The story is set a few months after "The Deadly Venom". Apriltello, Leorai and mild Rasey. Rated T for language and some adult themes. Nothing too explicit.

We realize this chapter is a bit long, but don't worry, next chapters will be more manageable^^

"Itadakimasu!"

The word resounded around the small shop, pronounced by eight different mouths at the same time at different levels of accuracy, and even before the last echo faded there were greedy plinkings of chopsticks on ceramic plates and various murmurs of delight.

It was after closing time at the noodle shop and Murakami still had customers over, although they weren't customers so much as guests. They wouldn't be paying tonight. Tonight dinner was on him. The curtains were drawn and the entrance door was locked. With that one word, dinner had officially begun.

It had been more than a year since that night that the turtles came to his restaurant right in the nick of time, as usual, and saved him from the Purple Dragons, and then many times over. He owed his friends his life, so a bit of food was really no big deal, even when -of course being the turtles- it was quite the generous bit of food. It was a special occasion; finally he got to meet their sensei!

The way his sons had described him, this man must have been a thing to behold, had he been able to use his own eyes. He could not, but he could still see him. When he entered the shop, Murakami was able to hear the light clicking of claws on his floorboards, and the brushing of his tail as he walked. By the sound of it, he was wearing a long kimono of sorts made of some tough yet downy material. The smell was a confirmation that he lived in the same place that his sons did, but also carried a clear scent of Sencha tea and sweet incense. Jasmine. And he liked his voice; it was both imposing and nurturing, and had an elegant baritone quality to it.

"Murakami-san, I hope my sons weren't too insisting. I assure you I had no intention of dragging you into such complications."

And this rat man was also very well mannered, the traditional japanese way. He reminded him of his parents' village back in Japan. It felt good being able to practice his own language for once.

"It's no complication! It's my pleasure!" Murakami said cheerfully, adopting a gesture of pure self-satisfaction. "Nothing makes me happier than to have your family sitting at my bar, and to finally be able to meet you, Splinter-san."

The young turtle at his side gave Splinter a triumphant grin. "Seee?"

Splinter gave Michelangelo an amused roll of his eyes before turning back to the old man.

"Arigato" he said, making a small courteous bow of his head before remembering that the other would not be able to see that. He rectified and cleared his throat. "I don't leave our home often, but they were very persistent. It seems the idea of us meeting was very thrilling to them. I can see why. It's nice to speak with someone from my old country."

"Same here" Murakami agreed, a clear pinch of nostalgia in his tone of voice. "Now, I'm sure you've tried my pizza gyoza, but how about a more traditional japanese home-cooked meal with a bit of the finest sake to go with that?"

The smile on Splinter's snout spread wider at the sight of the dish in Murakami's hands and his whiskers wiggled with anticipated delight. He couldn't remember the last time he had a real Japanese meal.

"Smells wonderful."

"I assure you it tastes better," Murakami added proudly as he poured the warm sake on the tiny sakazuki cup and placed it on the table in front of Splinter. As soon as his sensei raised the porcelain cup with the clear liquid, contemplating the fine craftsmanship, the young turtle in the orange bandana bolted in his seat to look at it more closely.

"What's that?"

And before Splinter could answer, the purple-clad turtle sitting a few seats down the bar beat him to it.

"That's sake. The Japanese brew it from fermented rice" Donatello happily explained.

"So it's rice juice?"

"It's not rice juice! It's a very potent liquor!"

Michelangelo gave a loud gasp of excitement.

"Can I try some?"

"Absolutely not!" Splinter said, holding the cup out of reach of his son's greedy hands. "The last thing you need, Michelangelo, is for alcohol to further your lack of inhibition."

"Well, can we try it?" asked the turtle in red sitting next to Mikey.

"Not until you're 21, Raphael."

And as though voicing Raphael's disappointment, the young human boy in the paint-stained clothes leaned in to speak, bumping shoulders with the red-haired girl in yellow next to him.

"Come on, Master Splinter! Every parent lets their children take a sip at Christmas, or New Year's, and stuff like that."

"What you and your family do in your own time is none of my concern, Mr. Jones" Splinter said, referring to Casey in the way he did when he was in strict japanese dad mode. "But I can't let you indulge in illegal activities on my watch."

"Aw, man, but I'm almost 20 already. That would make it almost legal in Japan."

"No" Splinter said sternly with a finality that left no place for a reproach, and then he finally took the cup to his lips and sipped.

"He's not wrong, though," Donnie admitted to whoever would listen. Normally that wouldn't include many people, but today's subject was alcohol. "In many countries people can drink at the age of 18. The lowest legal drinking age is 16 in some European provinces, and in Ukraine it's actually legal to give your child alcohol at the age of 5 as long as it's on private premises."

Casey blew a loud raspberry.

"This blows. When did we get stuck with the suckier drinking age?"

"The law is there for a reason, pea brain. Alcohol can be a very dangerous drug," Donatello retorted in exactly the tone of voice that Casey couldn't stand, the kind that made him feel like he was being lectured.

Mikey cheered, wide-eyed.

"Cool, so if we went on vacation there right now we could drink alcohol?"

"Psh-yeah. We'll just put on a trenchcoat and take the next transatlantic bus there" Raphael scoffed.

"Actually," Leonardo said from his seat next to the Japanese girl in the leather jacket, "Might I make a petition to never let Mikey drink even after he turns 21?"

All brothers immediately hollered in unison.

"Aye!"

"Where do I sign?"

Mikey gave them all a pouty face and a pair of narrowed eyes full of hurt.

At the far end of the bar, the girl in leather jacket leaned in close to Leo.

"I've had sake. It isn't all that", Karai whispered in his ear and as usual he couldn't be sure if she was bluffing or not. But before he could ask, Mikey's squeals of ecstasy cut him off, drilling in everybody's ears. The kid had the memory of a fish sometimes.

"Man this is going to be the best Sensei Day EVER!" His rear end bonked against the stool's wood like a hammer drill. "We got Murakami's delish food, and the gang's all here!" Suddenly he gave a gasp like he'd just realised something. "Ooh! We forgot to formally introduce Karai to Murakami-san!"

At his words, everything in the room fell into a sudden standstill. Laughter went splat on the floor and the uncomfortable silence was only broken by the sound of a pair of chopsticks being dropped on a plate.

"Awesome!" Mikey said, obviously mistaking everybody's silence as them politely waiting for him to do the honors. "Karai, meet Mr. Murakami. Murakami-san, this is our sister Karai."

"Uh.. actually, Karai and Murakami-san have already kinda met," Raph declared bluntly and he was cut off by April's small pale hand that had reached across Casey to smack him in the shoulder.

"What?" he protested.

Karai was throwing Raphael an icy glare, but stayed quiet as she apprehensively glanced around her to the rest of the people in the room. Sweet Mikey had been stunned into silence, seemingly confused by their reactions.

She had been dreading this moment; the moment in which her past life was brought up, specifically the part where she was tasked with threatening and beating an old man senseless, wrecking this very restaurant just to get information on the turtles and their friends. To... 'strike at their hearts'.

Mikey pressed on as if nothing weird had happened. Obviously they didn't get his point.

"No, but I mean we have to introduce the good Karai! You know, cuz when they met she was still Shredder's evil kunoichi daughter and was like trying to kill us…"

"Geez, Mikey, shut up..." Casey groaned under his breath, leaning in behind Raph.

"But-"

"Michelangelo!" Splinter scolded curtly, but seemed at a loss for something to say after that. He looked almost as troubled as Karai, but not quite. Mikey looked up at his stoic face, confused and disheartened, and gave up trying to fix things.

Karai dropped her eyes, trying to ignore the way everybody was avoiding her gaze. She wished they wouldn't do that, it almost made it worse…She wished someone would just say something.

At the center next to his kitchen, Murakami hesitated to speak, sensing everybody's discomfort and somewhat unsettled by the thick cloud of awkwardness that had plunged over the group all of a sudden, and the resounding silence coming from Karai's corner of the bar.

Finally he decided he couldn't let such a thing fester.

"Oh, yes…I remember Miss Karai," Murakami started speaking to the whole of the room in a casual voice and Karai's head drooped. She wanted nothing else but to sink through the floor. But then Murakami's mouth curved upwards ever so slightly. "I remember she honorably refused to harm me when that tiger man would have surely killed me."

Karai lifted her gaze from her food plate, surprised by Murakami's change in tone.

"It was likely because of her that I was allowed to live. So I was very happy to hear that you had found a better path, and now it's an honor to formally meet you, Karai." Murakami was addressing her directly now. "I hope your new life brings you happiness."

A smile of relief lit her expression, a patch of bright blue on a rainy sky.

"Domo arigato gozaimasu, Murakami-san," she said courteously presenting the old man with her gratitude.

"Dōitashimashite," the man said with a smile of his own. "Don't forget to try the negima!"

Just like that, Murakami was back by his kitchen, merrily humming a tune as he flipped a pan-full of vegetables in the air and the atmosphere in the room changed to a warmer hue as the fog lifted. However the tight knot constricting Karai's chest still wouldn't grant her the bravery to look too closely in everybody else's eyes. Deep down she was still scared that she might not find all the reassurance she was striving for. And after what she did, how could she expect any different?

At her side, she caught Leonardo turning his head and offering her an encouraging smile under the placid blue of his timid glance. That alone managed to light a faint shimmer of hope within and the knot loosened another bit.

Then the turtle turned to face the room and said casually "So we ran into Martin the other day!"

Karai was grateful for the renewed festive feel that Leo's comment achieved, even when it was obviously meant to keep the subject away from her. It would give her time to gather herself and dissolve her troubling thoughts in the casual conversation.

"You mean Sir Malachi," Donnie corrected amusingly.

"The sparrow guy with the LARP addiction?" Casey said.

"Yeah and guess what he proposed we played."

"I doubt it was a game of cricket," Casey joked. He'd only met Sir Malachi once and the aversion had been mutual, especially after the way he'd made fun of hockey.

"He'd play cricket if there was a role playing game for it," Raph jeered around a mouthful of sashimi.

"Dude, you can make roleplay out of anything! That's the beauty of it!" interceded Michelangelo with a glimmer in his eyes.

"Yeah, and I have a score to settle with Malachi for giving Mikey the idea," Raph said, smacking his fist into his other palm. "He actually had us try out a Starvation Run LARP. I hadn't even recovered from Malachi's game!"

"Starvation Run? That movie about the chick that gets sent to these games where everybody kills each other?" Casey's eyebrows quirked, fork held halfway to his mouth.

"How do you make a LARP of a movie if you already know how it's going to end?" April asked as well. "Isn't it supposed to be about improv and stuff?"

Leonardo let out a cynical snicker.

"Well, we were supposed to make ourselves whole new characters, but Mikey here kind of ruined it because of course he had to be Catmint…"

"Um, hello? It's called an alternate universe, look it up sometime!" the turtle took a bite of his spring roll and proceeded to finish making his point with his mouth full. "Besides, how could I miss my chance at being Catmint for one day? Oh man, she's sooo cool! I wish I was her, she's awesome with the bow and arrows!"

"You're already like twice as good as she is, ya ding-dong!" Raph cried in frustration.

"Yeah but she's all heroic and stuff, and brave, and kicks butt and is smart and…"

"Hey you think they should make a movie about us, then? Because I don't know about you guys, but I think I'd pawn this Catnip person to the ground in pretty much every aspect," Raph protested.

"Excuse you, it's Catmint, not Catnip."

"Are you like a Catmint fanboy, Mikey?" Casey asked, bemused.

At that, the orange-clad turtle stood up straight, chest puffed out, kissed his forefinger and pointed it towards the ceiling dramatically, then whistled an evocative four-note tune as sole response. The other brothers engaged in a collective face palm while both Casey and April stared in confusion.

"Did he just somehow give me the finger?" Casey said, directing his bewilderment to the whole of the group.

"No! That was the District 12 salute!" Mikey exclaimed in disbelief, outraged by such scandalous lack of culture. "Well, you know, minus a couple fingers… Hey, you guys should join us next time!"

"I dunno, I haven't even seen those movies," Casey said, sounding very uninterested. Not that that would give Mikey any pause...

"Oh, no worries! I can totally make your character bios for you like I did last time. I set it all up for them like a pro game master," Mikey said, pointing at his brothers. "Raph was District 1, cuz he would be a trained tribute for sure and he would totally volunteer for the Starvation Run. Then Leo was District 2, cuz that's where all the Peacekeeper agents are trained… Oh, and Karai was district 7," Mikey said and turned to Karai as though inciting her to tell it.

"Because of that one crazy girl from the second movie," Karai added. "She was nuts, walking around in the raw, I loved her."

Mikey gave a confirmatory nod.

"And of course Donnie was District 3: the 'nerd' district," he finished with an evil grin.

Donatello raised one proud eyebrow ridge.

"I like to think of it as the genius district, thank you very much."

"You would, ya giant nerd," Raph grunted.

"Say what you will, meathead, I still won the LARP" Donnie replied, his arms crossed in a show of superiority.

"That's cuz you're almost as big of a LARP nerd as Mikey."

"Do not tempt the game master, Raph," Michelangelo threatened in an ominous voice. "You don't want this karma on your next game."

"What makes you think I wanna be in your next game?" Raph retorted, though actually he couldn't wait to inflict his mighty retaliation upon them all.

While the rest were still in heated conversation about who was the biggest nerd, Donnie glanced down at April not for the first time noticing the absent stare or the dark circles under her eyes. She didn't look like she was following the conversation at all anymore.

"You're very quiet tonight, April," he ventured softly, and he was met with a pair of heavy-lidded eyes.

"Yeah, you haven't said a word all evening," Casey added then, one eyebrow lifted.

"I've said words!" April protested wanely. "I'm just a little tired. I didn't sleep well last night," she shrugged noncommittally, forcing a yawn.

"How's that exam going?" Donnie asked in a bout of concern, having the distinct hunch that school was only part of the problem, though he preferred not to touch the subject of her dad while celebrating. She'd mentioned Kirby had been having acute night terrors and he could tell she was having a hard time even when she didn't say.

"Ugh… don't remind me," she groaned. "I can't seem to get the hang of some of those problems, it's driving me nuts. And the exam is next week," she added, a look of absolute dread on her face.

"If you want, I could try to explain it to you. We could have a study session, the three of us!" Donnie offered with utmost enthusiasm.

"Geez, Donnie, do you have to bring up school at a party?" Casey said as if the sole mention of the word 'school' were nothing short of toilet talk.

Donnie was going to retort but April was quicker.

"Actually, that would be great!" she said, ignoring Casey's interruption, then she turned to the human boy. "We should do it, Casey. Donnie's a great teacher."

"A nerd like him, I'd expect nothing less."

That earned him a piece of sashimi to the face, which April had to duck to avoid.

"Bonehead," Donnie murmured just loud enough for him to hear.

"Smartass," Casey countered, flinging a wet noodle in his direction. But Donatello dodged the projectile with ninja speed and the noodle smacked Leonardo on the back of the head instead.

"What are you doing?" Leo exclaimed, twisting towards them and throwing them a look of affront while Karai laughed beside him.

"Good one, Jones," Karai said, and Casey acknowledged the felicitation with a satisfied smirk.

"Will you two goofballs stop that? I'd like to actually eat some of this food," April chastised and said goofballs adopted an efficient look of compunction. Leonardo shook his head slowly.

"Hold still, Leo" Karai's voice said in his ear and he froze, watching through the corner of his eye as Karai outstretched her hand towards him. For a moment she looked like she was going to caress his cheek and he tensed in expectation, suppressing a shiver. But alas, her hand went past Leo's ear and started peeling the noodle from his blue bandana. Karai let the noodle hang from her fingers for a couple of seconds, gloating over the effects of her actions, and then dropped it casually on her tongue.

Leo peered at the wink she gave him with mixed feelings. Luckily the others were already back to their own conversations and didn't witness this exchange.

"I'm not calling Master Splinter a druggie! All I'm saying is alcohol should be treated with respect!" he heard Donnie argue behind him.

"So where were we?" Karai said to regain the turtle's attention, leaning on the counter and chewing pointedly.

Leonardo stammered.

"Uh, we were…" he halted, and switched to Japanese. "We were talking about Fūtarō Yamada and his Ninpōchō series"

He wasn't expecting the sharp chuckle she gave him then.

"You're so cute when you try".

Leo scowled.

"What do you mean?"

"Your accent's terrible."

"Hey, I wasn't born in Japan like you!"

"Don't be mad, Leo. I just like teasing you because you get all proud and pissy."

Leo had to contain himself before he proved her right yet again.

"Shall we go on, then?" Leo invited, his aggravation successfully contained for the moment.

"Of course, silly," Karai said, laughing at the stately semblance that Leo was putting on for her. "You were saying you've read one of his books?"

"Yeah, Kōga Ninpōchō."

"Hmm, sounds familiar. What's it about?"

"It's about this deadly confrontation between the Iga and the Kōga ninja, and how the future leaders of both clans fall in love."

Karai did an intrigued rut of her eyebrows.

"Oh really..." she said suggestively, and Leo's cheeks immediately began to feel hot. "Did you read it recently?"

"I read it many years ago," he said, once again nervous about what Karai's suggestions usually brought on, his heart suddenly hammering excitedly. He hadn't thought about the parallels and now she was deliberately playing him like a shamisen. Man, he had to learn to choose his conversation topics better... "It was a good read, I read it for all the ninja stuff, not… not the romance..."

The was a fraction of a second's pause.

"Hmm…" Karai uttered thoughtfully, and Leo could've sworn she looked upset all of a sudden. But he could never be sure…He allowed her a few seconds to make her move, hoping for the usual haughty smirk full of confidence but all he got was a frowning silence.

"What?" Leo asked at length when she wouldn't say anything.

He faltered, and this time it wasn't out of fluster. What just happened? What did I say?

"Nevermind," Karai replied, shaking a hand in the air in a clear attempt to downplay. She wasn't fooling Leo, though. Any other day she was an expert at hiding beneath masks of unabashed kunoichi confidence, but tonight he knew better. He'd been on edge the entire evening, throwing her side glances wondering if it had been a good idea bringing her here. She'd seemed fine, but the mention of her past aggression on Murakami obviously struck a chord. Her sudden seriousness had completely knocked him off balance, because it was frustratingly inscrutable.

Karai cleared her throat and tucked a strand of her black mane behind her ear. "I might have to reread that book," she commented.

"I can lend it to you if you want," Leo said and he elbowed her fondly, trying to make her smile again. He'd take all the ambiguous flirting, exhausting though it was, over this any day.

"Yeah, I'll ask you for it one of these days," Karai agreed, hardly looking at him as she sipped from her glass, her brow still wrinkled in thought.

Saddened by the direction in which the conversation had suddenly deviated, Leonardo mimicked her, taking a long gulp of his lychee flavoured Ramune soda. He tried to focus on the other discussions taking place in the room in an attempt to distract his own mind from the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, but his thoughts always meandered back to Karai, now quiet and pensive at his side.

He couldn't understand what he could have possibly said to make her fall into this sudden mutism. Thinking back to all the times that Donatello had seemed confused or frustrated about April, he wondered if this impenetrableness was a trait of all women. If that were the case, then he wished he were brave enough to ask or wise enough to see the little things that were inadvertently escaping his most scrupulous attention. When it came to this, it seemed it didn't matter how brilliant or astute any of them were, because both brothers were failing miserably and there was no science nor training that could have prepared them for it.

And on top of that, there was the matter of Karai's process of adaptation to her new life. Even months later, and when she tried hard to appear composed in front of them, despite everyone's best efforts at making her feel welcome she was still struggling. Leo was well aware of the tremendous leap of faith that had been the passage from being Oroku Saki's daughter, heir of the Foot Clan, to practically an outcast, daughter of a ninja master who lived secluded from the world and roommates with a group of mutant turtle teens. This oddball family of his was now all that she had in this world and he couldn't blame her for her insecurity.

He wanted nothing more than to trust his gut, to tell her everything would be alright, that they were in this together now. He wanted to promise to her that she would feel right at home with time, and that meanwhile she could always count on him. But when he saw her like this, so impervious and unfathomable, he couldn't help but think that maybe there was more to it than she was letting out. That she was hiding something. And he didn't want to be wrong again. He'd been wrong so many times...

Without realizing it, Leonardo's eyes had drifted to Karai as his thoughts ran like rapids, anxious and turbulent, and only when the girl turned to meet his gaze did he realize he was staring. But before he could recover, a devious grin had spread on her face and without further preambles she gripped Leonardo's arm in a lock and pulled him towards her with such force that he almost spilled his drink. Before he had time to react she stole a light peck on his cheek, so light it was barely perceptible. Leonardo still noticed though, and when she finally released his arm he recoiled, utterly disconcerted.

"What the-" Leonardo blurted out back in his first language, astounded by the way she could jump from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other in the blink of an eye.

"You had a drop of soy sauce on your cheek, probably from that noodle attack," she said, shrugging in a carefree manner.

"Would you please stop using me as your dinner plate?" Leonardo complained rubbing his cheek, still a little shaken by the abrupt change in attitude.

"And waste this expensive soy sauce? Don't be absurd." Karai gave him a friendly nudge and she got back to her drink, admiring Leo's blush and with the clear satisfaction of having put it there.

The turtle sighed, but smiled in seeing her back to her usual self. Maybe he was reading too much into things. Maybe she really was alright and he was the one who needed to relax.

"Who's ready for the special?"

Leonardo's present thoughts flew out the window at Murakami's words. The teaser had a powerful effect on everyone present, shutting them all up instantly and gaining their undivided attention. The turtles fixed their eyes on the food tray concealed behind the old man's back like four hungry hounds waiting for their treat.

"Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy," Mikey chanted. "I think I know what he means!"

"We all know what he means, little brother!" Raphael gave him a light smack on the back of the head, but his mouth was as watery as everybody's.

Murakami took out the metal tray from behind him holding it high for everyone to behold, and the response would not have been more grandiose if it had been a jewel encrusted crown on a velvet cushion.

"Pizza gyoza!"

The restaurant exploded in cheers and impatient sounds of shifting bar stools as he served them all one plate at a time, starting with Splinter and working his way around the bar. By the time he reached Karai and went back to his stove, the dumplings had disappeared from Mikey's plate.

Raphael glanced sideways at Mikey's clean plate and then at Mikey, eyes narrowed in distrust at his brother's suspicious look of innocence. He slid his own plate away and shielded it with his arms before he continued eating. Plans thwarted, Mikey buried a scrunched up chin on his crossed arms.

"Man, I love Japanese food!" Casey mumbled with a mouth full of gyoza.

"Actually, this isn't what you'd call traditional jap-" Donatello was going to correct him, but Casey cut him short with a belch that made the soy sauce ripple in its platter.

"Ew! Casey!" April cried, flapping a hand between her and Casey's mouth.

"Real classy, Jones…"

"Ooh, ooh, I know just what to reply to that!" Mikey exclaimed two seats down the bar before adopting a pose of zen concentration, as if he was channeling some inner energy flowing from his center. Then, with his arms raised high in a religious fashion, he unloaded a glass shattering burp lasting three whole mississippi's.

"Auughhh Mikey!" Raph groaned, covering his snout.

Splinter, whose sensitive nose and ears had to agree with Raphael, was about to call for decency when Murakami stopped him.

"Let the boys play, Splinter-san. They've been through a lot, you all deserve some time off, even from some social conventions."

Splinter merely grunted as sole confirmation. Perhaps he was right.

Leonardo, however, was red as a poppy.

"Seriously, guys? You're doing this in front of Murakami-san and Sensei!"

Neither Mikey nor Casey seemed to care.

"Oh-ho! So is that how it's gonna be?" the gap-tooth grin on Casey's face spread into a wolfish sneer and he took a long gulp of his soda.

"Oh, come on" Donatello said, covering his ears in anticipation, and he saw April push her stool away from the bar, reeling as Casey put on his war face. The human boy looked at his mutant challenger dead in the eye, planted his palms on the bar and heaved, releasing forth what could have perfectly been the roar of a thousand hell hounds.

"Stooooop!" Leo whined, hiding his embarrassment behind his hands and eyeing Murakami and Splinter through the slits between his fingers. The cook looked amused, but Splinter was shaking his head slowly, leaning away towards the corner of the bar in a feeble attempt to avoid any collateral damage. It would prove difficult though as the orange-clad turtle was currently climbing onto the bar counter with an air of defiance.

"You dare challenge me, puny human! Prepare to suffer the wrath of Michelangelord, God of Thunder!"

Wrath of the gods it was. The people sitting closest to Mikey swore they felt their clothes and bandanas wave in the air. Michelangelo's counter strike might have reached a 9 in the Richter scale, had Donatello brought his sensor with him. Something that could very well show up on the news the following morning as dozens of New Yorkers called in to report a brief but intense tremor in the vicinity of the tiny noodle shop tucked away in a corner of a dead end street.

Mikey plopped down on his stool looking dizzy as the aftershocks faded and not even the more squeamish could contain the laughter.

"Ahhh… wouldn't want to follow that," Raphael commented in a collected manner, in the way that a presenter would at a chess game. Then he turned to Casey with a knowing look.

"So what do you say? Fold?"

"If I do this anymore I'm going to puke. How about you, Raph? Care to weigh in?"

"I would, but… after that I can only embarrass myself."

"Oh yeah! I win! Mikey wins! You amateurs thought you could beat me at my own game!"

"Congrats, little brother!" Karai said as she merrily applauded. "If only I was as talented."

The young turtle was visibly pleased by his big sister's praise.

"I can teach you!" he said, and leaned forward on the counter. "Come on, show me what you can do!"

Karai then sucked in some air and let out a burp as brief and light as the snap of a twig. Leonardo stifled a snicker, touched by the cuteness of it. So she was a bit like a girl sometimes after all…

"Not bad, not bad. But you have to feel it. Next time, try using your diaphragm," Mikey advised generously.

"Lemme try that again."

And this time they all gawped in awe at the sound coming out of Karai's mouth, as powerful and resounding as a trombone, and if she hadn't been right before their noses they would've thought a burly truck driver with a beer belly had just come through the door. Leo's expression was a colorful blend of many contradicting emotions. His smile had been torn right off, transferred right onto Mikey's face which was alight with jubilation.

"That was amazing, big sis!" Mikey exclaimed. "With a little technique, you could be second best! I shall train you in my ways!"

"Arigato gozaimasu," Karai pronounced ceremoniously, both palms pressed together and bowing her head like after combat.

Splinter looked around the room and smiled optimistically, his eyes lingering on the content smirk on his daughter's face as the others clapped and cheered. He congratulated Murakami for his vision, and the man nodded confidently.

All is well, he thought warmly, and he gave himself permission to relax for the rest of the evening as plate after plate came and went until eventually Murakami announced the close.

"What's this? All the food is gone?" Michelangelo gasped dramatically before yelling "Not on my watch!" and he suddenly bolted from his seat with the fanfare of a superhero to retrieve his surprise, which was sitting in a corner.

"More food? I'm going to burst" April said lethargically. "How can you guys fit so much under those plastrons?" She went on, genuinely amazed though not surprised. She'd seen the turtles eat too many times to ever be surprised again.

Donnie chuckled beside her. "If you'd spent fifteen years of your life feeding on algae and worms you would understand."

April winced in sympathy and gave his arm a few compassionate rubs, eliciting a sheepish chuckle.

"Feast your eyes! And then your mouths!" Mikey announced triumphantly, unveiling what closely resembled a cake and placing it on the counter as everyone leaned in to take a closer look. It was a scary looking cake with red, crooked letters decorating the white frosting.

"What's it say? 'Happy Sens'?" Leonardo said, squinting at the barely intelligible writing.

"'Happy Sensei Day', duh. I just couldn't fit the entire thing on the top, so…" Mikey turned the cake around, showing them the rest of the letters written on the side.

"It looks like something Chucky would cook."

Raph's observation earned him a few laughs.

"Hey! I made this cake, I can take away your cake privileges, bro!"

"That's probably saving me a few trips to the toilet, so thanks!"

Splinter intervened with an authoritative voice.

"Raphael, Michelangelo made this with love and generosity."

"And knowing him, probably lint from the crevices of his shell too."

Casey gave a loud guffaw at that.

"That's disgusting, man!" he laughed, and unlike the rest, he seemed absolutely delighted with the mental image it evoked.

"Fine, you don't get a piece either," Mikey grumbled, protectively sliding the cake away from the pair.

"They're only joking, Mikey," April said sweetly one hand on his shell. "I'll try it."

"Wait, sensei has to cut it!"

"Use Leo's sword!" Casey proposed.

"What? No!" Leo exclaimed, horrified by the notion.

"It's only cake, it's cut grosser stuff. I say go for it," Karai said, and the turtle in blue didn't have it in him to contradict her, especially after seeing his master's face as he looked at his daughter, an ample smile under his snout. Leo obliged and tossed Splinter his niten ryu.

Splinter wielded the sword in a ritualistic manner and cocked the cake's plate in one smooth swing of the blade, spinning it like a deranged merry-go-round covered in fondant. He raised the sword over his head and brought it down multiple times at lighting speed. When the cake stopped turning, it was perfectly sliced in equal portions. Then, using the blade as a spatula he distributed the pieces to each of the platters and ceremoniously cleaned it with a napkin like a samurai after a kill before giving it back to Leonardo.

"Don't worry, Leo. Someday you too will cut cakes like sensei," Karai teased at the look of admiration on the turtle's face as he slid the blade back into its sheath. She took a couple of servings and handed one to Leo, keeping the other.

"Thanks." He took the plate, his lips pursed in mock annoyance.

"Come on, Raph," April said, handing him the piece of cake. Raphael shrugged.

"Eh, I'll take my chances," he said, accepting the plate and taking a forkful. "Mm! Hey! Whaddya know, it's actually good!"

"Yeah, I mean it's not winning any pageants," Donnie said, turning his plate around to look at the red scribbles on his slice, "but it's beautiful on the inside."

The rest of them seemed to agree and Mikey gave a disgruntled sigh.

"I followed the recipe, like I promised. No extra ingredients for you lame squares."

"Thank you, Michelangelo," Splinter said kindly, laying one fatherly hand on his son's shoulder. "That means a lot."

"Okay, and now that we all have cake, we can take out the presents!" Mikey yelled, sprinting off to one corner of the room for the second time that night with the piece of cake in his hand singing "gotta get a gi- gotta get a gi- gotta get a gift for Splinter!". There he slapped away the drapes to uncover a long package propped against the window and he was back in the shake of a turtle's tail, setting the package on the table in front of his father, who scowled disapprovingly.

"I told you boys, no presents on Sensei Day."

"We made an exception this one time," Donatello said before putting the fork back in his mouth and chewing happily.

"Open it, sensei!" Mikey cried hopping on his heels, unable to contain his excitement.

Splinter shook his head, but there was a small smile on his snout as he started peeling off the modest red wrapping.

"Happy Sensei Day!" they yelled in unison when the package finally lay unwrapped in Splinter's claws as he gazed down upon it, knowing what this object was the very instant he set eyes on it.

"The sword of Yurikawa…" Splinter breathed in awe.

"We all contributed, but Karai was the one who found it," April chimed in right away.

"This… must have cost a fortune," Splinter said in all confusion, a concerned crinkle on his brow.

"Not really..."

"Yeah, we stole it," Karai said lightly and Splinter bristled.

"You stole-?!"

"She's joking, sensei! Honest!" Leo quickly interjected looking positively mortified and Karai exploded in laughter at her father's face of utmost horror.

"No, but you could say it was a steal. I saw it in this antique store," she explained, still laughing. "The owner thought it was just an antique sword like any other, but I recognized it immediately. This thing belongs in a museum. If the idiot knew she was practically giving away such a valuable piece..." Karai seemed all too proud of the way she had rickroll'd that woman, taking advantage of her ignorance. Still, she had done nothing illegal… But Leo would've certainly offered a bit more if only out of pity.

Splinter regarded the sword with moist eyes, unsheathing it and running his fingers along the cool, engraved surface of the blade. He lifted his eyes to see all his sons and daughters standing quietly on either sides of him, watching him with loving eyes full of self-satisfaction. They could never know just how much he loved them, but he hoped his smile and his glossy eyes would give them a small insight. When his gaze met Karai's, he presented her with the tiniest of nods, and felt a warmth swell in his center when she returned it, beaming.

"Thank you," he said slowly, carefully so his voice wouldn't break. "Nothing makes me happier than being here surrounded by my family. I speak nothing but the truth when I say I would not have it any other way. I will guard this for its value, but I will treasure it because it came from you all, my children."

"Oh man, Sensei, that was so pretty!" Mikey gulped after a short silence and he promptly threw himself face first into Splinter's robes. Immediately everybody else did the same, stools knocked aside, one by one wrapping themselves around the growing cornucopia of family love until they were but a giant, giggly, teary lump of mostly mutants in the middle of the noodle bar.

"My children," Splinter repeated, voice cracking under seven different pairs of arms as Murakami smiled from the side like he could see each and every happy face.

Donatello was the first to waggle himself out of the bundle to quickly pull out his T-Phone.

"You guys, this is what I call a Kodak moment."

"A what kind of moment?" Mikey asked waiting for the lump to slowly dissolve before being able to disengage himself from his master.

"It's a joke. Though, I admit, kind of outdated…"

"Picture time, Mikey," Raphael clarified.

"Alright! Picture time!" Mikey shouted, and he moved to join everybody already in position around their sensei, practically jumping on top of the counter.

"Hold up your sword, Master Splinter," Donnie asked while he calibrated the phone and set it on a counter opposite them, with a timer set to ten seconds. "There."

"Join us, Murakami-san!" Mikey said as Donatello hurried back to occupy his place in the group of people all scrunched together in a bundle and getting Casey's arm thrown across his shoulders.

"Oh, this is a family thi-" Murakami couldn't finish the sentence, Mikey having just yanked his arm after climbing over the bar to make him join them at the last second.

"Say gyoza!" Mikey yelled.

"GYOZA!"

Bellies full and plates licked clean, dinner finally came to a lazy end.

"All gone," Mikey groaned around the last mouthful of cake, drowsily patting his taut stomach.

"Man, I hope we left something for tomorrow's customers, Murakami-san," Donnie said looking exhausted, and he pulled on the edge of his belt in a futile attempt to loosen it over his stuffed middle.

"Don't worry, there's plenty. I planned ahead," Murakami said with a knowing smirk.

With so much food weighing them down, it was a good thing they wouldn't be patrolling tonight. But even though none of them was in a hurry to get to sleep, seeing as how most of their activities took place during the night anyway, April and Casey still had class the very next morning. And as Splinter pointed out, Mr. Murakami still had much to do before locking up.

"Don't worry, Murakami-san, we got this!" Donnie said, stopping the old man from taking his empty plate. He heaved himself and his full stomach off the stool and started making a tall pile of dishes to carry over to the sink. Leonardo sprang from his own stool to mimic him, followed by April, who had been absentmindedly staring into empty space until she saw Donatello move.

"Oh, thank you boys, that's not necessary."

"We insist. It's the least we could do," Leo said cordially, pulling Raph and Mikey to their feet to get them to help too.

"Yeah, alright," Raph agreed half-heartedly.

With everybody helping, the place was soon close to ready for another day of business.

"Such good boys. You taught them well, Hamato-sensei."

"Yes, well…We could always work on those table manners," Splinter said, recalling the burping contest with a disapproving wiggle of his whiskers.

"A trifle, really. Thank you for coming, Splinter-san," Murakami said in his mother tongue and with a short bow.

"Thank you for the delicious meal, Murakami-san. It was a real pleasure meeting you at last."

"Same here. I hope to have you over again soon."

"You will, but next time I expect you let us pay for the food."

Murakami chuckled deviously.

"We'll see."

"All finished," Leonardo said, putting down the sponge and untying his apron. "Another job well done, turtles."

There was a general sigh of relief and Murakami thanked them all for their help before they finally made to leave.

"Don't forget your present, Sensei," Mikey said.

"Never," Splinter replied, holding the sword close.

"Alright, all clear," said the leader in blue, his head peeking out the front door and signalling the others to follow suit. By the time they made it to the nearest manhole it was already past midnight.

"Well, this is us," Leo announced to the humans as Raph slid open the heavy cover, the metal raking noisily on the concrete ground.

"I had a great time, guys."

"Night, April!" came the chorus' reply.

"Happy Sensei Day, Master Splinter," she said, giving the rat a hug.

"Goodnight, child. See you tomorrow for training?"

"Oh, sorry, I don't think I'll make it tomorrow. But the day after?"

Splinter nodded his head and set to follow Leonardo down the ladder.

"Don't forget our date with the Purple Dragons tomorrow, Raph," Casey said to Raph, offering his hand.

"Wouldn't want to leave our friends hanging," Raph replied, a fiendish grin on his face and they both shared their private bro handshake before the turtle jumped inside the manhole. The rest said their goodbyes before following Raph down the chute one by one.

"Holy crap, it's late," April said urgently, looking at her T-Phone after watching Karai climb down, leaving only Donnie and the two humans. "I gotta get to bed or I'll never be able to wake up tomorrow."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. She'd gotten used to sleeping less ever since she started hanging out with the turtles in their rather nocturnal habits. But if tonight was going to be anything like the previous several nights, she would be waking up to her dad's screams several times before her alarm clock rang.

"I'll walk ya," Casey offered and April didn't need to look at Donnie to see the slightly envious squint of his eyes.

"Sure, Casey."

Casey turned to Donatello and gave him a resounding smack on his shell.

"Maybe next time, Stick Master."

"Right. Good one," the turtle grumbled drily.

"Come on, Don, I'm just teasin'."

Donnie gave a resigned roll of his eyes but grinned as they gave each other a routine fist bump. He knew he was at least telling the truth there, even when to him there was nothing funny to begin with.

"Later, man."

"Bye, Case. Oh, and gimme a call when you're up for that study session," Donnie said, speaking to the two humans.

Casey groaned and April shoved him along, turning to reply to Donatello.

"We will, Donnie. Thanks a lot."

And she draped her arms around him. It wasn't by far the first time she had done that. But this particular goodnight hug lasted a beat longer than usual, and being Donnie of course he noticed. At this point though, he could at most wonder what it meant, or if it even meant something. As they broke apart, April dedicated him the warmest of smiles, but her eyes were downcast for some reason. This was going to keep him up at night, he just knew it.

"Night, Don," she said and then she was off.

"Night, April," he said softly more to himself than anything else, which kept him distracted from the wary look on Casey's eyes before he, too, turned to leave following April down the street. Donatello watched them go side by side, almost expecting them to hold hands at any given moment. He still couldn't help the heavy feeling in his chest. Oh, how he wished to be able to just walk down the street with April at his side like that.

The feel of April's arms around his neck had been burned into his skin, and immediately he began categorizing all the possible causes and implications. It had just been a couple seconds longer than usual, and perhaps a couple of pascal units tighter, but he was almost certain there was some kind of hidden meaning behind it.

"Coming, D?"

Donnie snapped back to reality, whipping his neck around to Mikey's head peeking out from the manhole.

"Uh, yeah" he called out and in one hop disappeared into the swampy dark below the city surface, the cover sliding back to its place.

"Everything alright, Red?"

April lifted her gaze from the concrete sidewalk she was treading on to meet Casey's, a look of surprise in her clear eyes. He'd been talking about the latest patrol nights with Raph, and he had his hockey stick out to reenact some of the fight scenes, giving the occasional finger at whoever stuck their head out the window whining about the noise. But April didn't look too involved, simply dropping an absent "uh-huh" every now and then.

"Huh? Yeah, why?"

"You seem a little distracted. Were you even listening to what I was saying?"

"Uh, you were talking about you and Raph…"

Casey stared intently, waiting for her to finish with raised eyebrows.

"And… hockey?"

"You know, if I was a girl and you were a dude, I'd be acting very offended right now."

April gave a loud sigh.

"Sorry, I was just thinking."

"'Bout what?

The girl vacillated.

"About that movie…" she lied.

"Starvation Run?" Casey inquired suspiciously after a few seconds of thinking back to Murakami's.

She nodded but didn't look half convinced.

"Yep."

"What about it?"

"Nothing, just that it sounded interesting. I haven't seen it yet" she said dismissively.

"Well, maybe we could watch the movies together. I heard they were playing a marathon at the Argosy" Casey proposed as they both turned the corner, April's building already visible from there. "Now that New York is back on its feet, we can catch up on all the dates you owe me."

To his surprise, the snide remark that usually followed his date requests did not come. Instead, Casey saw April bite her lip.

"Actually, I was waiting for you to ask."

The words hit him like a baseball to the mouth, making him halt his steps briefly. At this point he had been flirting out of pure habit. He had not been expecting that. But April was still walking, so he pranced to catch up with her, almost tripping over his hockey stick.

"Wait, what? Seriously?"

"Yeah! You're right, we should hang out!".

"That's... great!" he said, not entirely sure why her excitement didn't seem all that authentic. He decided it was probably his imagination. This was April asking him for a date! Kind of… "Is that what this was all about?"

"What do you mean?" she retorted, already on the defensive.

"Well, you've been acting weird all night. Were you nervous about asking the cool kid for a date?" he asked playfully, leaning on his hockey stick when they finally came to a halt at her doorstep.

"Cute, Jones. Always the modest one" she said through a lopsided grin. "So what do you say?"

"Wait, we're talking about a real, actual, official... date, right?"

"Yep."

For a moment, Casey only gave April a skeptical frown.

"With like… romantic stuff?" he crooned finally, already back in the game and wiggling his eyebrow.

April crossed her arms in an authoritative posture.

"If you promise to take a shower first."

"Hey! I shower!"

"Yeah, every solstice…", a snarky grin spread through her face.

"That is neither true nor funny. But consider it done, Red!"

"And it wouldn't hurt you to wear something besides that T-shirt, either."

"Fine! I'll see what I can snatch from my dad's closet. Any more requests, commander O'Neil, sir?" Casey joked, standing on attention.

"That's madam to you, soldier."

"Madam, yes, madam. Any more requests, madam?"

"Yeah" April laughed. "Don't be too late."

"You got it, madam! So what time would you like Casey Jones to pick you up?"

"How about tomorrow afternoon?"

"Sure- Oh…" Casey interrupted himself, suddenly remembering. "Aw, man!"

"What?"

Casey winced, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

"The thing is... I was already going to hang out with Raph. We were going to go pick on the Purple Dragons."

"You mean the same thing you do every other day?" She wasn't sure why this bothered her. Maybe after all his insistence, she was expecting a bit more commitment on his part. She knew for a fact that Casey had a personal vendetta with Hun after he mopped the floors with him that day and then many times since, and he'd been tirelessly pressing on the matter these past few weeks. He could be quite boneheaded when he set his mind to it.

"It's not what you think, okay?" he retorted as if he'd read her mind, but then he saw the unconvinced look on her face. "Or, well… not entirely."

He faltered, sensing irritation.

"Look, we've been spying on them lately and we think they might be onto something, so we were going to go check it out. I was telling you about it before, but I guess you didn't hear me..."

"Fine, we can do it some other time. Think you can squeeze me into in your tight schedule somewhere?"

Casey appraised April. She seemed really tense, probably even ticked, and he couldn't be sure why. He quickly tried to make amends.

"Uh, you know what? I'll tell Raph we can do that some other time."

She gave a sigh of exasperation. And no, it wasn't because of Casey, she thought. This was all her, being stressed out and confused and who knows what more. What was up with her tonight? Oh, that's right…

April paused and gathered herself before continuing, a tad more levelheaded.

"No, you don't have to… Ugh, sorry, Casey. I didn't mean to be a jerk, we'll just hang out another day."

"No, no! Tomorrow's great, really!" Casey said, a hint of hesitation in his voice that didn't entirely convince April.

"Are you sure? What about Raph?"

"Don't worry about it, he won't mind."

"Really." It wasn't a question so much as a sarcastic statement.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! So what time?" he insisted almost desperately.

"Well, I was going to go with Karai to this hair stylist she recommended. We could meet at the swings at 5?"

"It's a date" he said, and winked for full effect.

April nodded her head, sealing the deal with a little smile, and that did it for Casey. This was April, and she was finally going to give him a chance. He beamed back at her before she turned to insert her keys into the lock, and then she paused.

"Can I just ask something?" she said, swiveling on the spot. "Could we not mention this to the guys just yet?"

Casey frowned.

"Oh… why?"

April's fingers fidgeted nervously with her keys.

"I don't want them to make a big deal out of it yet."

Casey thought to himself how the only one who was making a big deal out of this was April herself, by asking him to keep it a secret. He wished she would just go ahead and say "I don't want Donnie to know yet" instead of beating around the bush. He would've told her too if it wasn't for that tired expression on her face. He had to admit, this slightly tainted the prospect of a date with April, but he decided to let this one slide for tonight and see where she went with this. Even when he had a strange feeling that there was more to all this than April let out.

He promised he wouldn't tell and she said goodnight from her door before closing it behind her.

Casey had been waiting for this moment forever. So why didn't it feel amazing?

On the other side of the planet, in Japan, Hachisu-no-Hana kneeled in front of her clan's butsudan, an altar containing dozens of ihai. These spirit tablets were the only vestige of the lost members of the clan, the only family she'd known, struck down unjustly by a dishonorable enemy.

It had been a long time since Hachisu had been the treasured flower of the Lotus, years ago when she was a child, before she'd even begun training as future kunoichi. Those happy days full of promise were long gone, and now that she had been proclaimed the kashira, leader of the clan, she was responsible for its decimated remains.

Their home burned to ashes, the remaining Lotus had been forced into hiding. They had found an old abandoned villa in the countryside and conditioned it to their needs, cleaning out the stables and laying out tatami floors to train on. They improvised futons to sleep on and repaired the house's leaks and cracks much in the same way they were trying to fix their own broken spirits. Pushing on, taking refuge on routine.

As she breathed in the burning incense, she visualized the essence of her ancestors soaking through her, giving her strength, and she meditated about the near future when she'd be leading her people through what would likely be their last mission.

And maybe that was best.

As far as she was concerned, there was no better way to die, restoring the honor of the clan in a final blaze of glory, avenging the dozens upon dozens of innocent lives the Foot Clan had taken. This last time they wouldn't fail. She wouldn't fail.

Her eyes drifted away from the altar, and she opened her hand to look at the little trinket contained in it. The pendant's intricate carvings and ornaments were imprinted on the reddened skin of her calloused palm. She hadn't realised how tightly she'd been holding it. Wearily she regarded the object, feeling the presence within, snaking its way up her arm and enveloping itself all around her. A shiver ran up her spine. It still made her uneasy.

"Kashira" came a hushed voice behind her and she started, quickly hiding the pendant in the sash of her uniform in a reflex. She then turned to see her second in command kneeling before her and waiting for an acknowledgement.

"What is it, Jiro?" she asked, her voice terse, hardened by years under the crushing weight of command. The old man had once been her teacher, before she was proclaimed leader. She could tell his joints hurt from kneeling on the floor like that, but he would not have it any other way.

Jiro lifted his eyes but didn't look directly at her like he used to, instead maintaining his head bowed in a show of respect. "We have received word on the whereabouts of Oroku Saki."

The kashira sat up straight.

"He is operating in New York."

"Are you certain of this?" she demanded in a voice that only barely revealed the agitation under the stoic exterior, like a treacherous current at the bottom of a calm ocean surface.

Jiro only nodded curtly and the silence that followed told her he was waiting for her to give the word.

"Then we must communicate it to rest of the clan. Call a meeting" Hachisu ordered, rising to her feet.

Jiro gave a final nod and followed the woman out the door.

Once everybody was gathered in the common room, all fifteen remaining clan members kneeling on the tatami before their kashira, Hachisu motioned for her second in command to announce the news.

As the information sunk in, the emotions on the faces of Hachisu's followers went quickly from shock to an unabashed fury, and at the mention of Oroku Saki's name, more than one pair of eyes ignited with a lust for combat. The youngest of them trembled with excitement.

"So what in hell are we waiting for?" exclaimed a young man barely sprouting his first facial hairs.

"Wakai! Watch your language! We are not in a tavern. Furthermore, we cannot be hasty about this" yelled Jiro with exceptional firmness, but it wasn't enough to placate a boy's anger. The novice disregarded the old man's words.

"Hasu," said the boy, inappropriately using Hachisu's pet name, "those miserable dogs will disappear again if we don't hurry! We must be hasty! Ruthless! We can't let them escape this time! We should slice their throats on sight and make the Shredder and his followers die the slow, dishonorable death that they deserve, let their bodies rot among their own waste, like the scum they are-"

"Silence." Hachisu barely needed to raise her voice. The room fell into a stillness so deep under her glare that they could almost hear each others' racing heartbeats. "This attitude will jeapordize our clan's integrity, and their lives. Learn to contain it. I will not say this again."

The young man gaped, stunned by his clan sister's sudden rigid approach towards him when they had always been so close, until he too lowered his head in submission.
"Hai, kashira."

"You are ninja now. A soldier. You will go by our protocols."

"Hai, kashira."

The next words were directed to the whole of the group.

"We are not dirty thieves that go about 'slicing the necks' of our enemy. They will die as they must, but let it not be said that the Lotus Clan didn't give them an honorable death."

"You think these Foot Clan weasels deserve to die with honor?" said another shinobi, a veteran of the clan pushing fifty, his square face weathered by decades of service.

Jiro answered for Hasu.

"It doesn't matter if they deserve it or not, Iwao. What is important is that history knows that the clan who defeated Oroku Saki was a true ninja clan. It's not about their honor, but ours; the honor of the Lotus Clan. We can never forget that."

"Kashira." The soft voice came from a doe-eyed young girl about the age of Wakai. Hachisu, adrift in her own thoughts, lifted her eyes from her knees at the sound. "Will this be the end of our clan?"

Hachisu held the girl in her gaze. Despite her sweet appearance, she had always been cunning as a kitsune, and now she was asking that one question which, deep down, everybody dreaded hearing out loud as much the inescapable answer.

"Maybe, Atsuko" Hachisu said at length. "But not without a fight. Not without first doing our best to cut off the head of Oroku Saki and offering it to our fallen brothers and sisters."

Atsuko nodded without a hint of doubt or fear. Her integrity became an example for the rest of them. The young woman showed them with one simple gesture that there was nothing else they needed to know and no more questions to ask, and that it was simply the time to act.

They turned their attention then to Hachisu, who once again appeared deep in thought as she caressed the side of her sash. Hachisu's gesture and odd silence rose a wave of unease in Jiro's gut, like something was not right. She'd been acting strangely as of late. He tried to regain her attention while concealing his own turmoil.

"Kashira?"

"Yes, Jiro" Hachisu said, her thoughts finally back in the room with them and taking her hand down from her sash to rest on her thigh.

"What must we do?"

"You know what we must do, my faithful Jiro" she said, then turned to the other loyal faces around the room. "We will leave for New York at dawn. Once there we will see, and may our ancestors guide us."

"So be it, kashira" said Jiro.

She contemplated her followers in silence and with one final nod she brought the meeting to an end, silently giving permission for them to go. Jiro bowed, a gesture that was mimicked by all the others before they all rose and made to leave.

One by one they walked out and soon Hachisu was alone again, listening to their voices as they made their way through the courtyard.

"You're going to spend the rest of the day cleaning the dojo. And don't let me catch you with that infernal game device on our trip or I will set fire to it" she heard Jiro scold Wakai, as well as Wakai's subsequent groan of defeat. The corners of her mouth flicked upwards for a split second.

When their voices faded, she took out the pendant from her sash and held it in her palm, studying it.

If it wasn't so crazy, she could've sworn the pendant had stirred the moment she said the name of Oroku Saki out loud, as if what was inside had shaken like a wounded bird at the mention of its predator. Clearly recent events had disturbed it.

"You must find him, Hachisu-no-Hana. He must die."

Her breath caught in her chest and she felt her own blood grow cold. There was nobody in the room, but she had heard it as clear as if it had been whispered in her ear, or even… inside her own head. She couldn't know for sure. Yet she gave the pendant a squeeze, because this she knew:

"It's you again, isn't it?" she asked the emptiness as levelly as she could, but the only answer was the frigid grip of ghostly fingers on her shoulders. She slumped and tensed under the invisible weight.

"He will die. He will pay" she choked. This anger and this sadness that she was feeling weren't just hers anymore. The emotions oozed from the pendant now gripped between her fingers and digging into her palm, and they coursed through her veins as though they were her own. Like the ringing in her ears after a deafening sound, the voice was back.

"I'm counting on it, Hachisu-no-Hana."

A lock of black hair fell over her face and Hasu shut her eyes tight when she realized it wasn't hers.

"You can't fail."

"I won't." And it was just as much a promise to herself as it was to the soul whose feelings of betrayal could barely be contained in that tiny, chipped piece of ceramic.

Slowly, as though reassured by her promise, the weight on her shoulders receded and she was finally able to move. She stood and scrambled over to the adjacent room to place the pendant in the little wooden box covered with engraved ofuda, sealing it closed with a hasty click. She let out a breath of relief as momentarily she felt the pressure wane.

The chill running through her bones, however, took a while longer to dissipate.

That's it for chapter 1! Let us know what you thought of it, feedback is welcome!

A huge thank you to our beta reader Queequegg. Thank you guuuurl!