Sorry I am posting this up so late. I don't really have an excuse. I didn't start typing up this chapter until Monday the 9th. I've texted up the first couple chapters on my phone. The Mike Wallace I mention later on in the story is in no way related to the football player. I do not own Supah Ninjas, though I probably could.

Chapter 1

Owen's P.O.V

10 days later, 4:45ish

"Another great practice, Amanda and gentlemen. Keep at it. There is still a lot of work to be done. Amanda, keep practicing. It's only a matter of time before you reach Fight Level 4. Owen, keep practicing. It's only a matter of time before you reach Fight Level 3. And Flint, Connor, keep practicing. It's only a matter of time before the two of you reach Fight Level 2. You may leave," Hologramps reported in closing. Hologramps disappeared, turning the power off as he went.

"Come on Kid Q, Flint, and Connor. It's back to the blindfolds," Amanda sang. Needless to say, this elicited some groans. We were still blindfolding Kid Q, Flint, and Connor on our trip to and from the dojo.

"When can we take these off?" Connor cried frustrated.

"When you reach Fight Level 2," Amanda promised. The three sighed and allowed Amanda to blindfold them again. We made our way out of the dojo and back to the school, where their blindfolds were taken off.

"Meet you two back at the school tomorrow at 11:30," Amanda directed at Flint and Kid Q. "Let's go Owen, Connor."

The three of us followed Amanda as we walked back to our respective houses. A good twenty-five minutes later, I arrived back at my house.

"There he is. How is karate going?" my mom asked eagerly. Ever since Amanda and I had changed our code from tutoring to attending/practicing karate, I found my parents believing our lies. As much as I hate lying to them, I can't tell them I'm a ninja. Besides, I had compelling evidence to suggest I was telling the truth.

"Same as usual. I've progressed a little bit, but I still have lots of work to do. I am not yet used to how physically demanding the class is. It will take a while before I get conditioned," I replied choosing my words carefully.

"I'll say. You stink. Dinner is at the Fukanaga's tonight. I recommend taking a shower beforehand," my mom continued.

"On it," I cried already heading upstairs. Hopefully it will get the soreness out of my muscles. After a warm shower, which didn't really help with the soreness in my muscles, I got dressed and met my parents downstairs.

"We'll leave in about ten minutes," my dad decided. I acknowledged him and spent the rest of the time reading the paper. When it was time to go, I left the paper on the table and joined my parents in our trip to the Fukanaga's. When we reached the doorbell, my dad rang it.

"Come in," Marty greeted opening the door. We made our way inside, stopping at the kitchen. Connor and the McKays were already seated. I took a seat next to Mr. McKay.

"Glad to see you again, Owen. How are ya feeling?" Mr. McKay asked.

"I'm okay. Apart from my sore muscles, I'm in pretty good spirits. Any mentions of you know who still rattles me," I confessed.

"That's perfectly natural. I miss him a little too. I still find it amazing that there have been no leads," Mr. McKay admitted.

I couldn't help but agree with him on that point. It's been about two weeks and no one can find him. If he is still alive and out there, which I still believe, then Evil Gramps, his supposed kidnapper, did a good job covering his tracks. Connor claimed to have checked the Ishina lair already and found no sign of him. I was tempted to go with him and check it out again with my other ninja buddies.

"So, Connor, has the instructor given you necessary accommodations in class? After all, you're still in a sling," Mr. McKay asked.

"Oh yeah, he's great. Still creeps me out a bit, but he's comfortable to be around," Connor expressed.

Mr. McKay looked slightly confused, but before he could ask another question, Marty said, "Okay. Get your plates. We've got Macaroni alla Martin-"

Don't get me started on that pathetic excuse of a meal. The noodles tasted like expired cheese, the meal tasted like corn starch, all hard and chewy, and whatever made it alla Martin did not go with mac and cheese.

"And cod. Eat up," Marty finished. I was so busy thinking, I didn't know what he made for dinner. The only satisfaction I got was it was served buffet style. During my meals of cod, green beans, quinoa, and chocolate cake, I was interrupted by Marty's walkie talkie.

"James Parker to Martin Fukanaga. I repeat, James Parker to Martin Fukanaga," the person on the other end of the walkie talkie cried out.

"Martin Fukanaga here. I read you loud and clear," Marty spoke back in to the walkie talkie.

"You have been asked to head to the police station immediately. Someone is there to see you."

"On whose orders?" It was clear he was not too happy about leaving dinner.

"A Mr. Mike Wallace."

"Mike Wallace? Mike Wallace….oh, Mike Wallace. I'll be right over." With that Marty got off the walkie talkie. "I've got to go to the police station. I'll try not to be gone too long." With that, Marty left. Unsure as to who Mike Wallace was, we continued our dinner.

Dessert came and went without any return from Marty. I figured all the guests, myself included, were waiting to see what Marty would bring home. Finally, at about 9 o'clock, the door opened.

"Well, the police did it. It took almost two weeks, but they have found Mike," Marty announced.

"You mean-" Amanda started.

"Yup. Everyone, say hello to Mike Fukanaga!"