Kame to Usagi no Monogatari— The Tale of the Turtle and the Rabbit

by threedaymoon

Summary:

Yūichi wants to travel to New York, New York, USA, because of something he saw on the news in the aftermath of the Kraang invasion.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Summary:

Yūichi, lone survivor of the Kraang invasion, decides enough is enough.

Notes:

Contains depictions of suicide, violence, death, and slight description of gore.

Reader discretion is advised.

 

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters. All characters are copyright of their respective owners.
Also, go read Usagi Yojimbo. It's good, I swear.

He had seen it on the news, on the humans' internet, everywhere. He thought he and Oba-san were safe. But when the Kraang arrived in Neo Edo some fifteen years ago, no one was prepared. They swiftly took over, Kogane's Keisatsu posing no resistance. They began destroying the surrounding area, converting it into some kind of fleshy jungle, and Oba-san's farm was next. He had tried to stop them, he had— but he ended up cradling Oba-san's body as the life drained from her.

He had lost everything, everyone— Gen died first, paralyzed by fear; Chizu had given her life to protect Kitsune; but it didn't matter. The Kraang were merciless, relentless, and unstoppable. Kitsune didn't last long after Chizu died. He had left, after that— Neo Edo held nothing for him. He stayed with Oba-san, but the Kraang were there within a month. Oba-san had tried to get him to run, to hide— but he tried to fight. He had distracted her, and the Kraang obliterated her. Then, he had run.

He ran, and planned his revenge.

This was why he climbed the sacred mountain, Yanagi-no-Eda by his side, the sword of his ancestor, Miyamoto Usagi. He sought Karasu-Tengu, his sensei, and knew she would be here. She, too, had tried to stop the Kraang, and ended up badly hurt. She needed time to heal— time the mountain would give her.

Finally, he pulled himself over the lip of the cliff, emerging into the place he had trained those first six months with her. Indeed, she was here, laying in the middle of the circle of stones. Blood soaked the ground around her, oozing from a bloody hole in her chest, and she breathed shallowly.

“Sensei,” he said, kneeling before her and bowing.

One of her eyes cracked open, staring weakly at him. “Miyamoto Yūichi. What—” she coughed— “are you doing here?”

“I have come to make a request, Sensei,” he said, all trace of his normal, cheerful self gone. Instead, there was only grief, pain, anger, all under a layer of numbness. “I need you to teach me everything you know. I need to kill the Kraang.”

She wheezed a laugh. “And what of your friends? Your aunt? What will they do, while you train?”

He was silent.

“Ah.” She coughed again, spattering blood on the ground. “What makes you think you can kill one?”

He met her gaze. “They can be killed. I know they can. The Ki-Stone harms them, at least partially, and I can use its power. I just need your guidance.”

“There is nothing left for me to teach you, Miyamoto. I... I am dying.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I have failed time and time again in my sacred duty as a guardian of the land. There is but one way Amaterasu-Ōmikami-sama may yet forgive my transgressions.” With a grimace, she wrenched herself to her knees, groaning and coughing. Her gaze met his, and he saw a spark of determination. “Miyamoto Yūichi, direct descendant of Miyamoto Usagi, head of the Miyamoto Clan. Will you be my second?”

Her second.

He bowed. “I would be honored, Sensei.” He got to his feet and approached her, thrusting Yanagi-no-Eda through his obi. He stood at her left, facing her.

“It is I who am honored, Miyamoto Yūichi.” A ball of flame appeared in her clawed hand, and extended into a tantō. “Your clan is old and powerful, and you should be proud to carry that name. You should be proud to be the last of your clan, Miyamoto.” She held it backhanded, then thrust it into her stomach with a cry of pain, extending as she drew it across, hot, fresh blood pouring from the gash, down her legs, soaking into the packed dirt. She withdrew it, then plunged it in again, below her navel, then wrenched it up to beneath her sternum. Yūichi tried not to look at the pile of flesh that spilled from her open abdomen.

She bowed her head, beak frozen in a grimace of pain. “Do it,” she grunted.

Yūichi drew Yanagi-no-Eda, placing the edge against the back of her neck.

The crow woman had been an incredible sensei, teaching him not only the way of the blade, but the way of humility, the way of respect, the way of honor. The time he spent training with her was some of the time he treasured most in his life.

He tried to think of something to say, something to tell her how much her tutelage and her words meant to him.

He gripped Yanagi-no-Eda tightly, but the words yet escaped him. “...Farewell, Sensei.” He lifted it up, then sliced down, through her neck. Her head hit the ground with a dull thud and the all-too-familiar splatter of blood. The hollow, headless body bowed forward, slumping over its insides in a final act of supplication to Amaterasu-Ōmikami. Grimacing, he flicked her blood from his blade before sheathing it.

He should be crying. He should feel grief. He should feel loss. He should feel angry. He should feel something.

He felt nothing as he buried her head, as was tradition. He felt nothing as he cremated her body. He felt nothing as he set her ashes in the stone base, carved from the mountain itself. He felt nothing as he set the column in place, carved with her name. He felt nothing as he burned incense for her, murmured a prayer for her soul.

His friends, his aunt, and now his sensei. Who else must the Kraang kill before they are stopped? He would trade his life for theirs, any of theirs, if it would mean the Kraang were defeated.

He felt nothing when he stood, long after. Descending the mountain was easy, especially with his ancient budō techniques. Finding Neo Edo was easier. He slipped through the forest, hiding behind a tree as he tried to find a way in that wouldn’t alert the Kraang hounds. A soft rumble met his ears, and a familiar pompadour met his eyes, springing from the ground like a bamboo shoot in Udzuki.

“Chikabuma,” he growled, curling his fingers around Yanagi-no-Eda, already loosed in its sheath. “Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you right now.”

“Easy, man!” he drawled. “I'm here to help.”

He eased Yanagi-no-Eda in its sheath, edging it out further. “You. Sold. Us. Out.”

Chikabuma threw his hands up in a placating gesture. “Peace! Remember when Kagehito was in town? I'm not really working for the Kraang, man!”

Yūichi bent down to his level, stared through his sunglasses into his beady eyes. “Prove it,” he spat.

Chikabuma swallowed nervously, despite his bravado. “You're here to kill them, right? I'll take you to the Ki-Stone, man. Right there, no tricks! Promise.” He held up a hand, as if swearing an oath.

“Why?”

His bravado dropped, his expression growing serious. “Man, the Kraang killed my crew. I don't like that.” He sniffed and swallowed. “No one messes with my crew and gets away with it.”

Yūichi thought for a moment. Chikabuma was nothing if not loyal to his crew. Loyal to the end , he thought grimly. He sighed. “Fine. You betray me, I'll kill you.”

He sighed, visibly relaxing. “That's fair, man. This way.” He beckoned him into the hole he popped from.

Yūichi had to walk doubled to fit in the tunnel, but he followed. They emerged into a dimly lit space, with several masked and armored figures crowded around a table.

One looked up at him, her green eyes flashing in the half-light. “Yūichi.”

His gaze hardened. “Fuwa.”

Those green eyes remained calmly fixed on his. “I thank you for telling me of Chizu's death. I know we, as ninja, live to die, but... She really was like a daughter to me.” She bowed. “I am sorry I did not believe you.”

“No need. It was hard to believe for me, too.” It replayed before his eyes.

 

“I'll go,” Kitsune said, voice fraught with pain. “That motherfucker took my Kiyoko. I won’t let our Hana share her fate. ”

Chizu stiffened, frowning sternly at her wife. “Kicchan, no. You can't. I should go. I'm the Kashira, the dōjō is my responsibility.”

Kitsune shook her head firmly. “They'll expect you, Chi-chan. I know these streets well.” She met Chizu's golden eyes. “I can't— I can't lose you too.” Her voice wavered.

Chizu sighed, the fight leaving her body. She took Kitsune's hands, searching her eyes. “Fine. Go. But you come back to me, my love.”

Kitsune pecked her on the lips. “I will, darling. Jā, ne.”

Of course, Chizu followed her. Yūichi had gone after her, but couldn't get her to follow him. A Kraang soldier had spotted Kitsune, and Chizu had shoved her out of the way. After the beam had cleared, there wasn't enough left of her to bury— just her hand, her wedding ring gleaming in the light.

Kitsune was inconsolable— Yūichi had to physically drag her back to the safe house, kicking and screaming. He had taken the time to grab Chizu's hand, for her, but she didn't come out of her room that night— or ever again. Yūichi was going to check on her, but of all people, Hana got to her first.

She understood too well. When she ran away, when she disappeared. She understood why her mom wasn't waking up, why her mom had lost her hand, where she had gone. She understood, but she couldn't process it. Yūichi had found her body, broken and lifeless, trapped beneath rubble, near the dōjō. That was the last straw for him— the young woman was like a little sister to him. His last stop was to tell Fuwa what had happened.

 

“Mogura,” he said flatly, “you told me you were taking me to the Ki-Stone.”

“This is the fastest route, man. Come on.” He crossed the room, and Yūichi followed. Another tunnel put him just outside Ki-Stone Temple, covered with Kraang... vines? veins? as it was. “This is as far as I go, man. Fuwa says, she and her ninja'll make a distraction for you. Wait for it...” He placed a small hand on Yūichi's shoulder. “Aniki.” Then he was gone.

Yūichi felt emotions stir in his chest. Not once had Chikabuma referred to anyone as “aniki,” especially not one of his crew members. He was their aniki, the top mole in town. That he called Yūichi aniki was… unexpected.

As he waited, he recalled one of the first visions he had of Miyamoto Usagi, some fifteen years ago, before Kagehito, before the Makkine, before the Kraang. He felt a kinship to his ancestor he couldn't explain.

Perhaps it was their strikingly similar appearance. Perhaps it was the fact that, despite facing impossible odds, he still fought. Perhaps it was the blade at his side, surviving for four hundred and fifty-odd years.

Something shot into the sky and exploded into blue sparks— three circles, one above the other two. The Mifune mon, now the Miyamoto mon, the sign of his clan. The Kraang bastard scuttled out of the Temple, soft pink flesh propelled by thick tentacles, grunting and growling, staring up at the sparks, hanging in the air far longer than ordinary fireworks should. It scuttled back in. A towering, lithe armored figure burst out, then leapt for the sparks.

This was it. He slipped into the Temple, making a beeline for the Ki-Stone, quickly, quietly, avoiding the accursed veins criss-crossing the ground. There she was, glowing pale violet, pulsing gently. A few resilient veins had started to make progress up her smooth, faceted sides— a cruel echo of the cords that once supplied near limitless energy to all of Neo Edo.

“O Ki-Stone,” he said, kneeling and bowing deeply before her. “I am Miyamoto Yūichi, head of the Miyamoto Clan. I humbly ask that you grant me your power. Together, I believe we may stomp out this Kraang menace. I care not for my own safety. I have nothing left to lose, and death is lighter than a feather beside the mountain of the duty I carry. If you let me, I will take all you can give. Neo Edo deserves freedom, my lady. I believe I can deliver it.”

It hummed, as if thinking. A beam of light illumined his yo-yo, and he understood. He tossed it to her, wrapping the string around Yanagi-no-Eda. Energy pulsed down the string, so much energy, more than any time before. The blade glowed indigo-blue, and the yo-yo dissolved. The Stone itself no longer glowed, but still levitated.

Just from holding the ancient blade, Yūichi felt energized, well-rested, as if he could take on a hundred soldiers, and win— without budō this time. Energy sparked along the length of the metal, singeing the fur on his hands, but he didn’t care. He was strong.

“You!” the Kraang growled.

Yūichi turned slowly, staring into its vile eyes. “Kisama.” He poured every ounce of vitriol he had left into the word. The numbness he had felt for the past month, since Oba-san had died, was finally gone. In its place was a raging flame of hate, burning higher with each passing second.

“What have you done! ” it snarled, tentacles lashing at nothing.

His lips curled into an angry sneer. “What you could not, you bastard who kills my friends. I have absorbed her power. Now, she is useless to you, and you will die.” Without another word, he readied Yanagi-no-Eda, clearing his mind in an instant, the foundation of the ancient budō he was trained in.

“We shall see,” it hissed.

There was a pause, a breeze blowing through the ruined temple. A strange collection of objects was carried on it— a black feather, a leaf, an intact sakura blossom, a maple leaf, a scrap of dark cloth, and a scrap of purple. With each, the faces of friends and family appeared in his mind, their faces when they died.

Karasu-Tengu's mask of pain. Oba-san's loving smile. Hana's small body, broken and lifeless, just outside the dōjō, a look of fear on her young face. Kitsune's grief-stricken features, hand gone, intertwined with her wife's, blood soaking her kimono. Chizu’s worry-fraught eyes, fixed on Kitsune. Gen's frozen, horrified stare. With each, the flame burned hotter and higher, threatening to consume him.

He let it.

The Kraang twitched, and Yūichi struck like lightning, crossing the space at unfathomable speed. Yanagi-no-Eda parted its armored construct's arm from its body, but the other crashed into his ribcage, breaking at least four.

He felt blood fill his lungs, but he didn't let himself feel pain. It skittered on the edge of his perception, angry, spiky red-and-black lightning.

He stood, coughed up blood, and struck again. The other arm and the legs followed. The head snapped at him, latching into his neck.

It wasn’t the sensation of blade parting Kraang flesh, so he didn't care.

He felt his lifeblood pouring from his neck, felt the flesh tear. With his last ounce of strength, he plunged Yanagi-no-Eda into the bastard Kraang, right between its yellow eyes.

He coughed an incantation, a prayer to Susanoo-no-Mikoto, a prayer for vengeance. Kanji flared to life in the air, forming a ring around Yanagi-no-Eda, kanji of anger, vengeance, killing, power, lightning, justice, and death.

Together, the kanji spelled the end for the Kraang.

Out of nowhere, called by the incantation, lightning struck Yanagi-no-Eda, and the Kraang simply exploded, pink goop covering every surface in sight.

Yūichi's vision blurred— he had lost far too much blood, used far too much energy in that final assault, and Susanoo-no-Mikoto had taken all he had offered and more. He fell, hand still gripping Yanagi-no-Eda. He couldn't move.

At least I killed it, he thought. He was so tired.

He could rest now. He was done.

A tear slid from one brown eye. He could rest.

Oba-san... I did it. His eyes slid closed.

 

He sat up with a gasp, feeling his body. It was whole again.

“Rest, Yūichi,” a deep, smooth voice said. A familiar voice.

“Ojī-san?” He turned, and Miyamoto Usagi stood before him, a faint smile on his usually-stern features. His hands were tucked into his blue kimono, and his scar stood out sharply against his forehead. Yanagi-no-Eda rested at his side.

His pink eyes sparkled with mirth. “Yes, my son. You have done well. I have watched your battles, seen your loss.” He nodded. “I am proud of you.”

Yūichi blinked tears from his eyes. “Ojī-san... thank you.”

A familiar chuckle made them both turn. “It's us that should be thanking you, Yūichi.” His aunt stood, smiling, leaning on her... nothing! Her cane was gone, her leg restored, her ear too. She stood tall, as tall as he, Edgewing by her side.

“Oba-san!” he exclaimed. “You're... young!”

She laughed aloud. “I am! I am also dead. So are we all.” She nodded to a figure, wearing a purple kimono, behind Usagi, and a figure behind him, and so forth.

He frowned. “I... died. Right. Are my friends here?”

Their eyes dropped.

“No, my son. This is our family's place.” Usagi gestured to the vast plain around them. “This is Adachi Plain. So chosen because this is where much changed for me, and where I began my journey. All my descendants are here. I was chosen by Amaterasu-Ōmikami-sama herself to have my own space. Here, we will rest, until such time She decides our souls are to be reborn.” Usagi spoke softly, gently. “Mariko-san, if you would.”

Yūichi's aunt nodded. “Come, Yūichi. I will show you what you are missing.”

“Your name is Mariko? How did I not know that?” Yūichi asked, standing.

“I never told you. It never came up. Come, come! Ojī-san asked me to show you.” She walked— quickly, without a limp— to a small pool. Within swam a few creatures, and Yūichi saw his face in it, exactly as it appeared on his twentieth birthday. It felt weird to see himself with only one scar. He looked too young.

As he thought about it, he aged, his visage now resembling him as he looked just before the Kraang attack— a wise, if young, leader of soldiers, respected by ninja and samurai alike, a peacemaker between them where Kogane had failed.

“What?”

“Look at them.”

Yūichi looked closer, and the creatures jumped into focus. Four turtles swam about within. One looked back at him— one with two red marks on the side of his head. A spark jumped between them.

“Oh,” Yūichi whispered.

A hand landed on his shoulder. “The Kraang oni meddled much in the affairs of our world, and even Amaterasu-Ōmikami-sama did not foresee just how much they would disrupt the Earthly Realm. This was not meant to be, for this you , my son. But for another, he will be among your closest companions.”

Yūichi pet the turtle, and it nudged his hand gently. That's what he was missing.

Love.

 

 

Prologue Glossary

 

Oba [oh-BAH]— 叔母. Aunt.

-san [sahn]— Honorific ending, used for those above or equal to your own rank. Equivalent to “miss” or “mister.”

Keisatsu [KAY-sah-tsu]— 警察. Police.

Yanagi-no-Eda [YAH-NAH-GEE noh EH-dah]— 柳之枝. Willow Branch. The name of Miyamoto Usagi’s katana.

Karasu-Tengu [TEN-goo]— 烏天狗, lit. “Crow Heavenly Dog,” a crow-headed tengu, or red-faced, long-nosed goblin. A supernaturally skilled martial artist, and a guardian of nature.

Sensei— 先生. Instructor, teacher, master.

Amaterasu-Ōmikami [ah-mah-te-RAH-su OH-mi-kah-mi]— 天照大神, lit. “Heavenly Illumination Great Deity.” Another, honorific name for Amaterasu, the queen of the Japanese pantheon and goddess of the sun and war. By extension, also the goddess of life.

-sama [sah-mah]— 様. Honorific ending, used for those far above one’s station.

Second— In this context, a partner who aids in the committing of seppuku (切腹, lit. “Cut Belly”), or ritual suicide. Seppuku is usually committed to preserve honor, and was often commanded of a high-ranking person who had failed in a big way.

Obi [OH-bee]— 帯. The sash worn with a kimono.

Tantō [TAHN-toh]— 短刀, lit. “short sword.” Dagger used by samurai.

Budō [BOO-doh]— 士道, lit. “the Path of the Warrior.” In this context, refers to preternatural skills of swordsmanship— the flash step, powerful nukitsuke (抜き付け, lit. “Pull Out Attach,” the act of unsheathing a katana and striking in the same motion), heightened battle awareness, that kind of thing.

Udzuki— 卯月, lit. “Hare Moon.” The ancient Japanese name for April, before 四月 (Shigatsu), lit. “Four Moon,” or “Fourmonth.”

Ninja [NEEN-jah]— 忍者, lit “stealthy person.” Refers to spies, assassins, that kind of thing. Historically, they were plainclothes agents, and used farming tools as their main weapons. In the context of Usagi Yojimbo, however, they operate in clans and are clad in the stereotypical dark outfits, taken from the stagehands in kabuki (歌舞伎, lit. “Song Dance Skill”) theater.

Kashira [KAH-shee-rah]— An alternate reading of 頭 [AH-tah-mah], lit. “head.” In this context, means “chief.”

Dōjō [DOH-joe]— 道場, lit. “Wayplace.” A space used for martial arts training, often a large, open room, possibly filled with training equipment.

Jā, ne— じゃあ、ね. “Bye.”

Mogura [moh-GOO-rah]— 土竜, lit. “earth dragon.” Mole (animal), but can be used as mole (spy) as well.

Aniki [AH-nee-kee]— 兄貴, lit. “honored older brother.” Used by ヤクザ (yakuza, Japanese street gangs) to refer to members higher up the ladder than them. This is how Chikabuma uses it.

Kisama [kee-sah-mah]— 貴様, lit. “honored individual.” Used derogatorily, as “you (derogatory, insulting).”

Susanoo-no-Mikoto [soo-SAH-noh-oh noh MEE-koh-toh]— 須佐之男命, lit. “Fated Male Helper by All Means” or similar. Amaterasu-Ōmikami’s brother, storm god, slayer of Orochi, the dread eight-headed serpent, first wielder of Ame-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi.

Kanji [KAHN-jee]— 漢字, lit. “Writing from Kan (China).” The fancier Japanese “alphabet,” comprised of radicals, each of which have meanings that, when combined, form words.

Ojī [oh-JEE]— 祖父, lit. “Ancestor Father.” Grandfather.

Oni [OH-nee]— 鬼, “ogre, demon.”

Notes:

Thanks for reading!

This marks my writing debut upon this website, and, in fact, my first time publicly publishing any of my writing! I'd like to thank my friend for introducing me to TMNT, my sister for making me aware of how the site works, my other sister for helping me with translation in some parts yet to come, and one of my best friends in the world for helping me tag this thing.
If you're reading this the day it was published, Blessed Ostara!

Chapter 2: Chapter 1

Summary:

The present Yūichi longs for more.
Meanwhile, Chizu does her best to deal with her feelings for Kitsune.

Notes:

This won't be as dark as the prologue, I promise!

As usual, I don't own these characters, go read Usagi Yojimbo, yada yada.

(You know. Something I really hate is how, if you have a prologue and no titles for your chapters, Ao3 makes you number Chapter 1 as Chapter 2, because Chapter 1 is your prologue, even though Chapter 1 is Chapter 1. Can we have a prologue option, pretty please with a さくらんぼ [sakuranbo, cherry] on top?)

Yūichi sighed as he read the headline for today.

KRAANG INVASION OF NEW YORK, USA, THWARTED .

He should have been there to help! The Kraang had to have been nothing compared to the Makkine he had already defeated, and he was sure even Kagehito could have trounced one. He surely could— Karasu-Tengu had trained him, after all.

“Yūichi!” Oba-san called. “Come here!”

“Hai, Oba-san! Be right there!” He folded the news-fan and set it down, then hurried to Oba-san, making sure to take up Yanagi-no-Eda. It wouldn't do to leave his ancestor's sword behind, especially after he had been acknowledged by Miyamoto Usagi himself.

“Come on, Spot!” he called.

Spot, who had been napping, eep ed sleepily, but followed.

He knew Gen's house well, having lived there for a little over two years. Oba-san was visiting him because she “wanted to see how he's doing.” This was, of course, true— she loved him. However, he couldn't shake the feeling there was more to it.

He popped his head into the kitchen. “Oba-san, you called?”

She smiled warmly at him, as she always did, leaning on her cane, the wrinkles on her face deepening. Her orange kimono was stained with dirt and grass, like it usually was, and her mechanical leg was spotless. Her wooden ear was a little stiffer than her flesh-and-blood ear in her chonmage, giving her a slightly lopsided appearance. “Ah, there you are. Yūichi, dear, help me set the table.” She gestured to the low table. Spot stared mournfully at her until she tossed him a piece of whatever it was she was cooking.

“Oh. Okay, Oba-san.” He took out two bowls and filled them with rice, setting them and two pairs of hashi on the table. She set a pot of fragrant stew down in the middle, ladling out portions over the rice.

“Itadakimasu,” they murmured, and began eating.

“So, Oba-san, you know how the Kraang tried to invade New York?” he began, innocently.

“No, you're not going,” she said, not even looking up. Maybe he was a little too innocent.

“But Oba-san, I—”

She set her bowl on the table forcefully, producing a sharp clack. “I said no, Yūichi. It's most likely still dangerous. Besides, who knows what other things are there?” She shook her head firmly, her ear waving back and forth. “No. And that's final.”

Yūichi sighed. “Fine, Oba-san.” He ate, a little sullenly, then excused himself and returned to his room. Why wouldn't Oba-san let him go? He could handle himself. He was eighteen now, nearly nineteen— plenty old enough to travel that far on his own.

Travel on his own...

Maybe...

Maybe she didn't have to know.

He felt terrible for it, but he had a feeling about New York. There was that photo, of a young woman with a shaved head, giving the Kraang the middle finger, that he had saved. It said it was taken in New York, and he thought that blur in the corner might be a Yōkai. Why wouldn't she just listen?

That night, he got up, silently. Quickly, he wrote a note— that should hold Oba-san off for a day or two, anyway. He left it on the kitchen table, where she would see it, then ghosted from the house.

He made his way through the crowded streets, a straw hat pulled down over his face, avoiding eye contact. He was mildly famous for the Makkine incident a couple years back, despite the sanitized version Kogane had published in books and such. The real war had been bloody, and many had lost their lives. But still, he and his friends had prevailed.

He shook the memories from his head, beginning the climb to the Ki-Stone Temple. There were seventy-seven steps, but he took them two at a time, strong legs making it easy, breaking for a moment in the courtyard outside before slipping in. Tetsujin never slept, but he was fond of Yūichi, and would probably let him go.

Speaking of, the ghostly green bear floated near, trying his best to look menacing. “Who goes there!” Unfortunately for him, the cup of boba tea in his hand made sure he looked more like someone’s disgruntled father, woken in the middle of the night by his child’s sneaking about.

Yūichi held out his hand, slowly pushing his hat back. “Just me, Tetsujin.”

“Ah, Miyamoto,” he said, face relaxing into a smile. “It's been a while. How can I help you?” He slurped at his boba.

“I—” he swallowed a sudden bout of nerves. “I need to go to New York.”

The bear spat out his drink, the spray of tea and balls of tapioca plastering a nearby wall. “New York?! Do you realize—”

“I know it's probably dangerous! I just... look.” He pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket— the picture of the young woman— and pointed to a weird blur in the corner. “Do you see that?”

He peered closer. “Oh, yes. She's being quite rude.”

“What?” He turned the picture around. “Oh. Not the woman, the blur! Look.” He tapped the thing. “Don't you think that's a Yōkai? Like, an American one?”

He rubbed his chin. “Hmm... It could be. But anyway, New York is—”

“Dangerous?”

Tetsujin frowned. “Well, I was going to say 'very far away', but yeah, it's dangerous too.” He chuckled. “But I'll send you there, if you promise me something.”

“What is it?”

“You say hello to an old... friend of mine. Goes by Big Mama.” He smiled vacantly. “I think she's still in New York. She was two years ago, anyway.”

Yūichi sighed, unfortunately reminded of Tetsujin's relationship with the previous Neko Ninja Clan's Kashira, Lady Fuwa. “I promise.”

“Very well. Ki-Stone, if you would?” The large, indigo-blue crystal, hovering in the middle of the chamber, pulsed, then glowed. A beam shot out, piercing a hole in the fabric of reality, like the portal the Makkine had used, but on a much smaller scale. It swirled pink and purple, then a hazy image of a busy city appeared, wavering as if viewed on a hot summer day.

“Take this.” Tetsujin held out a small packet. “Don’t lose it.”

Yūichi took it. “What is it?”

“Your way back. Instructions are included. Now go.” He shooed him toward the portal.

Yūichi bowed. “Thank you, Tetsujin. I won't forget this.” He leapt through the portal, and his vision was reduced to white.

 

Chizu gulped at her tea, uncaring that it nearly scalded her throat. She set her cup down on the table, her steely ninja nerve fleeing her, hand trembling uncontrollably.

“Relax, Chizu. What's got you so nervous?” Kitsune grinned easily, as she always does. Her green eyes sparkled with mirth.

Chizu swallowed, face flushed with heat, heart thudding in her chest. “I. Um.” How could she tell her? Perhaps it was best to rip this bandage off quickly. “I lo—”

“I love these things!” Kitsune exclaimed suddenly, biting into a yakitori skewer.

Chizu blinked. “I— I do too,” she said, twisting her hands together. She reached across and grabbed Kitsune's hands, forcing her to look at her. Her eyes met hers, and a thrill shot down her spine. “Kitsune, I need to tell you something... important.”

She heard Kitsune's breath catch. “W— what?”

“Kitsune. I love—”

“Chizu, Kitsune!” Oba-san called, waving her cane. “Hey!”

Chizu’s ear twitched, and she glared at her, pupils narrowed to slits. “Excuse me, Miyamoto-san. I was just about to— That is, I— Ugh! What is it?” she grumbled.

“Yūichi's gone,” she panted, leaning heavily on her cane. “Here.” She held out a folded piece of paper.

Chizu reluctantly let go of Kitsune's hands and took it, unfolding it. Kitsune leaned over, resting her head on Chizu's shoulder, which made it rather hard to focus on the paper at hand:

 

Oba-san—

I've gone to train with Karasu-Tengu some more. I won't be back for a while.

I'm not sure how long— time works differently on the sacred mountain.

Don't worry.

—Yūichi

 

“Looks like it's fine to me,” Chizu said, roughly holding the paper out. “What's the issue?” Kitsune lifted her head from her shoulder, and Chizu repressed a sigh.

“Last night, he was talking about New York. I told him he couldn't go, and now he disappears.” She took the note back. “I think he went anyway. I'd like your help getting him back.” She bowed. “Please.”

Chizu sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. I'll help you.”

“I'll help, too,” Kitsune chimed in. She grinned mischievously. “I've always wanted to travel the world.”

“Thank you both,” Oba-san said, bowing deeply. “By the way, have either of you seen Gen? I want his help, too.”

“No, I haven't,” Chizu said, a little testily. “Did you check the hospital.” It wasn't a question.

“Ah. No, I'll go do that now.” She bowed one more time. “Sorry to interrupt... whatever you were doing.”

“It's fine,” Chizu lied through gritted teeth. “Go. Please.”

Oba-san scurried off, metal leg clanking on the pavement, surprisingly agile for an old, one-legged rabbit. “Finally,” Chizu sighed. She turned back to Kitsune, leaning her elbow casually on the table, her cheek pressed against her fist, squishing her face most adorably.

“You said you had something important to tell me?” she asked. Her gorgeous green eyes glimmered like the emeralds she so often “found” in her purse. Chizu felt her mouth go dry.

“Um. Yeah, I did.” She took her hands again. She took a deep breath. “Kitsune, I—”

There was a loud, motorized sound from across the street, making them both jump. A construction-botto was drilling something or other.

“Oh, for FUCK'S SAKE,” Chizu yelled, running her hands through her hair. “Godsdammit. I'm sorry, Kitsune. This was supposed to be peaceful, but—”

“It's okay, Chizu.” She smiled apologetically. “Maybe later?”

Chizu nodded vigorously. “Definitely later.”

“Later it is.” Her eyes gleamed oddly. “Hey, I've got to go get ready.” She bit her lip shyly. “...Meet you by the stairs in an hour?”

“Uh. Yes. Sure.” Chizu cleared her throat. “Let's. Do that.”

“Great! See you, shinyū !” She waggled her fingers as she skipped off.

“ Shinyū ,” Chizu murmured, rubbing the bridge of her nose. A headache was forming, right behind the white diamond-shaped patch of fur on her forehead. “If only she knew.” Sighing, she made her way to the dōjō, to get ready herself.

 

 

Chapter 1 Glossary

 

Hai [HAH-ee]— Yes.

Kimono [KEE-moh-noh]— 着物, lit. “wear-thing.” Robe. General purpose wear for most of Japan’s history.

Chonmage [CHONE-mah-geh]— 丁髷, lit. “street topknot.” The topknot hairstyle worn by samurai. “Man buns” wish they were this cool.

Hashi [HAH-shee]— 箸. Chopsticks.

Itadakimasu [ee-tah-dah-kee-mahs]— 頂きます, lit. “I receive.” Said before eating as a blessing.

Yōkai [YOH-kah-ee]— 妖怪, lit. “ghost, monster, apparition, spirit, goblin.” Used to refer to mystical beings in Japanese folklore.

Neko [NEH-koh]— 猫. Cat.

Shinyū [SHEEN-yuu]— 心友, lit. “heart friend.” Used by Kitsune to express affection for Chizu.

Notes:

Thanks for reading!

I told you it won't be as dark!
It always bothers me when people spell Yūichi's name "Yuichi," because that's wrong. It should be Yūichi, or Yuuichi if you can't get the long u for whatever reason. While the official kanji spelling was never released, as far as I know, I believe it should be 友一 (Yūichi, of course), lit. "Friendly one," and I'm not just saying that because my given name could be translated as such! He's generally a friendly guy. Even in the Japanese dub, they say "Yūichi," and I know it's not technically a Japanese IP, but Come On.
While I'm on the subject, his last name should be Miyamoto, the same as Usagi's, because Miyamoto is Usagi's last name, not his given, and he's a direct descendant. That's just how last names work under the patriarchy, so until we get that sorted, we're stuck with Miyamoto.

One day Chizu will be able to express her love for Kitsune... But it is not this day.

Chapter 3: Chapter 2

Summary:

"Four young adult, non-human, sneaky reptiles stake out the mall, the last surviving bastion of children's freedom, to protect it from the evil of the Footprint Gang"の事。*

*TL Note: no koto, "or something." This is widely known as "peak humor" among such intellectuals as "my sister" and "me."

Notes:

Enter the Turtles.

Spoilers for the whole Rise of the TMNT show and movie from here out! You can watch most of the show on the Nickelodeon website for free with an ISP account, the first season on Netflix for... whatever the monthly Netflix subscription price is nowadays, the whole show on Paramount+ for the Amazon Prime Video and P+ subscription fee, or the whole show online for free if you're willing to hoist the colors, matey. I'm sure you could find a box set somewhere, maybe. If you're lucky.
Movie's a Netflix exclusive, if we're talking payed services, yar har.

Usual disclaimer, these characters ain't mine, yada yada yada, all credits to their creators, etc. etc.

Go read Usagi Yojimbo.

The mall looked quiet from the outside. It was twilight, so there wasn't much activity, but it was a mall, so a steady stream of people filed in and out. Unbeknownst to them, four figures watched from a rooftop across the street, mostly silhouetted against the light, the only thing that could be seen were their eyes, appearing blank white. A figure in the crowd, wearing a yellow-green hoodie, turned to wink at them from behind her glasses, a grin splitting her dark features. They gave thumbs-ups, and she turned back, entering the mall.

There had been rumors that two mutants— Yōkai? Whatever— they were tracking were planning to rob the place. What they were after wasn't known, but their timeframe was.

Which was... Now.

As if on cue, the exiting line sped up, then the entrance line turned and ran, too.

“April, how's it looking in there?” a figure asked, one wearing a purple bandanna, voice somehow flat and passionate at the same time. A bō, a simple wooden staff with every use known to mutant-kind, protruded over one shoulder. He crouched, eyes glued to his phone.

“Not good Don,” a voice said, from his wristband. “They're trashing the jewelry store.”

“Shouldn't we be goin' in?” the largest asked, dwarfing the others by a considerable margin. He had a red bandanna, and two sai were thrust into his belt. Five scars were clustered around his right eye.

“Not yet,” said a third. He wore an eyemask, blue in color, and the hilts of two katana could be seen over his shoulder. Two red crescents, facing outward, flanked his eyes, and yellow crescents rode on his shoulders. “We should wait until they've found what they're looking for.”

“Why?” the smallest, with an orange eyemask, asked pleasantly, sitting on the edge of the building, kicking his feet. He had two pairs of nunchaku, one in his belt, the other on his back. “We could stop them now, then ask.”

“We could,” the blue said, grinning. “But it's less fun that way.”

“Ugh,” the red grumbled. “I liked it better when I was the leader.”

“Whoa, okay. I'm sorry. I happen to have a sense for the dramatic, Raph ,” the blue one said, placing an offended hand to his chest. “That's why Dad made me leader.”

“No,” the purple, Don, said, not looking up from his phone. “He made you leader because we got a whole season cut.” They all turned to look at him, and he finally glanced up. “What? It's true.” He shrugged. “The movie was sort of a replacement, but I still think a whole season would have been better.”

The blue one placed a hand on his shoulder, staring into his eyes. “Donnie. Don't get me wrong, I love you, bro, but what the hell are you talking about?” he asked.

“It's— oh never mind,” Donnie grumbled, rolling his eyes. “You never pay attention when I explain stuff anyway.” He waved a three-fingered hand and went back to scrolling on his phone.

“I do too listen! It's just, you're so incredibly boring , I tune out halfway through,” the blue protested.

“Donnie! Leo! Quit arguing and get your asses in here! They found me!” the voice from the earpiece yelled.

“Gah, fine.” Leo stretched. “Ready, everyone? Mikey, you still with us?”

The orange one hopped up, grinning broadly. “Ready to razz my tazz.”

“Then let's go, bros!” Leo leapt from the roof, followed quickly by the other three, drawing his katana, hurling one through the skylight of the mall with a cry of “Hot soup!”

A scream came from the earpiece. “LEO! Watch where you throw those! You damn near skewered me!”

“Eeesh,” Leo cringed. “Sorry, April.”

A crackly groan came through the earpiece. “Your ass is so buying me boba after this.”

“Yes, yes.” He focused, then flickered blue and disappeared. Inside the mall, he reappeared, flickering blue, hand wrapped around the hilt of his katana. He ducked a swipe from a baseball bat. “Jesus, I said sorry!”

“Yeah, and that was before you popped out of goddamn nowhere, numbnuts!” April growled, panting, glasses askew.

“I'll get you and Casey boba,” Leo promised, holding out a placating hand.

“You better,” she grumbled.

He glanced around the place, some kind of clothing outlet. “Speaking of your girlfriend, where is she?”

“There,” April said, pointing.

A sporting goods store. Of course.

“And the mutants?”

“They were on my ass before I hid in here. I think they lost me.” A crash from below meant Raph, Mikey, and Donnie had entered the building. “That's sure to distract them.”

“And I'll finish them off,” Leo preened. He strode out of the store April was hiding in, a confident smile on his face. He got a good look at the lower level, and at the two mutants he had been tracking.

One was a huge rhino, easily seven feet tall, with raggedy clothes, a potbelly, and a snarl on his lips. The other was an equally huge boar, with wicked tusks curling from his face, ill-fitting sunglasses perched on his snout. Both were heavily muscled.

Leo's face fell. “Eeeoh, boy,” he murmured. “You know what, never mind. I think I'll let Raph handle this one.”

“Like hell you will!” Raph's voice yelled in his earpiece. “Get your ass down here!”

“F ine ,” Leo groaned. He walked calmly, unhurriedly to the nearest escalator, pausing to look at this and that.

“LEO!” Raph roared. “I'LL BEAT YOUR ASS EVEN MORE BLACK AND BLUE!”

“God damn , bro! I'm coming , I said!” Leo said, holding his earpiece away from his ear. “Jesus Christ .” He leaned casually against the railing, slipping it back in. The stairs deposited him on the cool linoleum tile, and he meandered toward the sounds of fighting located conveniently on the opposite end of the atrium from him.

“Excuse me, sirs,” he called. The rhino turned to glare at him, Mikey's arm clutched in his fist. The boar stopped trying to fend off Raph and Donnie at the same time. “I believe those are my dumb ass brothers you're beating up right now. And no one ,” he said seriously , drawing his katana, “beats up my brothers but me.”

The rhino laughed harshly. “So, youses think you can take us?”

“Haha, no. I know we can. We beat the motherfucking Kraang , buddy. And the Shredder, too.” Leo grinned.

“You know, you're really not helping,” Donnie grumbled.

The boar guffawed. “You toitles don't scare us. Break his aahm, Rocksteady.”

“Oh, now I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Leo cautioned, wagging a finger at him. “His arms can be hard to break.”

“We'll see about dat.” The rhino, Rocksteady, it seemed, began to squeeze Mikey's arm.

Without hesitating, Leo hurled a katana, slicing the Rhino's arm as it flew, making him drop Mikey. He flickered to the katana, unleashing a flurry of slashes, driving the rhinoceros away from his brother. “Don't say I didn't warn ya! You alright, Mikey?”

Mikey flexed his arm. “I think so.” He picked up his dropped nunchaku, spinning them around his body rapidly. “Yep! All good, baby!” He grinned widely.

“'Ey, dat hoit!” The rhino rubbed his arm, where the cut had started to bleed. “You'll pay for dat.” He took a swing at them, which they easily ducked. Looks like he was a strong but slow type— easy enough.

Leo stepped in close, still grinning, forcing the hulking rhino to back up. He moved like a blur, katana flashing, flickering all around him, avoiding the arms thick as tree trunks.

“Am I over here? Am I here? Oh, what about over there! Oh, ho-ho-ho! You'll never catch me, I'm the turtle-bread— oof!”

Finally, one connected, launching him across the bottom floor, smashing a fountain on the way. The breath was driven from his body in a whoosh, and he crumpled to the ground. Through a haze, he saw the rhino charging, and knew he couldn't dodge it.

A glowing orange chain rattled and clinked across the space, at ankle height, and Rocksteady couldn't stop fast enough to avoid it. He took a nasty fall, tumbling head over heels, skidding to a halt just a few inches from Leo, apparently unconscious.

Finally, he sucked in a breath. “Whew. Thanks, Mikey.”

Mikey flashed him a thumbs-up and a broad, gap-toothed smile, then leapt to go help Raph and Donnie.

Leo, stopping to make sure the rhino really was out cold, joined him, joining the fray just in time to catch the boar's arm, aiming for Donnie, who was currently on the floor, scrabbling back. “Hey, lay off my brother!” He shoved him back as Mikey hurled Raph, wrapped in the same glowing orange chains, right into his face.

They regrouped, Leo pulling Donnie to his feet.

“Ugh, yous fuckin' toitles!” the boar growled, reaching over his shoulder.

“Uh, my name's Leo, guy. Hey, so your friend was Rocksteady, right? So you're, what, Pebble-stable? Boulder-safe?” He leaned against a katana. “Are you a pig or a boar? No no, wait, you're both! Amiright?”

“I'm Bebop, dipshit!” He whipped his arm back forward, bringing with it what looked like an old-timey shotgun, with a flared end like a trumpet. It began to glow, a pinkish energy sparking and crackling in the mouth of the gun.

Leo's grin fell. “Well, fuck.”

“'Well, fuck' is right, Leon. Out the way!” Donnie yelled. They scattered as a glowing ball tore through the space they had been a second before, exploding when it hit the wall behind them, the hole crackling with that same pinkish energy. “Huh,” Donnie mused flatly, staring at the hole with clinical appraisal. “That's mys-tech. Oh, mother FUCKER! You stole my Newton-damn tech, didn't you! You piece of shit!”

Donnie activated his battle shell, the propellers swinging out and carrying him up and forward, bō beginning to glow a vibrant violet. It formed a rocket at one end, and he swooped close, using the thrust from the rocket and slamming it into Boulder-safe's face. Bebop. Whatever.

He recoiled, and the others moved in.

“Hey Don, my beloved, purple-est brother, did you just imply that was my fault somehow?” Leo asked, dodging a second ball.

“No, Leo. I stated it, but not in so many words.” He swerved as Boulder-safe— Bebop— fired off a salvo.

He hit one with his bō, sending it flying back at him. “Oh, you non-euclidean FUCK! You did steal my tech!”

It exploded against the boar's raised arms, obscuring him in a cloud of smoke for a moment. They didn't have long to rest, because more shots flew out, in every direction.

They scrambled for cover, ducking behind a nearby pile of rubble.

“Hey, April,” Raph growled, peeking out from behind a chunk of balcony. “We could use a little help here. Where's Casey?”

“I am right here!” she yelled, as usual. She stood, hockey stick in hand, fitting a fearsome-looking hockey mask to her face. “Who is the uncultured barn animal, and why is he in my mall!” she demanded, jabbing a finger at the intruder. Her voice was raspy, and her dark eyes gleamed dangerously through the mask.

“That's Boulder-safe— sorry, Bebop— and he was trashing the jewelry store, according to April,” Leo explained. “Care to help a little? He's got some kind of gun.”

“No shit, turtle. APRIL!!” she screamed, startling the four.

“Shit, girl! Don't do that! I'm wearing an earpiece. Hey, wait a sec, where's yours?”

“Huh? Oh, this. It didn't fit with my mask. You! Purple one! Fix it.” She whipped off the mask, throwing it and the earpiece at Donnie. Her perpetually angry-looking face was crowned by a buzz cut, and she had two piercings in her left ear.

“Sure, Casey, we're only in the middle of something,” he grumbled, already working on it. “There.” He tossed it back.

“You have my thanks. April, I could use your bat around now. These four are basically fucking useless.” She fit the mask back on.

“Ugh, fiiine. I didn't want to come back down there.” There was a clatter from above them, then April dropped down, bat in hand, glowing a pale green. “What do you need it for?”

Casey rolled her eyes. “To hit the fucking things back at him. Clearly it hurt him a little.”

“Oh. Well, ya coulda said so! I’m a hell of a batter, ya know.” April grinned, stepping out from behind the balcony. “Hey! Bacon-face! Come at me!” She tapped her bat against the ground, getting into a batter's stance.

“There ya is!” He fired at her, and she swung, bat colliding with the shot with a crack, indeed bouncing it back like Donnie's bō had. This one seemed to work better, because it actually knocked him off his feet. He landed in a heap next to Rocksteady, also out cold.

“Damn,” April murmured. “You were right, babe.”

“I usually am,” Casey preened. She pretended to examine her fingernails, a self-satisfied smirk on her face. “Now, we should probably deal with these freaks. They—” She froze. “Hide!” she hissed.

Without another word, the turtles and April vanished. Casey hid too, through a little more mundane means than ancestral ninpō. A glowing pink circle cut the air— a familiar pink circle. Out stepped two figures, silhouetted by the light thrown by the portal, but it didn't matter. One was huge, about the same size as Raph, and the other was skinny— kinda like Donnie. Both had a flame burning on top of their heads, and as the portal blinked away, an orange footprint was revealed on their faces.

“What the hell?” the skinny one rasped, in a voice that sounded like he had been smoking since, like... 1987. “What the fuck happened here?”

“I dunno, but our new friends ain't gonna like it,” the bigger one rumbled.

“Shit, you're right.” He caught sight of Rocksteady and Bebop, in a pile. “Oh, goddammit! You two, get your lazy asses up!” He kicked Rocksteady, but he only groaned. “Ugh. Fucking useless. Come on, help me drag them back.”

“Fine. But you're buying lunch.” The big one bent and lifted the boar, and the skinny opened another portal. “ I want carrot cake . Th e rabbit from yesterday gave me a craving .”

The skinny hauled the rhino to the portal, huffing and puffing. “Oh, shut up. Rabbits don't even eat carrots. Too high in sugar.”

“Why do you know that?”

“Because I—” their bickering was cut off by the portal closing, and the six breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“Well, I guess the Foot's back,” Raph remarked.

“Gasp. They are, question mark exclamation point. What gave you that idea, question mark.” Donnie rolled his eyes.

“Chill, Don. He's only trying to help,” Mikey said. “Wonder what they wanted.”

“Maybe just money? They were in a jewelry store.” April shrugged.

“Seemed a little... Mundane for the Foot. These are the same guys who own a rather successful shoe store chain, you know.” Casey shifted, a little uncomfortable. “They’re pretty set on world domination. Why a jewelry store?”

“Maybe it's something in there they needed?” Leo mused. “Like, uhh, diamonds for a uh, a cutting thing? Or, or a drill! Like how Donnie stole that lady's wedding ring that one time!”

“Heeeyyyy,” he protested. “That was an accident. How was I supposed to know she wanted it? She dropped it in the fucking sewer. I got her another one, anyway,” he grumbled.

“Oh? What's that Don? You got her another diamond ring?” Leo asked, batting his eyelashes, cupping an ear.

Donnie threw up his hands in exasperation. “Okay, fine! It was cubic zirconium. But that was only because I didn't have enough carbon to make a lab diamond. I wouldn't have needed to steal— use — that one if I did.” He crossed his arms.

“Alright, alright!” April held her hands out in a placating gesture. “We need to find out what they were here for.” As if on cue, sirens wailed, drawing closer and closer. “Goddammit! It's the cops! Book it!”

They leapt, climbing out of the skylight Leo had totally-on-purpose, strategically broken with his katana earlier. “So,” he said, leaping to the next rooftop. “You guys wanna get pizza? Hueso owes me one.”

 

 

Chapter 2 Glossary

 

Bō [boh]— 棒. Wooden staff.

Sai [SAH-ee]— 釵. Three-pronged metal baton, intended to catch the enemy weapons. Also called a “swordbreaker.”

Katana [kah-TAH-nah]— 刀. Gracefully curving Japanese sword used by samurai and ninja.

Nunchaku [noon-CHA-koo]— 双節棍, lit. “Pair of Jointed Canes.” Nunchucks.

Ninpō [NEEN-poh]— 忍法, lit. “Sneak Method.” Refers to ninja arts.

Jesus Christ [JEE-zus KRY-st]— A mythological figure of Christian folklore. Said to have been the son of their sole God, sentenced to die for all of humanity’s sins. Allegedly nailed to a cross, stabbed in the side, entombed, then resurrected three days later. Used as a swear by modern English speakers.

Notes:

Thanks for reading!

This chapter was a lot of fun to write, back whenever it was that I wrote it. We must, of course, continue the tradition of Casey x April, but this time, it's actually good because it's lesbians, and not that unnatural hetero nonsense. (Side note: can we talk about how weird it was that they tried to push Donnie x April in 2012 and Leo x April in MM? That was weird, and I hated that. First off, April is clearly a lesbian, and second, re:2012, Donnie x Casey is RIGHT there [even though 2012 Casey is terrible 99% of the time]. They can have their whole "fight over a girl" bit, then like... I dunno, realize that the other boy is actually way better than April, then kiss about it or something. I'm no showwriter. I didn't like much about MM besides the art style, tbh, because let me tell you: high school SUCKS, and it was weird they got a Chinese man to voice a rat who is supposed to be Japanese, but was a full-blooded New Yorker rat in this iteration, and who wasn't even a ninja master to begin with, so how can the Turtles call themselves ninja, but I digress. Leo is also CLEARLY a homosexual, in every iteration, and I do not take criticism, thank you. I blame Seth Rogen for this hetero crap tbh.) Don't worry, Casey and April got their boba after this.
Today's Fun Fact: Carrots are, in fact, too high in sugar for regular consumption by rabbits! They can be given sparingly, as treats, but this misconception was started or popularized by Bugs Bunny, who, in imitation of Clark Gable, gnawed on a carrot instead of smoking... either a cigar or a cigarette, I can't recall off the top of my head. Daily, adult rabbits should eat 70-80% of hay, ~15% pellets, ~3% fresh vegetables (green or red leaf lettuce [NOT iceberg, which is toxic to them], bell peppers, cucumbers, or celery, for example), and the remaining ~2% can be treats, like strawberry, apple, banana, or- if you really want to- carrots, though I stayed away from those because I hate the stereotype. Carrot tops, the leafy green part, are mostly safe, but the root, the orange part, is where the majority of the sugar content lies.
If you have (a) rabbit(s) as (a) pet(s), please make sure to take proper care of them.