Master Wu said we were getting someone new. Not a student, not exactly—he called her a recruit, like that meant something different. Said she trained on her own, far outside Ninjago City, and that she had potential. Said she had discipline, control, power—but also something else. Something he wouldn’t define. Which, of course, made us all curious.

When she finally showed up at the monastery gates, I expected someone nervous. Shaky. Maybe trying too hard. What we got was... the opposite.

She didn’t hesitate when Wu opened the gate. Just stepped inside like she’d been here before, like the stone paths were familiar beneath her boots. They were scuffed and worn—real fighter’s boots. No polish. No flash. Same with her clothes. Practical. Not flashy like Kai’s, not sleek like Zane’s. Her stance was grounded, like she knew how to move through a fight without wasting a single step. Her eyes were steady. Calculating.

Kai leaned over and muttered, “Another newbie? Hope she can keep up.”

Jay nudged him harder than necessary. “She hasn’t even said a word yet, man. Calm down.”

Zane was already analyzing her gait, probably calculating everything from balance to strike potential. Lloyd, ever the diplomat, offered a polite smile. “Welcome. It’s good to have you here.”

She returned it with a nod. Cool. Unbothered. Confident, but not arrogant.

I didn’t say anything at first. Just watched her. She met my eyes for a second too long. Not a glare. Not a challenge. Just... a moment. Like she was measuring me the same way I was measuring her. I don’t know what she saw, but something about her gaze stuck. Wu introduced her officially. Said she’d be training with us, not as a ninja yet, but close enough. He said she’d earned the right to stand beside us.

I believed him.

We paired up during drills. She was sharp—not perfect, but close. Every time she got knocked down, she got back up stronger. Adjusted. Learned. When I swept her legs during sparring, she grinned as she hit the mat like she’d wanted to be caught off guard. The next round, I was the one flat on my back.

Jay started hovering around her pretty fast, cracking jokes, showing her half-built tech. Kai got loud, flashy—more than usual. He “accidentally” took his shirt off three times that week. Lloyd was quiet but present, offering helpful advice, encouragement. And me?

I couldn’t stop watching her. Not because I didn’t trust her—because I did. Way too fast.

She wasn’t trying to impress anyone. She just worked. Trained. Pushed herself. But outside of drills, she was different—clever. Kind of sarcastic. Quieter than most, but when she spoke, people listened. She didn’t need to yell to be heard.

At dinner, she started sitting next to me. I told myself it was coincidence. Then she started showing up early to morning training—when I thought I was the only one who did that. And sometimes, when the others were too loud, she’d find me outside, near the edge of the cliffs, and sit down like it was the most natural thing in the world.

We didn’t always talk. But when we did, it meant something.

She fits in. Like she’s always been here.

And I hate how much I look forward to seeing her every day.

Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned from all this ninja stuff—it’s that nothing this good ever lasts long.