, “you don't get far in the cursed realm if you try to make your own path.”

“Precisely,” the teacher nods, “which brings me to my last question. Do you regret your actions?”

“I... do,” Morro whispers, and Wu notes the shivers in his body and voice. “I was supposed to save the world, not be a herald of its destruction. I told her that. She didn't want to hear any of it. She didn't like the fight I was putting up... so she made sure I'd never fight her again. I only remember the pain.”

Morro folds his arms and quickly tries to hide his face from Wu, but the latter had already seen the tears forming in the wind master's eyes. The teacher's heart is rent in two, and he can't prevent himself from moving forward and wrapping his arms and tail around the other in an embrace. He feels Morro stiffen in surprise at the sudden contact.

“I am sorry to have been the catalyst for life and death to treat you so unfairly, Morro. It is nowhere near penance for what I did, but please accept my comfort,” Wu delicately pleads, “you have been strong for so long, and you are so tired. It is not a crime to allow yourself weakness.”

Slowly but surely, Morro lets himself sink into Wu's embrace. Wu allows his creational element to seep through his body, his form now providing a comforting warmth. Morro's form trembles as he quietly sobs into his master's shoulder. The two remain there for a while, Wu muttering to Morro soothingly until the boy's breathing falls into a steady pattern that indicates he has fallen asleep. The dragoni perks at the sound of footsteps, gently straightening and looking up to see the earth ninja standing beside the two.

“I'm proud of you, master,” Cole mutters quietly, a smile adorning his face.

Wu feels a warmth blossom within his chest, and gives a small chuckle. “We still have a lot to mend... but thank you for giving me the courage to begin the process.”

Cole simply offers a bow in response, then moves to pick up the master of wind. “He's out like a light. Let's get him somewhere more comfortable.”

Wu nods, rising to his feet as Cole adjusts his grasp on Morro, holding the slumbering man in a fireman's carry; the earth ninja then makes his way off the roof.

Wu watches him leave, remaining behind a moment longer. He turns his attention to the kite, reaching down to pick it up. As he runs a hand over the beautifully decorated paper, the dragoni internally vows to better himself as an instructor and father.