"Thou canst not think worse of me than I do of myself." –Robert Burton, The Anatomy of Melancholy

"She doesn't think she's worthy to live. But she doesn't realize, she is life." –Derek Raymond, He Died With His Eyes Open

Love Endures All

The men filed out of the cell, leaving him panting, hanging from the metal cuffs secured awkwardly at his elbows and another pair at his wrists. His knees shook as he braced his weight upon the balls of his feet and tried to push up to stand. The chains rattled behind him. His head pounded from the beating. The bitter taste of blood filled his mouth and he spit to one side. It spattered across the floor; marking the gray concrete with a splotch of crimson, bright in the dim light.

Internally he cursed for allowing himself to make such a stupid mistake. He replayed the night over in his mind again. His brothers had made it out. He'd seen to that. But he wasn't quick enough, not smart enough, his strength not enough to endure the long climb. Not after he'd been hit in the left shoulder with a shuriken. He had tried to push past the pain, but the blade had gone in deep and his entire functionality of his left arm had been affected. His hand slipped. It was stupid. But that's what happened. His hand slipped and that was all it took for him to be caught and brought here. Once they had their filthy hands on him, they'd beaten him into unconsciousness. As he had come to, he found himself striped of his gear, not even his mask was left to him, being chained to the cold stone wall behind him.

The cry of metal hinges made his face snap towards the doorway. Light flooded in, blinding him. Blinking his watering eyes, he made out a silhouette standing in the doorway. Slim and lithe, one hand perched on a hip, the other holding some kind of baton.

"Comfortable?"

Her voice reached him and he felt a pang of something sharp and confused within his chest.

"K-Karai?" he asked. But he already knew who it was.

She stepped into the room and her appearance took shape as some of the shadows receded. Leonardo searched her face for any sign that he might be able to reach her. To reason with her. But her expression held a cold, superior look. A half-smile, wicked and mocking teased one end of her lips.

Reflexively, Leonardo swallowed. His eyes traveled down to her hand. Clutched tightly was not a baton in her fist but rather the handle of a leather, three-tailed whip. He felt his stomach twist and drop. By broken inches, his widened eyes raised back to hers. He kept his face a blank neutral but his eyes told her of his fear. His breathing quickened slightly as his pulse began to race.

"You're going to pay for everything you've done to me and my father," she promised.

"K-Karai. I . . . you have to listen to m-"

"I don't have to do anything," she sneered and brought her arm back.

Leonardo's body tensed and before he could slam himself backwards against the stone wall to try and avoid the blow, the whip snaked out and lashed across his bare thighs. He jumped and fell back, hissing in pain as a long red welt rose up across both his thighs. Karai, eyes glittering with mad glee, brought it around again and snapped it. This time the leather caught him across his plastron, the tips grazing his right arm. And though the thick covering of his plastron offered him some protection, he still felt the sting.

The back of his head rested on the stone as he tried to slow his breathing. Fighting the panic rising up in him. He yanked and jerked at the chains holding his arms back without even realizing he was trying to pull free. The need to escape was instinctual. The woman before him was not going to listen to reason. And the animal part of his brain accepted what his stubborn mind and heart could not.

She was going to hurt him. Badly.

She was close now and he jumped as she gripped him by the chin and forced him to look into her green eyes. She squeezed his cheeks roughly. "How does it feel? To be helpless? To be betrayed by the one you trusted!?" He shook his head and yanked his face free.

"And this?" he panted. "Is this the way an honorable kunoichi behaves? By using," he paused and licked his dry lips, tasting the blood, "a weapon on one who is defenseless? Where is the honor-"

She stepped back and lashed the whip at him. It struck him across his upper chest, making his head lurch to the side and back. He jumped at the painful contact. She brought her arm across her body and swept it out, bringing the whip back at him again. Across his legs. Then once again before he even had time to catch his breath to cry out in pain.

"Shut up!" She yelled. "I hate you!" She whipped him again and again, screaming as she did, "You make me sick! I hate you!"

He ducked and bobbed, trying to evade the cruel strap of leather that bit into his flesh, cutting in places, stinging and burning, bruising and leaving darkening welts. Across his face, his chest, his arms, his legs, nowhere did the whip not find and mark. Karai snarled and screamed with each blow, sometimes curses, but mostly wild wordless sounds. Feral and savage. She switched hands and continued without mercy.

Leonardo's heels scrambled and dug into the concrete now marred by the sprinkling drops of blood falling from the wounds the whip was leaving behind. He fell against the wall, climbed to stand only to fall back again; whimpering from the vicious onslaught that continued non-stop; desperately trying to find some escape from the pain; until finally he was hanging from the metal cuffs, bloodied and panting; whimpering softly between ragged breaths; shaking uncontrollably. To his shame, tears had started to fall; streaking his bruised and bleeding face.

Karai stumbled backwards, exhausted. Her arms too heavy to lift to deliver any further blows. Her aching fingers uncurled and the handle of the whip dropped to the ground with a soft, almost gentle, sound. Her back hit the opposite wall and her knees gave out. She slid down to the floor. Knees up, arms hanging limply at her sides she stared at him.

His mouth hung open in silent agony; lip curled back, baring his sharp incisor as he took in gasping breaths; making a short wheezing, whimpering sound with each exhale. His chest heaved and his entire body was trembling. One leg had folded underneath him, the other was bent at an awkward angle. Slowly, he brought it up and pressed it close to his chest, resting his cheek on the knee; eyes closed; still panting through gritted teeth.

Karai wiped her cheek with one shoulder.

Her voice wavered as she spoke. "I bet you hate me now. You should."

He made no reply, only that soft whimpering sound that she wasn't sure he could even stop if he wanted to. He was in too much pain for his pride have any control over himself. She swallowed. A sudden swelling inside her chest made it hard to breathe. It was rising higher until it hit her throat; making her choke at the lump it formed there. She made a soft sound and Leonardo cracked one eye open. It rolled for a moment, then found her and focused on her. Karai froze. He blinked several times and she could see it was taking effort for him not to pass out.

"K-Ka . . ."

She heard him trying to say her name. With sinking fascination, and a hammering heart, she leaned forward; moving closer to him so she could hear what he was trying to tell her. She wanted him to scream at her. To curse her or swear vengeance. To tell her he hated her. To promise that he'd kill her when he had the chance. She had whipped him; hurt him; she was a terrible person. She was evil. She wanted him to hate her as much as she hated herself.

"What?" she croaked softly.

"I . . . sor – sorry," he slurred and tried to keep eye contact, but his eye rolled up and his eyelid fluttered closed.

Her face fell. He apologized. To her. For betraying her trust. After she had him brought here. Had him beaten. After she . . . Her wide eyes slowly roved to the whip, bloody and coiled on the ground. Then they snapped back to him; still trembling; dripping onto the floor; hanging painfully from his elbows and wrists. She brought her hands up and gripped at the hair on either side of her head. She pulled at her hair and shook her head back and forth growling, then quickly dropped her fists to the floor, punching it. She slammed both palms down, dragging her nails across the cement and screamed. Then she collapsed forward. A single broken sob strangled free from her throat.

"Shh."

She raised her head to see him gazing down at her. Dark eyes glassy with pain; they only held love in their depths and Karai did not understand. It hurt too much to try and understand. Not after what she had just done to him. But she pushed herself up and then with hands that trembled, she pulled a key from her pouch at her belt. She crawled forward and unlocked each metal cuff securing him to the wall. He fell forward and she caught him in her arms. He made only the softest of moans and then was still. His bulk was heavy against her slim frame. But she could manage it. There was no way she wouldn't.

She threw one of his arms around her neck and with a heave, she stood up; staggering a little, then righting herself. She set her jaw and started forward. Determined to get him out of there before her father found out. To get him back to where his brothers could find him and take him home and care for the wounds that she had inflicted upon him in her moment of blind rage. Tears burned her eyes but they did not fall. He stumbled and she righted them both. He groaned and his legs dragged a little; knees wobbling; but he struggled to hold his own weight and just managed to do so.

"Almost out," she murmured. He stumbled again and she clutched him tighter, "I've got you."

. . .

Three weeks later, Karai peered over the parapet of an apartment building, watching the brothers running along the rooftops across the street from where she stood, unseen. Her eyes locked on him. She had wanted to see how he was healing and had no idea how to check on him. So she had been stalking the rooftops in hopes of coming across him. Leonardo was in the rear.

As if sensing her watching, his steps faltered and he stopped. He looked around and then spotted her. Her stomach knotted. Even from this distance, she could see the dark stripes across his flesh where the padding did not hide the bruises she had given him with the whip. Unmoving, they stared at each other from two buildings away. She braced herself; one hand hovered near the hilt of her sword. One word and his brothers would be on the attack. She waited, holding her breath.

She froze as he raised his hand up. She thought he was going for his sword, but he didn't. He had only lifted it to give a little to wave to her.

Karai's heart jumped into her throat. She blinked and took a step back then spun around and raced into the darkness. Wishing it could swallow her up, literally and not just appear that way. Her heart was a conflicted mess of hope and fear and anger; a mixture of emotions she could barely understand. But one stood out from all the others in clarity: relief.

He doesn't hate me, she thought with a surge of happiness. He did not. Even after what she had done to him. She did not understand his capacity for caring for someone as rotten and useless as herself. She knew she was pathetic and cruel, petty and selfish. But he did. He cared. The foolish little turtle boy did. And it made her happier than anything in the entire world. Joyful.

"He doesn't hate me," she whispered it like a prayer, needing to hear it spoken aloud.

As she gained distance from him, though, a cloud came over her heart; extinguishing her happiness and shading her hope with doubt and self-loathing as a voice in the back of her mind said, Not yet.