The Beautiful PeopleWrapping up what was just another evening of beating the tar out of your run of the mill street thugs, Raph had sated his fists and was ready to head home, tying the last four would-be muggers together with intricately-knotted clothesline they weren't likely to get out of without aid of scissors.
It was alarming, then, that the girl suddenly blocking the only entry to the alley (if you weren't a ninja) was holding a large pair of shears in one hand.
Slightly more distressing, at least to those familiar with the urban legend, was the fact her face was concealed by a surgical mask. Anyone knowing those two characteristics knew the kuchisake-onna, the slit-mouthed woman, was bad news.
Why the ghost decided to manifest in New York, of all places, rather than Japan, was a mystery, as was why she decided to appear to Raphael. She didn't seem bothered in the least that he was a mutant turtle, as she sashayed seductively toward him. The only ones not afraid of mutants were either aliens or spirits. Go figure…
He could have bolted up the fire escape and evaded her… or perhaps she'd just manifest in front of him again there. In any case, he'd already decided not to run, even as she minced up to him. He was ready for her. In ways, he'd always been ready.
"Do you find me beautiful?" she asked as she reached him, right on cue.
"Sure," he replied honestly, and waited as she removed the mask covering the horrid slashes that extended her mouth to the tops of her jaws.
"What about now?" the ghost demanded. He paused, reaching out to stroke her cheek gently above her ruined mouth.
"Ya wear a mask, to hide your scars," he started, not giving her a straight answer. "Thing is… I know a few things about masks myself." He tugged the red banner of cloth from his own eyes and spun it around one finger. "Dey conceal who ya are, or yer expression, or certain attributes about ya. Or dey can be a symbol of somethin' else. But dey don't actually hide it all, do dey? People know things or can guess things just by looking at the mask. They see yours, and know something must be wrong. Dey don't know what mine stands for, and run away. And without 'em… Dey see your scars and gasp; dey see me an' scream an' run, hero or no. We got da same story, you an' me."
She made no effort to move as he set three-fingered hands on her shoulders, neither to back away and lower the cutters nor to attack with them.
"Y'see, I know. Know all about people, an' how dey only know ya from the outside, judgin' the book by its cover. I ain't gonna do dat to ya. I don't know ya. Something horrible happened to your outside, sure, but inside… Like I said, I don't know ya, but you could be ugly inside, or ya could be beautiful. Ya got a choice a' what ya wanna be..." He leaned in, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "So be beautiful."
A few seconds of silence, then…
Metal rang on concrete as the scissors fell from her clutch. She let out a sob, and Raphael looked down into her slashed face. Her eyes gazed back, brimming with tears, and though her mouth was torn into a permanent smile, the apples of her cheeks rose, making crescents of her tearful almond eyes. She sobbed once more out of bitter-laced joy, then dissolved, feet to head, in some sparkly white glitter effect.
He nodded in approval. She went for beautiful.
He stooped and picked up the shears, tucking them into his belt beside his sai. Not like he was going to leave them in reach of the cluster of bound thugs. Besides, it'd make a nice souvenir… This might've been as close as a mutant like him would ever get to kissing a real girl.
Maybe she did come to him for a reason.
Casey looked down at him over the rooftop. "You been practicin' that speech in front of the mirror in case that ghost happened ta show up?"
"Maybe," he smirked. He may not have been practicing it for the ghost so much as for himself. But hell if he was going to tell that to his dipshit friend. "What's it ta you, Mister Hide-On-The-Roof-When-The-Ghost-Shows-Up?"
"Shaddap and put your damn mask on, asshole."
"Alright, alright…" Raph conceded. A moment later, he called, "Hey, Case!"
Casey turned back to see Raph with his mask tied around his mouth, scissors in one hand.
"Whaddya think? Am I beautiful?"
"Dude, Raph, you knock that shit off right now!"
The turtle chuckled at Casey's expense. "C'mon, Case, you scared of a little ghost chick? Answer the question!"
The vigilante turned, humoring Raph and giving him an apprising look, chin in his hand. "Yeah, I guess you ain't too bad. For a head a' broccoli."
"I'll show you a head ah broccoli!" he bellowed, tucking the scissors away and charging his friend with fists swinging. "C'mere!"