TMNT + B (RotTMNT with OC) Episode 1

Episode 1

Catchy elevator music. Say what you will about the capitalist bourgeois, they’ve got good taste in music. Decor could leave a little bit of desire. Any more gold, and I’d start feeling like this is weird foreplay for a golden fucking shower if you know what I mean.

When the doors finally opened, I found that the balcony was filled with dozens and dozens of muscled thugs in blacksuits. I don’t know why Mr. … I don’t remember his name, but let’s call him rich fuck. I don’t know why Mr. Rich Fuck needed this many thugs to open a single briefcase, but I suspect it’s an issue with his penis.

Small dick energy as it were.

“Morning,” I smiled, taking one hand out of a pocket to wave as I walked out of the elevator. Was it morning? Seeing as the moon was out, no, but eh, fuck it. “I’m here for my sugar daddy money.”

Get it? Because I’m a bunny girl, and he’s a rich fuck, and I’m going to take his money.

…NO? Eh, it made sense when I said it.

“It’s the White Rabbit!” one of them shouted.

Fucking gratifying to know that I have a reputation. Good for a girl’s ego, you know?

Looking to the left and the right, Mr. Rich Fuck slammed his hands on the table and screeched, “Well! Get her!”

I winced as every single one of them dived towards me.

Or rather the Illusion of me. A small dust cloud erupted, but I enhanced it with an illusion of my own. Keep up the confusion. No need to get my fur dirty in a fight when they could fight for me.

Rolling my head around as I strolled along, I winced as I felt a tense muscle. Shoots, got to stretch more often.

“She’s right there!” Mr. Rich Fuck shouted. Uselessly, of course. Every single one of his mooks was already under my Genjutsu, their reality distorted upon my whims.

There were many things I could have said. Something menacing no doubt. Witty was absolutely within reach of my skill set. Humor wasn’t my strong suit, but I figured biting sarcasm could more than make up for that failing of mine. Hellfire, I could’ve just simply explained what was going on.

For some reason, that’s made so many cry when I explain what exactly I’m doing.

Instead of doing any of that though, I just grabbed his shirt, layered an illusion of myself onto his body, and tossed him into the scuffle to become a punching bag. I’d feel bad for how the thugs would probably get fired, but they had a good union. Pretty sure they added in a clause about how attacking your boss while being mentally impaired was not grounds for firing.

Actually, make that definitely sure. I’ve gotten fruit baskets from the Thug Union for giving their mooks an excuse to punch the less savory bosses.

What a beautiful night. Simple job, rich asses getting pummeled, and ooh, a nice bottle of unopened champagne. Technically, I was still under age in this life, but I was also a mutant bunny girl, so eh. Fuck it. The Old Rat probably wouldn’t even care about this sort of thing.

Popping the cork open and pouring myself a glass, I took a swig. Mm. Tastes like expensive pretentiousness.

Looking up at the night sky, I smiled fondly as I saw the silhouettes of four fucks (affectionate) rappeling over to cannonball into the pool ont top of the next building. I hope the turtles were having fun on Cannonball Day. I’d have loved to join them, but somebody had to supply the Hamato Family with cash.

Checking the contents of the suitcase the landlord ass had been making moon-eyes to, I smiled and clicked the suitcase closed. Even after I donated half of it to rental assistance charities, there would still be enough to keep us in the black for the next six months and give us a nice bit of money for emergencies and maybe even an extra influx of allowance.

Swinging it over my shoulder, I sidle around the scuffle to slip back into the elevator.

These chucklefucks would be stuck fighting one another for a good bit. A little bit of Illusions, a spice of Hallucination, and a smidge of Hypnosis, and they would beat their money-grubbing landlord of a boss all night long, thinking he was me, until the sun rose.

Ah, fucking love it when a good plan run smoothly.

Hm. I should leave with a one-liner. Have something to brag to Leo about. What to do though? Wasn’t much of a fight. Ahah! I remember what that first guy said. I’ll have to rework the sequence of events in the retelling but it should make Leo happy.

Clicking the Lobby, I twirled the suitcase around my finger and timed the finish with the closing of the elevator.

“Correction. It was the White Rabbit,”

Hah. Nailed it.

Thievery always felt great when the target was guilt-free.

==========

As stereotypical as it was, Chinatown was the best place to launder money, and my preferred laundromat (Innuendo) was the Jade Hare Restaurant. Was it a bit egotistical to select a restaurant that paid homage to my species? Yes, absolutely, why the fuck shoudl I be ashamed?

In all honesty, it was just good business. The folks there knew me, both my true form and what I did, and we had an understanding. Every so often, I would drop by a haul and they would give me what was left of the last haul, no questions asked. Ideally, it would be a fifty/fifty split, but I didn’t check too hard.

If they skimmed off the top, they more than made up for it with the permanent discount on Dim Sum and Bao that they made.

Donnie may have insisted that he could just hack money in, but call me old-fashioned, but I preferred having some form of cash just in case one of Donnie’s offshore bank accounts got hacked. Or something. I don’t know how computers work.

Anyways, all that was to explained why I had a veritable buffet of chinese delicacies laid upon the dining room table. Shiu mai for Raph, Fried Wontons for Donnie, the Mochi Rice Balls for Mikey, taro cakes for Leo, and turnip cakes for me. Dad got saimin as per usual, but there was enough fried rice and chow fun for all of three times over.

…I hope the boys (affectionate) come home soon. The dim su’s going to get cold.

I should check if Papa wants some right now. It’d be nice to have a meal with just the two of us. Bounding from the first floor to the second floor, I followed the sound of blaring television.

“I’m home, old man!” I called out.

I got a snore for my trouble.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine too,” I rolled my eyes.

The old man was lying down on his recliner, sleeping to the incessant lullaby of advertisements. I lowkey hated the damn TV. Made the old man waste days and weeks just zoning out. You have any idea how humiliating it is to have the daughter give her father a fucking bedtime? Really fucking embarassing.

At least he followed the dancersize videos and was slowly getting back into shape. I don’t know if it’s possible to un-fuck his back from the horrible posture he subjected it to for years, but fuck it, I’m going to try and nag the Old Man into being healthy.

“Hey, where are the turtles?” I asked, not really expecting an answer..

Another snore.

“...Yeah, that sounds about right,” I rolled my eyes.

Judging by the… by the fucking crumbs and milk stains, the old man had just finished milk and cake, so he’d be out of it for a while. Perfect time for a checkup then. Was it an invasion of privacy? Sure, yeah. fuck it, probably.

But if he wanted to be awake and aware for this sort of thing, he should stop trying to dodge checkups. And stop leaving fucking crumbs everywhere. We live in a sewer. We are already surrounded by gods know how many fucking STDs. We do not need to invite any more vectors of infection through mess.

Laying the old man down, I pulled a stool over and began doing a casual checkup on him. All my medical knowledge was scrounged from textbooks and youtube videos, and fucked if I knew how any of our biologies worked, but I had to try, be the one to make sure everybody was healthy.

I had measured Dad last week and he was holding steady at 45 kilos. Despite the pudge, he was actually a bit underweight. I’d have to make sure he ate more and not just fucking pizza. I understood that it was easy and shit, but fucking hell. Nutritional balance. I started a garden for a fucking reason. Rats, turtle, bunnies, we need to eat our vegetables, you chucklefucks (derogatory).

…Where’d Donnie put the-- Ahah. Found the blood pressure thingie. Strapping it around the old man’s arm, I found that the readout was 120 over 80. That was good for a human, but was it good for a rat? Rat-man? Thing? Mutant-thing? Hopefully. It had been falling within that range ever since I started doing this a few years back, so I hope that was him actually being healthy and not me reading a horrible number and thinking that was the norm.

Pinching his cheeks, I opened his mouth. Teeth looked good. Front teeth were getting a bit long, so I’d have to bug him to use his tooth toy. I knew it made him feel not-Human, and I felt bad about it, but he had to take care of himself even if it meant using rat techniques. Tongue was a healthy color, and I… don’t think there’s cavities? I hope not.

Fur was smooth, so he was showering and grooming himself. I wanted to do an eye check, but that was impossible to do without his cooperation. Note to self, bribe Raph to pin him down and find something to bribe the old man with.

That was about all I could do with him asleep. If he was awake, I’d have loved to go through reflex checks, muscle checks, something checks. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not an actual doctor. I’m just trying to check things before they went wrong.

All in all, Papa looked healthy. And he did seem to be doing the self-care routine I had forced on him, or at least going through the motions. Pulling the blanket over him, I kissed his forehead and left.

I worried about the old man. He’s been better ever since I bullied the boys into helping me do an intervention with him, but… He was… How do I say it?

He was smaller. Not just physically but… something more. Rubbing my face, I wondered how I could… fix him. Have him be… not small. Or something. I don’t know. The boys think he’s fine and everything’s just… just fine, but this isn’t normal.

The Old Man used to be so much more. He would teach and train and spar and just… I wish I could help him, but I just… I don’t know how. He’s been doing more exercises though and losing weight, but is it enough? I don’t know. I’ve studied the notes on the Hamato Ninpo, what little information he gave me way back when, and it says that a healthy mind and healthy body are needed to be strong, but I don’t want Papa to be strong, i just want him to be happy and not di--

I cut off that line of thought. He’s still alive. He’s fine. He’s… trying? I don’t know. The Old Man’s been running the boys through katas even if they are just… Lou-Jitsu movies.

…I should do my chores. No sense in wasting time. After that I could go to my garden and start fucking about with the aquaponics system. And then training and research. And do anything and everything to not sit in silence.

Sitting in silence is not good for Saki, nosirree. That’s when the voices start whispering.

I looked at the clock. It’s getting a bit late for the boys, but eh, tonight was cannon-ball night. They definitely got distracted, the ADHD fucks (affectionate).. Dad’s been training them more often, so they should be able to handle anything.

I had enough things to worry about. No need to give myself more.

====================

Those four fuckers (derogatory) better be on the brink of death when they come home, or I’m going to make sure they can go fishing on the banks of the Sanzu River.

It was almost fucking morning. They KNEW the dangers of staying out late. Not all of them, not the mystic shit or the hidden city or Big Momma. Me and the Old Man hid those dangers from them, but even the ones we told them about were enough.

Fucking Earth Defense Force trying to dissect everything.

Gods above, it’s been fucking three damn hours. The dim sum’s not just cold at this point; it’s fucking arctic. Fucking three damn hours after they’re curfew and I hear no sign of them. They didn’t even bother to text. Worst of all, I have the sinking feeling that they were somewhere they abso-fucking-lutely should not be based on the fact that the old man’s mystic coin was missing.

I feel like I’ve been pacing back and forth for hours. Actually, judging by how there’s a noticeable clean spot in the grime, I probably have been.

“Where the fuck are they?” I repeated for the umpteenth time.

“Usagi, you must learn to relax. All things will come in time.” Papa laughed, chortling at his stupid advertisements blaring from his room. Gods, I hated those advertisements. He’s been watching them non-stop since he woke up and he’s not even worried about the kids.

FIne. Fine. I’ll worry enough for both of us. Stomping into the TV room, I snapped, “Oh, shut the fuck up and get back on the couch, Lou Jitsu.”

There was a moment of silence as I realized I went too far. I should apologize. Shit. Fuck.

There was a deep breath and then the Old Man roared, “You dare--”

Actually, you know what? I shouldn’t have to deal with a lecture. Not from this fucking old man.

“Yeah, I fucking dare,” I whirled around. I did not need some Zen-ass fucking koans. Somehow, there’s an entire category of things worse than ‘calm down’ to someone angry and that’s fucking koans. “You’ve been stuck on that couch all day, every day. I’m the one who goes out and makes sure we have money for everything. I’m the one who makes sure those four fucks (affectionate) don’t fucking kill themselves. I’m the one who has to clean up everything and I am SICK of cleaning up everything. We live in a fucking sewer, but that doesn’t mean it has to be as dirty as a fucking sewer! Trash goes in the trash bin! Dirty clothes go in the hamper! Used dishes go in the dishwasher! AND FOR THE LOVE OF MISS JAPAN, STOP LEAVING CRUMBS EVERYWHERE!”

Huffing, I shivered. That felt fucking good.

“...I will stop leaving crumbs.”

“That’s a start,” I whirled back to face the entrance. Foot tapping, ears flicking, fucking hells, I was like a wind-up toy ready to explode with anxiety. They are not usually out this late. And if they were out this late, April would’ve given us a call by this point, but nope.

No call. No signal. And they knew better than to leave me fucking in the black of when they suddenly disappeared because I put the fear of BUN in them.

“But Usagi--”

“No,” I cut off the old man. I did not need to endure his weird-ass coping mechanism. He used to call us by names. But then he just… started being distant and calling the boys by color and me by usagi. It was cute at first, like… pet-names, but now it just fucking hurts.

“Wha--”

“No, fucking call me by my name. Or don’t fucking bother at all.” Maybe I was a bit too harsh, but I was strung higher than a fucking body on a noose. I just needed space. Or silence. Just… I needed space.

The old man grabbing my lapel and yanking me down was not space.

“Is that how you speak to your father, young lady!?” the fucking rat spluttered into my face.

Grabbing my lapel to yank it free, I leaned in and growled, “I don’t see any fathers, Mister Lou-Jitsu. Only husks of old men.”

He slapped me.

You know what I said about space? I fucking lied. A fight was what I needed.

Leaving my neck loose, I swung back in with a cackle and let my head dangle like i was the Girl from the Ring, “Heh, that’s all you can do, eh? Just fucking slap. Where’s the punches? The kicks? Come on old man. Where’s the fucking love!?”

I watched as the old rat raised his hand, grinning and simply turning the other cheek. I didn’t say anything, but I fucking dared him to do it again. Just for good measure, I pointed at it with both hands, saying it with everything but words.

Fucking hit me.

He didn’t, the fucking coward, but that was just fine by me. At least he’s finally showing something than fucking apathy for once. At least this time he could be bothered to do something other than lie around.

Shaking my head, I spat to the side and snarled, “You don’t remember their names. You don’t remember MY name. I remember your name though, Mr. Lou-Jitsu.”

“Don’t--” the old man backed away despite the fact that I didn’t even fucking move, “Don’t call me that!”

“Whyever the fuck not, Mr. LOU-JITSU!?” I roared, tossing my head back into a weeping laugh, “It’s more respect than you’ve given us these past couple years!”

All the anger, all the rage, everything I buried for the past half-decade was bubbling out, and a small part of me wanted to stop. A small part of me was aware of how much pain I was putting the old man in, but I didn’t stop. This was… I don’t know what it was, but the old rat was finally fucking feeling something other than apathy and disinterest and just… I didn’t want to stop.

Seeing tears streak down his face though, I knew I had gone way too fucking far.

That always was a problem with me. Every single life of mine, I never knew when to stop until I went too fucking far.

…I just… I don’t want the Old man to… I just wanted him to not be…

It’s hard seeing someone fade. To go from a master of martial arts that taught you how to fight to somebody who seemed determined to merge with the couch. To see someone let themselves go. To see your father die and see an old man just… just there.

Wiping my face, I hissed when I felt how wet it was. Fucking hate it when I cry. Why do I always fucking cry when I get angry?”

“...I get that you’re--” I turned and punched the wall, the pain being wonderfully clarifying. Fuck, I didn’t want to be mean, but I want to be honest and just… I punched the wall again, harder, and forced the words to come out, “I get that you’re depressed. Have dysmorphia. Kinda fucked in the head from the shitshow you lived through, that you got us all out of.”

“Usa--”

“Uh. Uh. Uh!” I waggled a finger, biting on my cheek to prevent myself from lapsing back into anger. Swallowing the blood from how hard I bit myself, I gritted out, “Real names only.”

He remained silent. It wasn’t good, but it was better. Things were… maybe calming down.

“...I remember when you tried your best, old man,” I placed my forehead against the wall. Nice and cool and smooth. The mortar in between them felt rough in a familiar way and I traced rectangles to ground myself. “When you made sure we could… I don’t know. Have stuff. Teach us shit. That kind of crap, but it feels like ever since you felt that we could kinda sorta take care of ourselves, you just fucking gave up. The only things you ever do are eat, sleep, and watch TV.”

I took a deep shuddering breath and tried to backpedal. “I know you try. I know.”-I punched the wall.-” I know.”-I punched the wall again harder-”I know!”-I cracked it with a final punch and… I had to breathe in and out for a moment to find the words--”You get up every day and run the boys through their katas, and I know I have to nag you everytime to do it, but… Every time you do it, it feels like you’re promising to… to not…”

I didn’t want to say it.  I know… I hope he didn’t, but it sometimes felt like the Old Man was trying to…  and just…  I wish the Old Man would say something. Do something. Be the Dad he used to be.

After a long moment of silence, I lifted my head off the wall and stepped forward to hug him. He seemed surprised, but if there’s one thing I remember, it’s never end a fight on a sad note. Never leave it with words you’ll regret. Even if it hurts, even if it undermines everything you’ve said, leave it in a way that you feel the least amount of pain.

“I’m sorry about calling you Lou Jitsu,” I apologized, hugging him tightly, “That was shitty of me. Shouldn’t have done that. I love you, Papa. Please don’t die.”

Hesitantly, the old man returned the hug. A soft pat on my back was enough to make the tears start flowing again.

I’m such a shitty daughter, but… I don’t know what to do. I just… The Old Man needs help, but I can’t give it to him and just… I don’t know.

“...Murasaki, I--”

“It’s fine,” I cut him off, letting go of my father. I wiped my face and put on my best and brightest smile.  “Let’s just wait together.”

Looking at my face, he opened his mouth to say something, but… Thankfully, he closed it. I don’t think I could handle Papa… Handle the Old Man’s apologies right now. Shaking his head, he simply sighed, “...Very well, daughter.”

The next few moments were awkward, but I made sure to hold out my hand. When the old man grabbed it, I squeezed it and just held on. I didn’t know what else to say, but we just stayed like that for a bit.

Eventually, footsteps echoed down the hall.. I heard… One, two, three, four, I heard four sets of footsteps. Closing my eyes, I sent out a pulse of Mystic Energy and sighed in relief when I felt the boy’s signatures ping back. They were back, they were healthy, and for some odd reason, they were happy and excited which was a fucking relief after three hours of anxiety and that last argument with the old man.

You know, while I feel bad about lashing out at Papa, it was probably for the best since now I no longer want to drown them in the Sanzu river. I just want to drown them and then hug them. I’m so happy they’re safe.

“Ok! Remember guys, we have to be quiet about this,” I heard Raph’s voice echo throughout the walls. “If we’re lucky, Saki’s still out on her trip.”

Doesn’t mean I’m not going to fuck with them. Leaning down to kiss the old man’s head, I then dashed into the sewer system and followed the fading echoes to find all four of them hugging the wall. Raph’s body was turned around, lecturing the other three about the importance of stealth.

Activating a perception-dampening Genjutsu, I quietly slipped into the midst of the four idiotic fucks (affectionate) and casually asked, “Quiet about what?”

“About sneaking back in, of course, Big Sis Saki,” Mikey chirped, hugging the wall and siding along, glancing left and right, “Now quiet. We can’t let her hear us. We’re ninja. N-I-N-J-A.”

I nodded, joining him in hugging along. That made sense. Can’t sneak in if you’re heard.

“Yeah, don’t tell her we broke the Ancestral Hamato weapons either,” Leo cut in, sidling along behind “...Wait, do tell her, but mention that we found new ones.”

I had been wondering where he’d gotten the new blue-pommeled swords and what had happened to Mikey’s nunchucks. Poking my head out from the line-up, I searched Raph’s body and nodded when I spotted the tonfas. Ahah. I’m assuming Donnie simply kept his because he actually kept maintenance on his weapon.

“That’s not how that works, Leo,” Raph grunted, “Ancestral weapons take ancestors using them to become ancestral.”

“These ones glow. And also do cool magic shi--” I slapped Leo with my ears. “Ow! What was that for, Big Sis!?”

“No swearing,” I scowled. Wait, what was that about magic? You know what? Not important.

“But you swear all the tiiiiiiiiime…” Leo trailed off. Pointing at me, he gulped, “...How long have you been there?”

“The whole time.” Donatello sighed, having simply been strolling along. He always was the best at breaking free of mind-tricks. I’ll go easy on him since he didn’t ruin my little prank,  “What’s the verdict this time?”

Stepping off from the wall, I stretched and smiled as I addressed my four dipshit (affectionate) brothers, “One week’s worth of training. Unless you want to tell me what you’ve done with the Old Man’s Mystic Coin?”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...Is that what it’s called?” Mikey asked, cocking his head. “Do you know where we can find a replacement?”

“Shush!” his three brothers chorused.

Broken Mystic Coin? Annoying, but I had long outgrown the need for it. Hopefully, the boys (concerned) would forget all about it and never ever go back to Mystic City again.

I waited a bit longer, waiting for one of them to crack and confess. When they didn’t, I sighed, half in irritation, half in pride. “Ah, I’m so proud of you fucks (affectionate) being so loyal to one another and keeping quiet. So very proud.That being said, It’s going to be seven days of hell training. I hope you’re used to sleeping in rotations! There will be no mercy even for the weak.”

All four of them shivered. Have I mentioned how gratifying it is to have people fear you? Because it does fucking wonders when you’re a five foot midget bunny-girl. They fucking deserve it.

Splinter coughed, “No need, Usa… Saki. No need to be so harsh, Usaki. A simple week’s worth of training will be enough.”

“It’s Saki, but I’ll give you points for trying, old man,” I elbowed him. I actually was proud of him. It was small, but this was the first time in a while he stepped in to stop me. I then clapped his hands twice,“Thank him, boys (derogatory). You get to sleep at night.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Thanks!”

“Thank you very much, Honorable Father.”

“Can you not just override her?”

Smiling brightly, the old man shook his head, “Alas, I must clean my room.”

We all stared at him as he walked back into the lair. A beat, a moment, and then, miracle of miracles, the bopping music of Dancersize videos popped on. I almost became disappointment when suddenly I heard a vacuum turn on.

“Is he…” Leo trailed off.

“Actually…” Mikey tried to continue.

“Cleaning?” Donnie cocked his head to the side.

“Like with a vacuum?” Raph exclaimed, throwing his hands forward in an attempt to catch sense.

I simply sniffled, “He really is trying.”

Mushing my head, Raph chuckled, “You cry over the weirdest things, Big Sis.”

Embarassing to point out, but fortunately, I have the perfect comeback, “Training starts now.”

Have I mentioned how nice it is to have people scream in fear of you? Fucking fertilizer for the ego.

==========

AN:

Was watching RotTMNT. Very good show that did not deserve the treatment it got. The movie was fucking amazing. So many SAKUGA moments. Mostly wrote this to try and get past some writer's block. I hope you enjoy! If it goes well enough. I might expand upon it.