A/N: Here we have a bonding chapter. ;)

Duckie, more layers lay in wait, so prepare!

Feather, you'll notice that a lot in my works. I believe a story needs strong supporting characters and minuet details paint a bigger picture and bring cohesiveness. It shows how small things in life can lead to something bigger!

CHAPTER 21: THE GAME

Although Nia's pudgy legs dangled over a building ledge, the sheer twenty-four story drop below didn't unnerved her. Heights, after all, were far less terrifying than small talk.

'Say something!' she thought. 'Anything to make this less awkward!'

"So," Nia started, stiff, "h—how about a game?"

Raphael tore his attention away from the busy streets to face the artist. "What?" he questioned.

Nia glanced sideways, noting how Raphael's dark features contorted, as if she'd spoken an alien language. "I said, how about a—a game?"

In the silent moments that passed, Nia thought her question went ignored. Probably under the pretense of it being silly. A game? What were they? Ten? Ugh.

"What kind 'a game?" Raphael continued.

"I—I don't know," Nia added. "Something, uh, easy?"

"Easy?"

"It could be fun!" Nia's voice squeaked as she ignored the mutant's gaze. "Just not a physical game. I get winded going up stairs. Which, I admit is unhealthy and sad. But I hate exercise. The sweating, the exertion, the soreness. It's unpleasant. A—a—anyways. What was I saying? Oh, yeah! A game. An easy game. Word game? We don't have board games. How about one where we get to know each other like Twenty Questions?"

By her conclusion, Nia heaved with a forced grin plastered across her face. And Raphael remained still.

'Stupid Nia. Why do you always ramble? Even I'm annoyed! He doesn't care about your lacking exercise habits! Why would he? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!'

"Twenty Questions, eh?"

Nia's grin died. Why'd the mutant sound on the verge of laugher? Inhaling, the artist watched Raphael. He didn't look annoyed, though her brows furrowed when he claimed a seat on the ledge.

"Is Twenty Questions funny?" she asked.

"No," he countered. "It's just—ya know that's a guessin' game, right?"

"N—no, it isn't."

"Yeah, it is. One party picks an object an' the second party has twenty questions ta identify it."

"Mama never taught it that way."

"What way did she teach it, then?" With an eye ridge raised, Raphael sat Indian-style then twisted his head towards Nia.

"We—well, she used it to"—the artist exhaled—"to help me bond with classmates. You take turns asking questions about each other. Th—they can be anything: dreams, likes, fears, uh…" Uncertainty silenced Nia. She contemplated retracting her suggestion, but then Raphael spoke up.

"We'll play. On one condition."

"W—what's that?"

"Shin."

"…What does a shin have to do with anything?"

Raphael shook with laughter, more so when Nia's face reddened. "Shin's the Bushido teachin' 'a honesty."

"Oh."

"It means ya tell the truth, no matter what. Deal?"

"Deal. But the same applies to you, right?" If his wide, pressed mouth were an indicator, Nia would guess the ninja dreaded equal ground.

Even so, he nodded. "Who goes first?"

"You can."

"Let's see…" Raphael tapped his chin then nodded once. "What's wit' the art facts? Like when ya met us for the first time?"

"Oh, I—I only do that when I'm scared or nervous," Nia answered with a frown. "G—guess it's my coping mechanism. Art's the only thing I feel confident in, so maybe…my instinct is to comfort myself with it."

"Does it work?"

The young woman flashed a weak smile. "If anything, it keeps me sane. Uh, speaking of fear, Mikey says you have Entomophobia. I—is that true? You don't seem like a bug-fearer." Nia felt Raphael tense beside her.

"I don't fear 'em!" he shouted. "I hate 'em. There's a difference."

'Somehow I doubt that,' Nia thought. But she decided not to push the matter since the truth was clear.

"I can play dirty too, Shell-for-Brains," Raphael muttered. "Did ya know Mikey watched over ya for days before the fire?"

The artist blinked. "He…what?"

"Said he had a gut feeling."

"He—he's never mentioned that."

"Yeah. He was a total stalker."

"Um, I—I don't know how I feel about that." Nia's vision fell to her lap. "I was saved because he was there, but…"

"What'd ya do so late at night anyways?"

"Tutoring."

"At midnight?"

"I—I learn better during the night."

"Thought ya told Mike ya weren't in school."

"I'm not, technically. I'm finishing high school online and being tutored at Lyngavaer Medical Collage where…where Daddy worked."

"Ya haven't finished high school?"

Nia shook her head, grimacing at the shock in Raphael's tone. "I missed a lot of school from fifth grade through eighth grade, so I was held back. I…have a hard time in general. With Math especially."

"Why'd ya miss so much? Did it have something ta do wit' that picture?"

The young woman gave a light chuckle. "I—isn't it my turn?"

The mutant scoffed, folding his arms. "Fine. But we're gettin' back ta that question."

Despite his insistence, Nia withheld a frown, asking, "Is your favorite color red?"

"Ya're askin' 'cuz 'a this." The ninja pointed towards the weathered mask tied behind his wide head. "Answer's no. My bandana's red 'cuz that's the color Sensei assigned me. I don't got a favorite. Black is cool, though."

"I see…Uh, is pizza your only favorite food?"

"Nah. I like cereal too. Chocolate Chunk. Next."

"Wh—what do you do in your free time? Like, for fun."

"Train. Or play video games."

"Training must mean a lot to your family, doesn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Why is that? I—I mean, why did Mister Splinter start training you brothers?"

Raphael shrugged, glancing towards the hazy sky. "For discipline maybe? Give us a hobby? Can't say; never asked. Although…he could've done it in honor 'a his master, like we keep Yoshi's memory alive that way. Or somethin'. I—I don't know. Maybe that reason sounds stupid."

"I don't think so." Nia managed a small yet honest smile. "Teachings are perfect memorials, particularly when it comes to...to family. I—I know I'll pass down the things I learned from my parents to my children."

Silent, Raphael stared at the night horizon then shifted. "That was question number five. Ya get one more."

"But I—I don't know what to ask next."

"Then I'll go."

"But—"

"Why'd ya miss so much school?"

Nia sighed until her shoulders slumped. "Sick days," she answered. Really, she had no desire to explain further. Raphael's pointed look, however, saw that she did. "I—I've suffered from chronic headaches for years. Some days, I—I couldn't even leave bed. It feels like I was better acquainted with doctors then I ever was with classmates. I hated it."

"Explains yer cheery expression in the photo."

Nia frowned at the ninja's sarcasm. "The only good times back then were when I'd paint. The pain was always less noticeable then."

"No way is that the only highlight in yer childhood," Raphael said, jaw tense. "Seriously, what oddah good memories ya got? EvenI have more than one, an' I grew up in a sewer."

"I—I'm being honest, as promised. All I did as a kid is art. It was…my sanctuary. I never took to playing outside or hanging with others, so I didn't make many friends. Then when Mama grew too busy with her job, I began spending more and more time alone."

"Sounds borin'."

Nia shrugged, though the mutant's statement stung. "I adapted."

"How? That would drive me insane. My bros may be Shell-for-Brains, but I can't imagine growin' up wit'out 'em. My childhood would've been dull as hell."

"Dull?" A lopsided smile replaced Nia's frown. "I bet you four kept each other busy, huh? What good memories do you have?"

"Plenty. Where would I even start?"

"With Mikey? O—oh, no. Mister Leonardo."

"Ya want a good memory wit' Leo?"

Nia nodded firmly and allowed her smile to grow.

Raphael raised his eye ridges, yet didn't shy away when the artist scooted closer. "Uh…"

"You just said you had plenty."

"I know! Damn, woman. Give me a minute."

Nia did as asked, save for a slight squirm. She eyed her escort as he racked his brain for the right memory, which he celebrated with a snap of his thick fingers.

"Alright," he started. "So. Mike's always been a goof. He was worse as a kid. I tell ya: everyone's still hyper alert when it comes ta April Fool's Day. Anyways, one year, when we were about, uh, eight, I convinced Leo ta help me get payback."

"Y—you mean Mister Leonardo agreed?" Nia questioned. "Oh, uh, no offense. It's just that h—he seems like he would've been a very…serious child."

"He was. Mostly. But he had his moments. He was a kid too."

"Y—Yes. Of course. So, what was the prank?"

"We made Mikey watch a scary movie called Thinman."

"I've heard about that. It's an Eighties horror, right?"

Raphael nodded. "Sensei forbade it. So we watched it behind his back."

"What good sons," said Nia giggling.

"Mikey was so freaked, he couldn't sleep. Then again, the fact that Leo 'n I would dress up as the villain didn't help. We let him spot us then disappeared in the shadows. An' told him it was all in his head."

"Poor Michelangelo. He must've been so frightened."

"He was! When April Fools came around, Mikey resorted ta his pranks for comfort. But Leo 'n I were gone. Donny joined our cause too, so we added a little drama by killin' him off."

"Yo—you faked his death?"

"Yup. An' at the big reveal we recorded Mike's girly scream, which Don edited inta a remix. It may still be on our DVD shelf."

Nia found herself laughing alongside Raphael. "T—that's so mean."

"Says the only child," Raphael retorted. "If ya had siblings, ya'd call it justice."

"I—I guess I'm at a disadvantage when it comes to understanding brothers 'n sisters. Or others in general."

"Ya understand Mikey, so I wouldn't say yer inept." Raphael flashed a smirk, cutting off his laughter with a click of his tongue.

Nia caught herself studying his bright eyes. Though focused ahead, she could've sworn she sensed jealousy behind them.

'Must be my imagination. But…now he's silent. Should I change the subject?'

"It's, um, your turn again, Mister Raphael."

"Just Raphael," the mutant corrected.

"S—sorry, Raphael."

"Don't apologize." The ninja cracked his neck then drew a hand to it, rubbing it. "I'm just—never mind. Why do ya dress like that?"

"Huh?" The artist glanced down. "I—Is something wrong?"

"Well, seein' as how April 'n ya disguised yerselves ta go shoppin', it's only been recently that we've seen yer…style. It's something. Especially wit' those tights."

Nia's gaze lingered on herself, not understanding what Raphael had meant. She'd dressed down, given current circumstances.

She stuck to a pair of dark-washed jean shorts, and refrained from excessive jewelry like plastic rings, thick bracelets, or studded belts. Her white 'NEW YORK' top was hardly strange, though it did hang off one shoulder from being a size too wide. Was it the pink fishnet she wore beneath it that warranted a 'something'? Certainly not; many women in New York wore fishnet.

Nia's eyes wandered from her blue Converse to her black and white tights. Tights were rather warm during the summer, but this pair was footless and thin. What was strange about them?

"I like tights," Nia said. "They made me feel…secure as a kid. Guess I never grew out of them."

"But ya gotta be roastin'. What series is that anyway?"

"S—Silver Sentry. The pictures are scans from his on-going series."

"What on-goin' series?" Raphael's eye ridges knit together. "I thought after he retired last year all his merchandise was supposed ta fade out. It's what he wanted. Least that's what he said last Christmas."

"Wait. You have Christmas with the Silver Sentry?"

"Sometimes. Why? Are ya a fan?"

Nia realized she begun bouncing with excitement only when Raphael sent an amused grin. She immediately drew back from the space she'd never meant to close between them and after a breath, collected herself.

"Y—Yes. I can't believe Michelangelo hasn't said anything. Sentry was my favorite hero when I was younger, next to Madam Vermillion." At Raphael's inquisitive stare, Nia continued. "S—she was a non-power hero in Italy from the early nineteen-seventies to nineteen-nineties. Her primary weapon was a braided whip, and...and she always sought the good in others, even villains."

"Wit' a whip?"

Nia chuckled lightly. "She had a strict discipline and morals, yet was all optimism on the inside."

"Sounds like a hero Mikey would like."

"Actually, h—he does. We've talked about her."

"Yet another thing ya'll got in common."

"E—excuse me?"

"Nothing. We've gotten off track. It's yer turn."

Nia offered the mutant a hesitant nod, although part of her longed to know why Raphael looked so defeated. "Why do you call Mister Leonardo 'Fearless'? Is it a nickname he earned?"

"Not exactly," the ninja answered. "Leo 'n I fought a lot as teens. He was chosen as head 'a our clan an' I—"

"Was jealous."

Raphael huffed. "I couldn't stand his self-righteousness or bein' bossed around. His attitude still bugs me, honestly, but at least it's gotten better. I started callin' him 'Fearless' ta mock him. It's a nickname now, though. He don't mind it anymore."

"Or maybe he's learned to pick his battles," Nia grumbled. She felt eyes boring into her, yet kept her attention adverted as Raphael continued.

"Either way, he don't say anything. What number was that?"

"Number?"

"Question."

"O—oh. Um…"

"If ya don't know, I say it's my go."

"Huh?"

"Why do ya call everyone Mister or Misses?"

"D—does it bother you?"

"Haven't we been tellin' ya ta stop?"

"S—sorry. It's something Daddy beat into me. By now it's second nature and changing's…difficult."

"I can understand parents wantin' courteous children, but ya take it ta the extreme."

"I said my father beat it into me, okay?"

"…Literally?"

"Wh—what? No! My father would never lay a hand on me like that." The artist sighed. "Daddy used to mingle with a lot of high-class associates. I attended parties and conventions when I was young. Manners are everything to people of that status. That's what he told me. So I always made sure to keep on my best behavior."

Raphael hummed.

"I—it's not as bad it sounds."

"It sounds pretty bad."

"Yeah, well…the manners made me feel like an adult. I liked that."

"Ta each their own. Yer turn."

"Oh…" Nia trailed off in thought.

She hadn't anticipated running out of questions. Well, not run out, per say. More like she had plenty to ask, and not enough decisiveness to pick one. She'd gone with simple, generic inquiries, but now that she had a chance, she gravitated towards a topic perhaps best left untouched.

"So," she started, "h—have you ever had a…crush?"

Raphael twitched, mumbled, and then scoffed. "Choose another question," he spat.

"I'd rather not." Nia spoke without thought or delay, yet kept a meek tone. "Remember: any question is fair game and you must answer truthfully. If you want to same in return."

The last part Nia whispered. Her eyes wandered to the waning moon before they found the mutant again. He sighed, unease riddling his muscular body. Still, when his gaze met hers, she knew he'd give in.

"Payback's a bitch, by the way," he said through gritted teeth. "My bros 'n I have had a crush on April at least once in our lives. She was the first girl we ever met. After her, I, uh…I liked another human friend, Angel."

"Pretty name," added Nia, though her remark went ignored.

"We started datin' two years ago. It didn't work out. An' not for the reason ya think."

The artist shrunk under Raphael scowl. "W—what reason is that?"

"Don't play dumb. Ya'd be lyin' if ya said the question hadn't crossed ya mind. How does a human and a mutant have a relationship?"

"I—I wasn't—"

Raphael cut her off. "For the record, we broke up for oddah reasons."

Nia pulled her legs up, hugging them. Raphael obviously felt offended by the topic, yet didn't change it. Did that mean he wanted to talk?

"Which reasons were those?" Nia asked. "Were you too different?"

"Too similar," the ninja corrected. "We were always arguin', even over the smallest things. An' since we're both super stubborn, neither 'a us caved."

"I've read stories where a challenging relationship like that has appeal for those involved."

"It had appeal. At first. An' makin' up after the arguments made everything worth it." Just soon as a smirk worked its way across Raphael's wide mouth, it faltered. "But then our fightin' became constant. We didn't even try ta fix things 'cuz we made 'em worse. Eventually, I got tired of it. We both did."

"Do you…do you still love her?" Nia's shoulder flinched under Raphael's glare.

"My turn for questions."

The artist could only sigh in submission.

"What about ya? Got any crushes?"

If Nia knew any better, she'd say Raphael's grin was more snide than interested. "I've had a few," she said stiffly. "I could never bring myself to pursue any feelings, though. I—it's not my nature. But Nick Nolan…He's probably the only one outside my family to know me. I don't think he realizes what that means."

"Who's Nick Nolan?"

"M—my tutor."

"Ya like him?"

"W—what kind of a question is that?"

"Told ya payback's a bitch. Now answer."

"Yeah, b—but…"

'Shin, Nia. If you want to be friends, be honest.'

The artist groaned, saying, "Maybe I do, ya know, like him."

"Cliché."

"Hey!" Nia bellowed before she could filter her words or temper her tone. "After all these years I've grown into a shadow, a recluse, so Nick's attention has been—been wonderful. What person doesn't want that? T—to feel acknowledged? To share things with? I bet Angel was the first woman to have a romantic interest in you, wasn't she?"

Bull's eye. Raphael's expression faltered then hardened like stone. He stood up in haste—abandoning both his seat and companion—then began walking away.

'Way to go, Nia.' The young woman slid off the ledge. 'This is why you keep quiet.'

Sighing, she tagged behind Raphael to the building's fire escape. She expected him to descend without a word or second glance, but he stopped short of doing just that.

"It's different for me," he said, low. "Ya use the shadows like a shield, while I am the shadows. When ya're like me, a mutant"—his large fists clenched—"chances for good things are rare. My bros n' I have come ta grips wit' the idea 'a only havin' eachoddah, that what we got now is as good as our lives will get. Be thankful ya got a chance for something more."

"R—Raphael, I—"

"Stop talkin'."

"But—"

Ring! Ring!

"I—Is that your phone?"

Raphael didn't answer Nia. He simply detached a cell phone shaped like a turtle shell from the leather pouch on his belt. He flipped it open then lifted it to his ear.

"What?" the ninja demanded. "No, I haven't. Why?" He paused then cursed. "Ya gotta be kiddin'! …Alright, we're on our way back." When he snapped his cell shut, he did so with unreasonable force. Again, he cursed, stomping the roof. "An' our Turtle Luck gets better 'n better!"

"W—what's wrong?" Nia took a step forward, yet froze at the worry etched in Raphael's expression. "Did something happen?"

"Yeah," he answered. "April's missin'."

A/N: This chapter is filled with so many things, you don't even realize...heh.