Zen and the Art of Rescue Missions, Chapter Two

[lonewolfprincess]

“I am taking my lunch break outside!” Cassandra proclaimed to her manager… and the whole store while she was at it. “Do not disturb us!”

And with that she ferried April and the strange, quiet boy who wouldn’t stop staring at her outside to stand halfway between the alley and the sidewalk, not even pausing as she threw a storm gray snow coat over her candy-colored uniform.

“Here.” She hastily unwrapped a bento box, plucked off the lid, and thrust a brownie square each at April and her tagalong. “These are homemade; vastly superior to the soulless blocks they are peddling inside!”

April chuckled and nodded her thanks as she took her offering. Casey Jr. … his reach was slower, gentler, and he almost cradled the rich brown square before finally looking at her.

“Th-thanks…” he whispered, trying and maybe not quite succeeding at keeping his voice from breaking.

Cassandra threw him a quizzical glare. “What’s wrong? Are they not acceptable?”

“N-no, no of course they are! Just…” Casey Jr. cleared his throat, tried to swallow the lump rising in it. “I… haven’t had many sweets growing up.”

Which wasn’t a lie. The stricter rationing started when he was a toddler as ingredients became scarcer, supply runs more dangerous. Still… his mom found ways to bake him brownies until— … until he was five.

April put a gentle hand on his shoulder as she turned to Cassandra.

“Long story.” She threw a smirk on her face. “So, what are you doing peddling ‘soulless blocks?’ Did Grandma CJ’s get bought out or…?”

Cassandra snorted indignantly. “I would rather resurrect the Shredder again than sell my business, let alone to a rookie shop with abominable design choices and the foolishness to begin selling ice cream in the middle of autumn!”

“… Resurrect the Shredder…?” Casey asked half-under his breath. The question vanished as he took his first bite of the brownie, though, all but melting against the brick wall as the rich chocolate filled his mouth. It took all his willpower to not start crying.

April just laughed. “Thank you!” She grinned fiercely. “Corporate espionage, then?”

Cassandra nodded grimly. “This business is running on a mountain of bad decisions… but somehow they are still making decent sales, which are cutting into my sales! This insult to the Brownie Clan’s honor shall not stand!”

A chorus of car horns from up the street cut off the rest of her vow of vengeance. This time, it seemed, the road rage was justified as a mint green bicycle just cut across the busy street, cyclist screaming as she banked towards them once she reached their side.

Cassandra stepped out to shake her fist at the oncoming cyclist. “Are you insane?! Do you know how many bicycle accidents happen per year in this city alone?! Traffic laws are written in blood, you fool!”

“Sorry!” the cyclist called out as she sped past them. “Emergency!”

Cassandra glared after the retreating cyclist… then turned to the others with a huff.

“At least she’s wearing a helmet…” she grumbled. “Not that it will do her much good if she continues to act so recklessly.”

Casey looked down the road. “Should… we go after her?”

Cassandra waved her hand impatiently. “Terrible cyclists are far too common, and I only have a half hour for my break. She has been duly warned; it is her responsibility to heed it.” She crossed her arms. “Now… what brings you two to this sham of an establishment?”

April smirked, and pulled out her phone. “Just a little investigative journalism. Mind helping us out?”

Cassandra stared at the screenshot… and a wicked grin bloomed on her face.

“With pleasure.”



Kotori kept screaming as she sped through the streets, legs burning as she pedaled like mad. She sweltered under the track suit, helmet, thick cloth gardening gloves, and the surgical mask kept riding up and down her face and made her breath almost unbearably muggy, but it was worth it to keep the chill and whatever caused those half-animal transformations at bay.

“Sure, get a bike, I said!” she griped. “It’ll be useful! That way you won’t need to flee the next alien invasion on foot—WHOA!”

Car, entering the intersection, slamming on its horn as it pulled out right in front of her.

“AH!” Kotori swerved deep into the car lane to avoid getting hit, only to have more cars behind her slam on their brakes, one or two even rolling down their windows to swear at her as she veered back into the bike lane.

“Sorry!” she shouted back over her shoulder.

More honks as she passed a much-slower cyclist pulling his hot dog cart, earning her another fist shake.

“Hey, I’m ridin’ here!”

“Sorry about that—GAH!”

Kotori barely dodged the honking taxi that veered towards her before swerving back out of the bike lane.

“Okay, that one was definitely on you,” she huffed in the taxi’s general direction. Not that she had much room to talk, she knew. Hopefully “my mom got kidnapped” would be a good enough reason to get any traffic tickets dismissed. … Or that her mom would handle the fees at least.

“In 200 feet,” the navigation app chirped, “turn right on West 15th Street.”

“What?!” Kotori’s eyes darted to the stoplight way closer than advertised ahead of her, “W 15th St” hanging from a tiny little green and white sign off the post. She hastily swiped her whole right arm out to signal before swerving hard to another verse of car horns. “Sorry! Again!”

But as her gaze shot forward, her mask trapped the air from her gasp of relief. The street was smaller, crowded with parked cars, but much quieter than the chaotic Manhattan avenue she’d just turned from. And there, a few blocks ahead at the end of the road. A compound of big blocks of concrete crowned with glass and guarded by a gated wall, a billboard on one block emblazoned with a giant “6”.

“Almost there…!” Her legs spun with another burst of speed. “Just need to—"

Oh no.

A moving van crowded the whole right lane in front of what looked like a bike and skate shop, and four burly guys in their thirties sighed as they set down a massive quarterpipe at the base of the van’s ramp.

“Still can’t believe we got this beauty for $300!”

Another dude nodded. “Yeah, really glad Mr. H got a handout for a new store; his old place on 9th got trashed during that gnarly pink gunk explosion—”

Kotori’s eyes darted past the van. One-way street, thank god, so she could just signal and pass—

Another blaring honk from a car right in her blind spot, startling her right back towards the quarterpipe.

The skaters all bugged out at the girl racing towards them.

“Watch out—!” “Brakes, brakes—!” “No, speed up, dudette, you can clear it!” “Are you crazy?! There’s no way she can—!”

Too late. “WHOA!” The next second, Kotori launched off the ramp, screaming as she soared over the moving van and the rest of the street. “AAAAAAAAAAH!”

The four skaters stared up in awe. “Whoa…”

The one with an orange headband broke out in a grin and whooped after her. “SICK AIR TIME, DUDETTE! GO FORTH AND SHRED!”

Kotori probably would’ve smiled and blushed at the praise… if she could hear it over her own screaming.

“AAAAAAAAAAH!”

The street kept sailing beneath her, cars, lampposts, stoplights all darting away until… a broad street slid into view. Kotori finally brought her eyes up and saw the walled lot of Channel 6 Studios… coming towards her way too fast. And gravity finally started tugging the bike towards the ground.

“Oh no oh no oh no oh no!” Kotori turned her gaze skyward. If anyone’s listening, please don’t let me die yet… or at least let me save my mom first…!

Her bike wheels dove down, down, falling faster towards the lip of the wall…

And cleared it with a quarter inch of air.

“WHOA!” Kotori flicked her eyes backward, letting out a dazed laugh. “I can’t believe I—OH GOD!”

Oh. Right. Ground.

“WAH!”

Both bike tires thudded onto the parking lot asphalt. Kotori braced the handlebars hard to keep upright, still peddling with all her might. But wait, no, building up ahead! She steered hard to the left to U-turn, only now remembering to pull her hand brake- wait, no, too hard, and the whole bike skidded sideways across the pavement before screeching to a halt.

Kotori just… sat there. Stiff and shaking. For a good few seconds.

“You have arrived at your destination!” her phone chirped.

“Th-thanks, Navi…” she whimpered back, slumping against the handlebars, before shaking her head to stop the world from wobbling and spinning before her eyes. “A-at least I don’t have to worry about the gate—”

Ah. The lot gate. The one that was currently smashed wide open, most likely courtesy of the Roadhouse BBQ meat truck parked primly in the lot, twisted metal bars strewn around it like water in the wake of a ship but not a scratch on the vehicle. Kotori squinted at the guard station… The gangly man inside seemed unharmed, happily playing on a Switch as he hummed to the soft, chill music of the game.

Kotori… sighed. And bonked her head against the handlebars.

“Well… that was pointless, then…” She lifted her head to pat her cheeks. “Okay, focus. Keep moving. Every second counts.”

She kicked her stand into place, silenced her phone, and unzipped the bag secured behind the seat.

“Yokatta…” she whispered, pulling out the frying pan she’d snagged on her way out the door. Sure, the bag had been zipped tight, and it was high-quality cast iron, but after that wild ride she had to guarantee it was still there, still safe. (Never mind saving her life, her mother would ground her until she was 90 if anything happened to that pan.)

Slowly, she walked towards the building, holding the frying pan out in front of her with ramrod arms. “Now, just gotta figure out—”

Wait, nope! She ducked behind the food truck, only daring to peak out after a few seconds. A lanky, green figure leaned in one building’s doorway, dressed all in denim like some biker in an 80s action movie. He combed his black pompadour absentmindedly, whistling as he stashed the comb back in his jean vest pocket.

“Crap… right, of course he’d guard the building…” she whispered. “Nn… that probably means the back door’s guarded too. So how…?”

Wait… big, public building with lots of people. Tall windows at the top. Maybe…

Very slowly, Kotori darted toward one of the far buildings, careful to keep the truck between her and the green man’s line of sight until she could duck behind a corner. Good. So far so good. Now just sneak along this building until she could reach the alleyway between it and the kitchen studio, duck in, find the fire escape (she really hoped it was an exterior one)—

Just as she found the alley, a loud pop filled the lot, followed by a screeching crunch of metal, and Kotori keeled over to cover her ears.

“What on earth…?”



“WHOO!” Raph grinned as he slammed the throttles on the Turtle Tank further forward, minutes beforehand. “Driving like a boss again!”

“We are so back, baby!” Mikey crowed.

Donnie ran a hand lovingly over one of the consoles. “More importantly, my baby is back, baby! Oh, how I missed the feeling of racing through Manhattan’s streets in a 50-ton tank with reckless abandon!”

More than once during the tail end of their convalescence, Donnie had attempted to sneak, beg, or just plain rush his way out to the Tank for repairs. When potato-sack carries from Raph and lectures from an also-constantly-attempting-bedrest-escapes Leo failed, death smiles from April and Dr. Delicate Touch to go back to bed and rest already worked. … For a day or two at a time.

And of course… seeing Raph at the helm again made the ride all the sweeter, so relieved that his eye had healed enough to be road-worthy again.

“Okay, guys…” Leo said, tracing the holographic GPS with one finger. “Once we get to the studio, we stash the tank and portal onto the studio roof. Then Donnie can hack into the cameras and give us a better view—”

But then Raph took a hard right turn onto 15th Street. With a massive quarterpipe ramp somehow planted in the middle of the road.

The turtles all screamed.

“Gun it gun it gun it!” Leo yelled.

“Raph is gunning it!”

Meanwhile, the skaters’ jaws dropped at the sight of a tank barreling down the street towards them!

“Hit the deck!” The one with the blue denim jacket called out, all his friends throwing themselves to the ground as far away from the ramp as possible.

The turtles screamed as the Tank made contact with the ramp… and launched into the air, soaring high above the street.

The skaters lifted their heads and stared in awe.

“Duuuuuudes…” they all said in one hushed whisper.

The one with the orange headband grinned again and dashed towards the skate shop door. “Yo, Mr. H! Your pipe just launched a freaking tank, you want an extra hundred?!”

The tank’s drivers all screamed as they flew through the air like a boulder from a catapult, Mikey clinging to Leo and Donnie both like a starfish.

“AAAAA-wait, hold on!” Donnie stopped suddenly, actually grinning and rubbing his hands together. “Ohhh yes, I’ve been meaning to test out the new features!”

“Less evil monologuing, more pushing buttons, Dee!” Leo shouted.

Donnie rolled his eyes as a console panel flipped over and presented a Big Orange Button.

“So impatient…” But he obliged and pressed it.

“Impact Imminent,” the AI’s voice called out.

Outside, a massive orange airbag enveloped the Turtle Tank’s undercarriage as it vaulted over the studio lot wall and plummeted into the parking lot… onto a mostly empty spread of asphalt. Only a second later, though, the vinyl exploded, and the tank dropped to the ground with a screeching crunch.

“Ugh…” Mikey slowly rose his head up from the floor where he and his brothers were strewn about like ragdolls. But then he realized hey, he could raise his head, and popped to his feet with a delighted gasp. “Yay, we’re alive~!”

Leo groaned, wincing as that stubborn twinge in his shell flared back to life.

“Barely…” He gave Donnie a glare as he took a well-appreciated hand from Raph and righted himself. “Let me guess, Dontron… still in beta?”

Donnie growled as he hoisted himself to his feet too. “No, no, no-no-no, that should have been a steady, gentle deflation! Not a pop! I tested it five times already!” He stomped towards the back hatch, hands still flailing and clenching wildly. “And what was that noise, that better not have been an axle!”

The turtles all scrambled after their brother as he stormed out of the tank.

“Donnie, we can fix that later…!” Raph hissed, hastily scanning the lot. “Meats Sweats ain’t working alone, we’re gonna get spotted—”

His stage whisper died as his eyes fell on Loathsome Leonard, standing in the doorway of one of the studios… fussing with a pocket mirror. Completely oblivious to the tank that just fell out of the sky.

Raph’s face fell flatter than the airbag. “Right. Forgot just how big a set of dumbasses they are…”

Donnie, meanwhile, barely paid attention, pressing a button on the tank’s side to retract the airbag (he’d patch it back at the lair) and conjuring a mystic jack to raise the tire that sat just a little too high off the ground.

“Aha!” The softshell pulled the culprit free, holding up… what had probably been a bicycle at one point. Now it looked more like an art student’s sculpture of a shriveled-up spider. In mint green. “As I suspected: outside interference!” He hummed as he blithely tossed the mangled ex-bike behind him. “Note to self, though, research alternate textiles for better puncture resistance…” A quick glance at the tires and axles. “Okay, phew, we’re still road-worthy, gentlemen! Back to saving the day!”

Raph and Mikey winced a little… Collateral damage was par for the course, but that looked like it’d been a really, really cute bike in life. Leo, meanwhile… this section of the lot was mostly empty, not to mention there was probably a designated area for bike racks or something. Something about this felt off.

But no time to puzzle that out. “Okay, good. Donnie, bring up the security feed?”

Donnie nodded, pulling up his “Tap into Every Security Camera in New York” app on his phone, then summoned his ninpō to construct a 3D hologram model of the whole lot.

Leo tiled his head. “Okay, so this is the Cuisine Channel studio here…” Leo pointed a green finger at the building with two tiny figures standing at the front and back doors. “Meat Sweats has guards posted here and here and…” he squinted at the north side of the building. “What the heck is that…?”

Donnie blew up the model to enhance. Another figure, crouched on the fire escape, humanoid from what they could tell beneath the track suit, hood up over… a bike helmet. Ah.

“Welp, looks like we found our mystery cyclist. Now what are you up to…?”



Kotori took another deep breath, gloved hands trembling as she turned the head of frying pan this way and that.

“Okay, okay, you can do this…” she whispered to herself. “Just… gotta break the window open… Base first, right…?” She looked between the pan and the thick plane of glass. “Wait, no…” She turned the pan horizontal again. “No, sides mean more concentrated force, better chance of breaking on the first try… but would it break all of it or just a line…? I probably won’t have time for multiple hits…—”

A calm, smarmy voice shattered her thoughts like the still-very-much-intact glass.

“Yyyeah, not to backseat B&E—”

“WAH!” Kotori jolted to her feet as if he’d screamed in her ear, gasping as the frying pan sailed out of her hands over the fire escape railing. “Nonononono!” She scrambled on top of the railing, fingers barely catching the pan’s handle, pulling it to her chest to clutch it tight like a baby. “Phew…”

But then she felt her balance shift forward and down.

“Oh god no—!”

Before she could finish yelling, a sharp yank on her hood pulled her back from the four stories of air between her and cold hard concrete.

She sighed deeply, slowly opening her eyes again. “Th-thank y—”

Her reflexive thanks died with a strangled squeak. Because she realized a. she was still suspended a foot or two above the fire escape platform, and b. the one holding her there was… a giant. Tall, broad, covered in spikes and sharp edges, the red cowl and the deep shadows of the alley only highlighting the furrowed, snaggletoothed frown on his green face.

And he wasn’t alone. Three more green figures, all shorter and skinnier than the one scruffing her like a kitten, but still leanly muscled and all carrying weapons (oh god, one of them had swords nope nope nope nope nope) and… shelled? Shelled bodies all wrapped in black bandages like warriors or prize-fighters. The blue-masked one with red face stripes gave her a sharp smirk; the purple one lifted an eyebrow (wait, why did he have eyebrows, let alone on his mask?!); and the orange one flashed her a wild-looking grin.

The blue one chuckled. Ah, he was the one who’d startled her just now. “Like I was saying, if you’re gonna break into a building, maaaybe cut down on the ASMR so you don’t give yourself away? Just a thought?”

Did he just wink at her?! After calling her out—wait, no, she fought down the annoyance and the panic, she did not have time for this!

“L-let me go!” Kotori brandished the frying pan, both hands death-gripping the handle and arms locked stick straight and shaking. Ever her shouting was a little dampened, clearly not used to raising her voice. “I-if you’re working for Swaggart, th-then… then…!”

… Well, then was a good question. Probably involving a few lucky whacks and then running away, hopefully into the building, but they didn’t need to know that.

Red, Blue, and Purple all exchanged confused looks, while Orange’s eyes… sparkled?

“Oooh, now that is a good-looking frying pan~!” he squeed as he plucked the frying pan from her grip like picking a daisy, spinning and flipping it to better admire it in the dim light. “Lightweight cast iron, ten inches, perfectly even seasoning…” He ran a finger along the side with a saucy look. “You’re way too beautiful to be breaking windows, baby. You should be making pan pizzas, garlic knots, and giant chocolate chip cookies. Mm~!”

Kotori’s eyes glazed over, her stomach letting out a little growl as the half-bowl of popcorn and adrenaline wore off.

“God that sounds good—wait no, g-give that back!” She flailed in the air, swiping and kicking for the pan as the red one held her still. “That’s my mom’s—I-I mean mine!”

Orange gasped like a church matron, one hand flying to his chest. “You’re using your mother’s good cast iron to break into buildings?!”

Kotori sputtered. “That’s… I… It’s not like I had time to look up ‘best tools for saving your mother from being kidnapped by a giant evil pig’ before running out the door!”

All five sets of eyes snapped open wide, and Kotori’s hands clamped over her masked mouth. Crap… They’d caught her, and now they knew who her family was. Now they could use her to hurt her mom or use her mom to hurt her and there was nothing she could do and all she’d done was make it worse—

The turtles swapped abashed glances at rapid speed. The furrow in Red’s brow deepened as he slowly lowered the poor girl, waiting a second to make sure she’d actually stand instead of dropping to her knees before releasing his grip.

“Here. And uh…” The giant poked his fingers together sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

“I…” Kotori stared for a long moment. He was… apologizing? “O-okay…?”

The blue one sighed. “Let’s… take this from the top.” That smirk returned as he took a single step forward, but… it was softer somehow, placing a hand on his chest like he was going to sweep into a bow any second. “Hi. Leo.” He pointed his thumb at the others in turn. “The one who just manhandled you is Raph…”

“What?!” Raph sputtered, the blush surging from under his mask to stain the rest of his head just as red. “Why—Leo, why you gotta phrase it like that?!” He spun back towards the innocent lady, massive hands clapping together to beg. “Raph is so sorry; he swears he only manhandles brothers, villains, and really stubborn animals who don’t realize they need rescuing!”

Leo just kept grinning as Kotori blinked back in shock.

“The one silently judging you is Donnie…”

“Ah, yes, pleasure to meet you, Miss McClane.” A faint smirk flashed on his face as his brothers bit down snickers at the joke, although it faded with an eye roll when Kotori failed to respond beyond a stunned blink and nod. Either too nervous or not cultured enough, clearly. (Or both.)

“Aaand the frying pan klepto is Mikey. Sorry for interrupting your rescue mission.”

Mikey huffed at the accusation… but shyly shrugged and looked away as he presented her the pan.

“Sorry…” he mumbled through pursed lips.

“I…” She dumbly reached out and gently took it back with a nod of a bow. “Th-thank you…? And… sorry for yelling.” Wait. Right. Introductions. Deep breath, quick. “Um… K-Kotori. My name’s Kotori. I… my mom is Megumi. She’s-she’s one of the chefs in there—”

Mikey gasped again, but this time his eyes sparkled. “Wait, I know you!”

Kotori’s eyes widened. “You-you do?”

“Yeah!” And before Kotori could blink, the turtle clung to her like an octopus, grinning at his brothers. “Megumi talks about her daughter all the time on her show, she calls her her little bird and tells all sorts of stories, it’s so cuuute~!”

Kotori’s free hand… slowly rose… and the second Mikey finished talking, she yanked her hood tight over her face. “People pay attention to that part…?”

Sure, yes, the homey cozy vibe was the centerpiece of the show, and family stories helped sell that, but like… there was the food! (And okay, fine, she’d admit her mom looking like a Japanese Giada de Laurentiis was a big draw too… But the food!) She was hoping people would gloss over the mentions of her, like the stories at the top of recipe websites so they show up more easily in search results. Oh god, what if people started recognizing her on the street and asked her for autographs and pictures or bugged her for social media information or quizzed her about her cooking skills—

“Well, yeah!” Mikey released the hug, still smiling sweetly. “Your mom’s a great cook, and it’s clear she loves you tons!”

Oh. Instead of making her curl up more (Donnie honestly expected to get some data on whether it was possible to actually die of embarrassment, alas), she relaxed ever so slightly, eyes shining behind her bangs as she pulled the hood up a little more.

“Th-thank you… I’m… really proud of her…” It was true. Even if the shooting schedule cut into their time together… her mom working so hard to bring some peace and comfort to the city, to raise money tonight to help those whose lives were turned upside-down? It was amazing to watch. Worth a little loneliness… She took a deep breath through her nose before the lump in her throat could grow too big. “That’s… why I need to save her…”

“Yyyeah, teeny tiny little question on that front, if you don’t mind…” Donnie drawled, before gesturing to all of her. “How?”

“Ah, w-well…” Kotori rubbed the back of her hooded neck with one hand. “I was… going to sneak in, find my mom and maybe the other chefs, sneak out…?”

The turtles just… stared at her for a good long second.

“You’re just going to… waltz in there and cross your fingers that the mutant chef with the ability to steal other mutants’ powers doesn’t notice you un-kidnapping his hostages…?” Donnie asked, skeptical brow quirking even higher as he lowered his goggles.

“Don, be nice,” Raph cut in. “… Although, uh… you wouldn’t happen to be a mutant with some kind of really cool, perfectly suited power like super strength or invisibility, would you?”

“Um…” Kotori shyly lifted the cuff of her jacket, revealing sandy human skin. “N-no, I’m… I’m still human…”

“And not so much as a flicker of mystic energy…” Donnie piped up, flicking his goggles back up to squint at her.

“No—wait, what?”

Kotori searched their faces frantically for some sign of sarcasm- well, more sarcasm from the purple one- but… Nope, dead serious.

“… Yeah, okay, sure…” She pinched the bridge of her nose, swiftly and firmly throwing that in the “unpack later” corner before her brain broke for the third or fourth time this year. “First people can turn into animals at random, then aliens are real, now magic… Why not…?”

Mikey gasped with delight. “Omigosh…” He pointed at her frying pan. “Maybe you can challenge him to a chef showdown for you mom’s freedom—”

“What, no!” Kotori shook her head furiously. “Absolutely not! Even if— …” Even if she had tried to make anything more complicated than instant ramen since The Knife Incident… Even if she tried to be brave instead of just desperate… Her hands clenched, anything to keep them from shaking. “H-he’s a trained chef with years of experience! I’m just… There’s-there’s no way I could win!”

Leo pursed his mouth as he draped an arm over Mikey’s head. “Hate to break it to you, birdy, but if you go in there, the only bacon getting fried is yours—”

“I know!” The shout that tore from her throat startled her almost as much as it startled them. “I-I know I’m not cut out for this…! But it’s my mother…! I-I don’t know what else to do…! I don’t have anyone else—…”

Her breath hitched before she could finish. She didn’t have anyone else she could ask for help. … She didn’t have anyone else period. The thought pierced her heart and lungs like a knife, sharp and stinging and shoving out every molecule of air. Shinobu gone, and Kotori too shy to make any other friends. Her father, alive but might as well be a ghost… She didn’t even have faith that she’d wake up or go to bed human anymore, that something monstrous and powerful wouldn’t descend on the city and raze or swallow every building, every person…

Her mother… If she lost her tonight, she’d have nothing…

She scrubbed at her eyes with a forearm, hot tears staining her mask. And here she was, having a meltdown in front of complete strangers who probably couldn’t care less, probably one more sign that she was too weak in their eyes. They were right, she knew they were… but…

“I-I don’t have time for this…!” she whispered, not daring to see that judgment for herself. She wound up to swing the frying pan, not caring how she aimed it—

“Hey.”

The rough voice was unbelievably soft, like tumble-smoothed gravel. The massive hand grabbed the pan’s body and halted her swing as gently as holding a doll. Only now did she dare look up at him and…

“It’s okay. We get it.”

More tears poured down as Kotori stared right back into those eyes. God, the sorrow on his face was so heavy. Her gaze darted around to the others… Not a hint of a smile remained on Leo’s face, eyes just as dark. Donnie looked away from the whole scene, arms crossed over his chest, fingers clutching his arms tightly. Mikey sniffed, tears overflowing the dam of his mask even as he tried to give her a kind smile. What the hell had they been through?

“… I know I don’t… I-I can’t ask…”

“You don’t have to.” Leo strolled up, a soft smirk gracing his face as he held out a hand. “Let’s go save your mom.”

Oh. Was… was it really that easy? Kotori’s eyes shone, hand gingerly rising to take that lifeline—

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold on!” Raph air-pushed the two apart before they could shake hands, throwing a massive arm over his brother’s shoulders to pull him away. “Leo,” he stage-whispered, “did we not just establish that the cute, sweet, completely out of her depth girl is underqualified for taking on a hostile mutant…? And you wanna bring her along anyway…?!”

Kotori stared flatly, deciding it wasn’t worth it to point out that she could still hear him.

“And what, dear brother,” Leo asked, not even bothering to whisper, “do you think we should do with the cute girl?”

Raph snorted, hoping the mask hid most of his blush.

“Simple! Raph thinks we should get her out of here, sit her down at the nearest coffee shop,” complete with the chibi Raph in his head giving chibi Kotori a cup of cocoa and a few soft pats on the head before rushing back to save the day like a boss, “and then bring her mom to her once we’re done kicking Meat Sweats’ butt!”

“Yyyeah, one: not enough time,” Leo said, holding up a big green finger. “And two…” He turned to the girl with a dry, flat look on his face. “Show of hands, who genuinely believes this girl, who biked here from… where’d you come from?”

“Um… e-east Astoria?” … Wait, how did he know she biked here—

Leo snickered. “Okay, damn. So who thinks the girl who biked here from Queens, armed with nothing but a frying pan, and beat us here, is going to sit still while her mom’s still in danger?”

The brothers exchanged glances… and then Raph and Mikey gave “yeah, fair” nods. Donnie crouched down and touched the fire escape platform.

“For the record, that is negative one hand-raises on your behalf, madame,” he quipped.

Leo turned back to Kotori with a smirk and a “see?” wave of his hand.

“Y-yeah…” She nodded, burning red under her mask. “Yeah, that’s fair…”

Leo shrugged. “This way, we keep an eye on her and she gets to help. Win-win. Besides…” He cupped his chin. “Meat Sweats is probably expecting us… but he’s definitely not going to be expecting her.”

Raph… sighed. Leo had good points. (And he had to admit, it was a small relief that his little brother was thinking this through, taking it seriously). He leveled his most serious face at the girl.

“You stay next to us, you listen to our instructions to the letter, and absolutely no trying to save the day all by yourself. Got it?”

Kotori gulped. “Y-yes, sir…?”

Raph blinked, not sure whether to chuckle or apologize for being too harsh. At least she was taking this seriously too.

Leo hummed, looking Kotori up and down. “You know… the bike courier get-up gives me an idea… How good’s your acting, Ko?”

She gulped. Ko? Acting?

“… Oh god…”