I own only my OCs.

Rin went back and forth in her mind not knowing why she struggled with this so much. She should just believe it a bad idea and stop thinking about it. However, it kept coming back to her mind. Her mind … It was like an overstuffed drawer filled with folders of images of victims, recordings of their last words, guilt. Perhaps, the idea of unloading some of it, making it a smoother slide to open and close, was too relieving to ignore.

Rin took to exhausting herself to stop thinking about it and sleep. Her day job involved running up and down fire escapes and across buildings, but apparently it was now not enough. She wasn't tired enough, yet.

Rin felt the rattle go through her frame as she landed on concrete. She took a moment to gather herself before running forward again, picking up momentum for the next jump. Concentrating on surviving doing so helped her not think about other things for a moment.

As she ran along the rooftops, she could feel a card press against cloth and her skin with some movements. Mrs. Winters had given her a card with a lot more info than the "Kraang's" had had. She still had no idea who those grey men who all looked alike had been. She didn't know if she wanted to. She had plenty of her own problems.

The card from Mrs. Winters had her potential "counselor's" work-number, office's address and room number, and his specific title at his workplace. She had everything she needed to find his help if she decided to. He'd be easily found by the Association too. She should throw the card away, but if they tortured and broke her, she'd memorized what was on it already.

Rin stopped running over rooftops. It wasn't enough. And she'd be more easily spotted and recognized by someone looking for her doing this.

She headed for a space she'd bought a week or so after arriving in New York. It was one of those rental units built like a big garage. She'd outfitted in like a dojo. Inside it was all she needed to vent.

She got there glad she'd never told Shredder of it. She'd just turned his electrical payments into cash and traded that around to get untraceable change through other transactions, until she had enough to rent and set up this place. Saki had paid her well. She did "not" feel guilty yet for not holding up her end of the bargain, however. She used the key to the padlock of the doors she'd carried around along with unmarked cash on her body throughout three different identities now. She kept the light inside the space dim.

She went for the punching bag first. She beat it like she had in the old days. Sensei's voice rang in her head. Great … She hadn't escaped her then.

"More power!"

Wham!

"More precision!"

"Boof!"

"You are an assassin now! My student! You will be the best!"

Sounded really great, didn't it? Being the best. Not so much, when you had to sacrifice so much to do it. More specifically, everything.

After getting warmed up, she went for the katana and the practice dummy. "Thwack, thwack, thwack!" Actually, she hadn't had much use for the obvious weapon on the job. She'd thought to use it on Yoshi that one time. Mostly though, Sensei had had her use it against her and fellow students at Association meetings. Association meetings turned into exhibition matches real quick. It made you appreciate the long boring talks that went on for 6 hours or more beforehand, once you were being thrown around by the best killers on the planet for 3 or more after.

She hacked away at the dummy, and then stopped for a breather. Who was she kidding? She had a lot on her memory she wanted to vent out to someone, and somehow, despite the fact he was going to avoid the rest of humanity forever, unloading it on Yoshi, father of four, seemed unkind in itself. It would be just as unkind to a professional counselor. She just wasn't going to do it.

What am I even alive for?

She froze a moment and then leaned up against the practice dummy she'd been carving up to think about that ... The turtle babies liked her, and, despite his great annoyance at taking help from her, she thought the very fact Yoshi didn't try to kill her every time she showed up meant he found her help valuable. Mrs. Winters seemed fond of her, why other than perhaps seeing herself in her she didn't know. Despite the woman's own story, she doubted she would feel like that upon knowing all of hers not that she'd tell her. The thought of Mrs. Winters or her husband in any of the Association member's hands made her wince, squirm, and want to vomit.

She supposed it served her right when Yoshi got defensive of his family, when she'd pointed out they had not been a part of a group or had a job description known for its nonviolence and honor. However, her point had been his fate in that department was set in stone the moment he was born despite his early desire to be an artist something in the brief her sensei had given her on him.

She could have decided to not go with the Fisher, obey her parents about staying away from her, but after she was sold had she had more choice or less about being an assassin than Yoshi had had about following his path? Yoshi's father might have applied pressure to his oldest son to follow him in his career choice, but despite his fearsome reputation, she had a hard time believing the old ninja leader would have used similar tactics on his son that her sensei had used on her. Not that she'd tell Yoshi that.

Feeling that brand of tired she knew would cause her mind to grind to a halt after a hard run home, and having some measure of peace upon finally making up her mind despite being sick about it, Rin decided to call it a night. Perhaps she would never come back to her little dojo in the rented space.

Get used to being Kadai …

To tell the truth, she disliked pretending to be a sulky teenager. She also hated being the "Rin" she saw reflected in Yoshi's, still human, eyes when he glared at her. She hated the squirmy feeling she had when Mrs. Winters called her "Hana" without knowing all she'd done as Not-Hana ... She hated a lot about herself actually …

Why am I alive again?

"Why indeed?"

She froze. She hadn't even realized she'd said that out loud. Man had she gotten bad at this. Apparently, she had screwed up elsewhere too.

She turned. In the light of a bulb atop a pole probably to ward off thieves from this rental-space complex, she saw a familiar face. She'd never despised it as much as some, but she definitely didn't like it as well as others.

Blond hair, blue eyes, in a tan face grinned at her. The grin almost looked friendly except for the coldness reflected in the eyes. She stared back into them steadily wondering how much he knew, and who was going down with her.

I guess I made the right decision after all ...

Her reply sounded more like a sigh than a whimper. She felt a tad pleased with herself about that. "Gordy …"

God Bless

ScribeofHeroes