moonlight | ninjago

02 ✧ talking to the moon

"i know you're somewhere out there,
somewhere far away
i want you back."
✧✧✧

Kira isn't able to fall asleep that night.

Insomnia is nothing new to her. She's used to spending nights wide awake, staring at her bedroom ceiling while her mind churns like a runaway motor. The feeling of exhaustion weighing her down, of her body begging for rest despite her brain refusing, is all too familiar. Tonight, though, the restlessness is far more intense. It eats away at her very being, causing her to toss and turn in bed. And tonight, something more specific than usual keeps her up.

"You're just like your father."

Just five simple words, and yet they've completely shaken her up. They've been looping through her mind like a broken record for hours on end, a haunting, never-ending song that's all but driven her mad by now. A million questions bubble at her lips with no one to answer them. Who in Ninjago was that old stranger? How did he even find her? And how did he know her father?

The village girl takes a deep breath and exhales, trying once again to relax. When that doesn't work, she shifts to face the bedroom window. Her eyes are quick to lock on the glow of the full moon, the only source of light in her otherwise-dark bedroom. There's a faint tugging at her brain, the same tug she always feels when she looks at it. It beckons her closer, and she obeys, moving out of bed and to her windowsill in an instant. She pushes the window open. Cool nighttime air drifts into her face, stirring the fabric of her nightgown and the jet-black waves of her hair. She tucks a stray lock behind her ear, a sigh escaping her as she gazes up at the moon above. Then, for the first time since bidding her mother goodnight that evening, she opens her mouth.

"Hey, Dad. It's me, Kira."

Just like the other thousand times she's done this, the only responses she gets are the whistle of the wind, crickets chirping, and the sound of her own breathing. It doesn't matter to her. She speaks anyway, her voice carrying soft and lonely through the night.

"An old man came by the shop today. He said he was looking for something special, and then he said that I was just like you. I don't really know what he was talking about, or how he could've known you, but...I hope he's right."

A short, dry laugh escapes her. "You know how much I'd love to be like you."

Nobody answers.

It's on nights like these that she wonders why she can't fall asleep like a normal person. How hard is it to just roll over and doze off? Not very, and yet every night is a struggle to do just that. Every time she shuts her eyes, her father's face flashes in her mind. Knowing there's almost nothing to remember him by—no happy memories, no possessions left behind, not even the sound of his voice—keeps her up at night. Whoever that mysterious visitor was, he's reminded her once again that she's never had the one person she longs for most.

"I wish you were here, father," she continues. "Maybe if you were, I wouldn't feel like something's...missing all the time. I wouldn't have to wonder what it would be like to have a full family, or stay up every night wanting you. You'd be right here, and everything would be okay."

She inhales again, her grip on the windowsill tightening as a deep breath leaves her mouth. "Where did you go?" she whispers. "Wherever it is, I hope you're okay. And...well, if you're still around, I hope you'll come back one day. Mom and I miss you, you know."

Crickets.

Kira sighs. "I guess that's all for tonight. I love you."

The girl lingers for a moment, stealing one last glance up at the dazzling celestial body high above, before closing the window and turning away. She settles on the edge of her bed, resting her chin in her hands as her eyes close. She could've been sitting there for minutes or an hour before she hears a light rapping on her door. The girl jerks up, blinking in surprise. "Come in."