Author's Note: This was written for the January-February theme of the Writer-nexus in deviantart, aka Japanese Urban Legends.

When I found out there was such a Japanese spirit, I had to write a little something about him. His name is the Ashiarai Yashiki.

2012 turtles. I don't own them.

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Raphael watched his opponent, eyes narrowed. He had fought many strange beings in his short life, but this one was definitely one of the weirdest.

Besides, he usually engaged his enemies on the surface, in space, even in other dimensions, rarely in his own home.

And never in his bedroom.

"Stay right where you are, Chompy," Raphael whispered to the baby alien turtle who was looking at him with curious, intelligent eyes. "I'll handle this."

Sai in hand, Raphael got up from his hammock – where he had been enjoying a well-deserved nap – and faced the Foot who had just smashed his door open.

"You're going to regret your move," he gritted out, charging him.

The Foot was amazingly nimble in spite of his size, and he jumped over the turtle. The walls trembled when he hit the ground.

Raphael's nostrils flared. The smell was almost unbearable – the Foot was covered in mud. How many years had it been since his last bath?

Spinning, Raphael tried another tactic and threw one of his say, trying to pin his opponent down. The Foot roared in outrage and shook himself, dismissing the weapon stuck in his flesh as if it was a mere splinter.

Raphael took a deep breath. This Foot was tough.

"What do you want?" He shouted.

"Wash me," the Foot whispered. Raphael didn't see his mouth, and doubted that he even had one, but he could definitely hear him.

It was spooky.

"In your dreams," he spat.

It was the wrong thing to say. In one jump, the Foot landed on Raphael and squeezed him against the floor.

"Wash meeee," he demanded.

Raphael tried to break free, but the Foot was larger and heavier than him.

"Raph! What's happening?" Leonardo's voice shouted, and Raphael turned his head as two of his brothers burst into his room.

Leonardo had drawn his katana and Donatello was pointing his bo staff at the intruder. Both gaped as they took the scene in.

"How does it look like? I'm getting flattened by a Foot," Raphael answered angrily, blushing a little.

This was ridiculous.

"But not any Foot, oh no", Donatello said, trying hard to suppress a chuckle. "Congratulations, Raph. You've attracted the attention of the Ashiarai Yashiki, no less."

"The what?" Raphael said, looking at the giant Foot above him. And a Foot he was indeed, with five disgusting toes, a heel and an ankle above. The Foot stopped mid-calf.

"An ancient Japanese spirit," Donatello explained. "He's known for bursting into houses and demanding to be washed."

"Waaaaaash meeeeee!" The Foot approved. He didn't press harder, though, which was a relief.

"Although," Donatello added, "I have no idea what he's doing in the sewers of New York City."

Leonardo shook his head and sheathed his swords.

"MIKEY!" He called, crossing his arms.

His orange-masked brother was there a second later, grinning hugely. Leonardo glared at him while Donatello tried, and failed, not to giggle. Raphael frowned, not liking where this was going.

"Mikey. I thought we agreed on not bringing home unknown spirits?" Leonardo asked in a very calm voice.

"But Leo, he's very nice! And he was tired of Japan, he wanted to travel around!" Michelangelo pleaded.

"What do you mean?" Raphael asked threateningly.

Leonardo sighed, while Michelangelo smirked at him.

"Mikey and I have been working on sharpening his astral plane skills," the blue-masked turtle explained. "He's very gifted, and we've met a few spirits in the process, but…"

Leonardo turned to glare at Michelangelo again.

"…they were supposed to stay there. In the astral plane."

Michelangelo's face was all innocence.

"It's just for a few hours, Leo. He only wants to be washed, that's all. And see? He was nice enough to shrink himself so he didn't need to destroy the entire lair to get inside!"

"That's so thoughtful of him," Donatello remarked wryly.

Raphael choked.

"You've asked this spirit to come after me?" He shouted.

"Nooo, I just said that you were a specialist in defeating Foot soldiers… And he thought he would defend the honor of his fellow fighters."

"Foot soldiers aren't exactly feet," Donatello interjected.

"That's a detail, Dee."

Leonardo shook his head, resigned.

"Honored spirit," he said, bowing to the giant Foot, "will you please release my brother?"

"If he agrees to wash me," the spirit answered politely.

Leonardo, Donatello, and a jubilating Michelangelo all looked at Raphael. Chompy jumped from Raphael's hammock and nuzzled his cheek encouragingly.

"You must be kidding me," the red-masked turtle muttered.

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Raphael was on his knees in the living room, a bucket of warm and soapy water next to him, and rubbing the Foot spirit with a sponge. Leonardo was politely conversing with the spirit, while Donatello was studying the remnants of Raphael's door to see what he could salvage. Michelangelo was comfortably sprawled over the couch, next to Chompy. Both were watching the scene with interest.

Raphael stopped in his task to point a vengeful finger at his orange-masked brother.

"Mikey, you're so going to pay for this."

"I know, bro, but it's totally worth it," Michelangelo answered, sighing dreamily.

The giant Foot moved his giant toes in a threatening way, and Raphael focused again on his task.

"Gross, this is so gross," he muttered to himself. There were so many layers of mud, it was taking hours. It already was his third bucket of water.

At least Leonardo had offered his help – but apparently, the spirit only wanted him.

What an honor.

"I must admit, this is a very elaborate prank," Donatello mused, one hand behind his back.

"Donnie, if you're filming this, you'll share Mikey's fate," Raphael threatened without even looking at him.

"Me? Filming? Of course not, I would never… ever…" Donatello stammered, wiping beads of sweat away and discreetly putting something back in his belt.

Raphael rolled his eyes. He brooded over for a while before glancing at Leo, who was still entertaining the spirit.

"Hey, Leo?" He asked, not interrupting his task this time.

"Yes?"

"I've changed my mind. Next time you and Mikey are practicing your spiritual skills, I want to be in."

Leonardo raised his eye ridges.

"Excellent news, Raph. May I ask what prompted this decision?"

Raphael looked at him innocently.

"Just wanting to spend time with my brothers, that's all."

Leonardo narrowed his eyes, not fooled. As he had tried to convince Raphael and Donatello for ages that they all needed more practice in this particular area, however, he couldn't complain.

Raphael smirked. With Japan rich folklore, he could probably find a spirit willing to help him prank an annoying brother. Of course, it would require a lot of work – traveling to the astral plane was difficult for him – but for such a cause, he would do it.

We'll see who'll laugh last, Mikey.