LEO

"Ease up, bro. She's gonna do great."

Leo flinched as Mikey clapped him on the shell, not content to leave encouragement strictly to words.

He looked over at his brother, all shiny eyes and big smiles, and frowned at the tournament site around them. "It's not her I'm worried about. This place is not about sportsmanship."

Mikey rolled his eyes. "You're as bad as Master Splinter the first time we went topside. She's not just a competitor, she's a ninja yo. She's got this."

"He was right about the public restrooms. Gross." Leo replied, crossing his arms.

Mikey cocked his head thoughtfully. "The girl's ones aren't so bad."

Leo arched up an eye ridge. "Do I even want to know?"

Mikey shrugged. "Just a little mix up when Alli-bird was small fries. Turns out, when you're taking your kid to the bathroom, you go to the one you're supposed to go in, not the one they're supposed to go in. Who knew?"

Leo just shook his head and sighed, trying to focus on evaluating the other entrants, when Mikey distracted him by waving to a part of the stands far off from their seats. He scanned the area and groaned internally when he saw Grey McCoy in a 'Go Scout' t-shirt, holding up a giant, #1 foam hand. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I know, right? That's the closest I could get him with a last-minute seating request. This place is crazy full." Mikey concurred.

"That's not..." Leo started before giving up. "What is he doing here? Doesn't Scout hate him?"

"Naw," Mikey replied, blowing a raspberry, "they're totes besties now. He's actually kinda cool once you get to know him."

"Now that their friends and nothing more?" Leo asked pointedly.

Mikey grinned. "Yup. Isn't that the best part?"

Leo just shook his head, before pausing and casting a sidelong glance at Mikey. "You're wearing one of those t-shirts under your coach jacket, aren't you?"

"Ab-SO-lutely." Mikey grinned broadly. "I had some made up for everyone. Do you want yours? Should I pass them out?"

Leo rubbed the bridge of his beak, willing back a headache. "Don't you think that'll be a little distracting?"

"So, we save 'em for congratulations at the end. Got it." Mikey saluted cheerfully.

Leo buried his face in his palm. When was this thing going to start?

SCOUT

Scout left her dad and Uncle Leo to sign her in, while she located the women's locker room. As she passed through, searching for an empty dressing booth, she noticed there were only a handful of female competitors. Odd. Maybe? She couldn't be sure, it'd been years since her last comp and that was on a junior level.

Finding an empty booth, she unzipped her bag and pulled out her gi. Images filled her head from that day in rehab, when she'd been so afraid to face the future, of what it might hold. Of who she was and who she would become. When her dad had offered it to her, he was reminding her of where she began and who she could be.

She lifted the garment, slipped into it, tying each fold with care. Then her belt. Gifted to her when she was three, the fabric was worn so thin it was almost completely white. Her dad used to have to wrap it around her waist nearly three and a half times. Not anymore. She tied it with a sharp jerk.

Her hair tumbled into her eyes as she returned to her bag. Smiling, she reached for her hairbrush and two ponytail holders. She parted her bright red locks, tying them in two cute knots, one on either side of her head. A throwback to when she competed as a little girl. Triple checking her chucks were in her duffel, and satisfied they wouldn't disappear, she stepped into the common area, glancing over the other competitors.

All of them were bigger than her, and a menagerie of weight classes, but that didn't matter here. It was a tournament of skill. At this level she would be up against whoever won their round. Male. Female. Tall. Massive. Mutant. Hybrid. Human. She quickly concluded that she was the youngest competitor there. Not only did everyone appear to be an adult, but if she was honest with herself no other parent in his right mind would sign a waiver for a child to compete among adults outside her weight class. And no honorable Sensei would permit that of their pupil. She wanted to laugh. But, in an effort to be humble, she pressed her lips flat, intermittently offering a friendly smile to anyone who made eye contact. Most seemed surprised or suspicious of the teen dressed to participate in the competition.

She moved into the organized chaos of spectators and competitors, searching for her dad and uncle. It seemed there weren't many mutants there which made them easy to find. As if sensing her, they both looked up from the waiting area, beckoning her over. Then they looked at each other, her dad beaming as she read his lips. "I'm her Sensei, remember?"

Uncle Leo stared at him. But her dad's mood would not be swayed. He bounced on his toes, eyes as bright as his smile.

"There aren't many mutants here." Scout signed as she approached them, dropping her bag on the bench.

Both her dad and uncle chuckled, although Scout couldn't understand why. She almost preferred fighting a mutant opponent. They were stronger, faster, a true challenge. Then her uncle signed. "Well you represent our dojo. Maybe after you finish up here, we'll attract more to the sport. Remember most mutants and hybrids are at poverty level."

Scout frowned as her fingers moved. "But you have programs for them."

Uncle Leo smiled. "And we have you to help get the word out."

Nodding, she reached in her duffel for her wrap. Her uncle took it from her and began wrapping her hands. With him holding them, she couldn't sign to tell him she could do it herself and looked to her dad for help.

His lips formed the words, "Let him think he's helping." But Scout suspected he didn't say them out loud because Uncle Leo's serious expression didn't change. Not that it would, even if her dad was talking smack.

Then she noticed Uncle Leo's lips were moving, but too late to know what he was saying. Her dad snapped to attention and began signing that he was translating for him.

"Although it is a full contact competition, some rules do apply here. Although they are pretty simple. Don't break your opponent's bones and don't kill them." He paused, then added. "Even pressure point attacks are allowed. You can win by knock out, opponent submission, or getting them out of bounds. But, Scout, please keep your temper in check. You can be hurt here the same as anyone else. And remember you represent our family and our dojo. Hamato's fight with honor." Her dad rolled his eyes twice, then realized Uncle Leo was finished with her wrap and watching him. He flashed a sheepish grin and Uncle Leo shook his head.

Someone holding a clipboard approached them, giving Scout the side-eye as he walked by, saying something to both her dad and uncle. Her dad started signing as soon as he realized Scout couldn't see his lips and the guy was completely ignoring her.

"I'm the competition manager. I was just handed the paperwork for your entrant. There must be a mistake. She is only fifteen. We don't have another competitor here under twenty-two. There are no weight classes in this tournament and it is full contact. Men and women fight each other. There's no way you meant to bring a kid here. And this form says she's a literal ninja. At fifteen. Is this a joke?"

As her dad signed all of the man's comments and questions, Scout began to wonder if they were going to let her in. But Uncle Leo said he'd pre-registered her… What's more, her dad signed indicating he was talking now, telling the man, "I don't joke about my Cubs, and I joke about just about everything."

Scout snickered and was just about to speak for herself when her Uncle Leo, remembering to sign for once, said, "I called ahead and obtained approval. Both her father, who is also her Sensei, and myself the owner of the dojo, have signed waivers. We didn't hide her age. As a matter of fact, there is no age requirement in your rules. They merely state that she must be a qualified competitor.

Her dad was signing for the angry dude again. "You're saying she's qualified to fight a two-hundred and fifty-pound bull dog mutant?"

Uncle Leo nodded, his expression serious. "I am saying that. Yes."

Her dad grinned.

Angry dude finally looked at her, while talking to her uncle and her dad. "Prove it."

Scout looked to her dad.

"No prob." He signed. "What do you want to see?"

The man sneered. "Weapons kata. If I see legit skill, she can fight the dog and I'll let her in." His head tipped to the side as he looked her over. "Why'd you bring a kid here in the first place?"

Her Uncle Leo couldn't help smiling. "Because, she's either above the level of anyone her age, or they won't let her compete because she's both a hybrid and a girl."

The man sucked his teeth and nodded then finally spoke to her. "All right then. Let's see it, Kid."

Her dad sidled up, maneuvering himself in front of the guy. "Remember, you show your skill level when your chucks are still spinning while performing tricks, and don't be afraid to show them your power through rotations of both your shoulders and hips. You got this, Cubs."

He looked up, as though the ceiling were talking, then began signing the announcement that there would be a weapons kata demonstration. Then that they'd called her name.

He reached in her bag, handing her chucks over with a sparkle in his eyes. That was what she'd worked so hard for. To make him proud. Even though she knew she'd done that already, by simply continuing to breathe.

She bowed to him. Then stepped onto the floor, bowed again in respect of what would serve as her dojo. She watched her dad approach her gathered judges. They nodded as she read his lips that she'd be signing her introduction, and he would translate. Then her dad signed for her to approach them.

Placing her weapons at her feet she addressed the judges formally in her own language. "Hamato Dojo. I am Scout. May I begin?"

Her dad signed they'd given permission. She signed her thanks, bowed, then took the floor.

Lead with a double spin of her chucks, double toss, aerial, double thumb roll, hand roll, cross over, release, spin and catch. Scout slipped into a rhythm, leaving behind spectator, judge, dojo and the world outside. The past year, a nightmare. Perfect form. Lost a friend. Weapons moving. She'd taken down actual baddies. Tricks on point. But she was still here. Difficulty. Game. Ready to fight. Battle cry. Fierce. Final tumbling pass. Nailed it. New York Open Mixed Martial Arts Tournament Competitor. Hamato Scout. In.

Her dad was laughing as she handed him her chucks. Even Uncle Leo hard pressed to fight his smirk as they both looked at the judges. Angry judge-dude pointed to a six-odd foot bull dog mutant built like a combination of Uncle Arcos and Uncle Raph.

The judge motioned him to the floor, then said something to her dad. He signed for her to take a corner and bow in. Then, still grinning, signed, "The judge wants to know if you're sure you want to do this?" Then he winked at her. "Get him, Cubs."

Scout squared her shoulders, caught her Uncle Leo signing, "Do not kill him." He hesitated then added. "Maybe make it look a little hard?"

She tried to keep a straight face. Bowed to the judges, the referee, then turned to face her competitor and bowed again. The silver-furred mutant was drooling, and Scout had to school her nose not to wrinkle, but she suspected her expression was still tight. His mouth was moving. "Gonna fuck you up, Kid. They're gonna haveta scrape you off the mat fer wastin' my time."

She quit reading his lips. Smack talk. Wasted energy.

As soon as the referee gave the 'go' signal the bulldog swiped at her face. She ducked, spun and flowed into a combination, uppercut to the jaw, foot to the chest, with her other foot following, she flipped off him, landed on her feet before springing up in the air again, right foot flying toward the mutant's shoulder.

He snatched her ankle, yanking her toward him with his left paw while driving his right into her chest. She went sprawling back head over feet, already commanding her body to move, despite lack of breath. Her instincts wanted her to panic, lungs deflated. But her mind was in control. The dog was barreling toward her as she tried to collect herself, still on all fours with his foot flying at her face. She waited until the last second, swung her legs around, snaking them up his, with a twist of her hips she propelled him further forward, flying out of bounds.

The referee motioned to her, declaring, "Winner."

He pointed her back to her corner. She glanced at her dad and uncle, both seemingly pleased. Her dad signed, asking if her ribs were okay. She shrugged. Tender, but she'd had worse. Her next opponent, a human man of equal size to the bulldog mutant licked his chops and winked at her.

Scout's eyes flickered to her dad and uncle. Both shaking their heads, "No."

She inhaled deep, filling her lungs, exhaling slow as she bowed in. For whatever reason, men did not like fighting a little girl. They never waited to attack. This one came at her with a roundhouse, double punch combination that she narrowly evaded. Speed and blocking alone saved her as he launched one combination after another. Gees this guy was wasting a lot of energy. She leapt, ducked, and searched for opportunity. Then, as his foot flew toward her shoulder and she spun to evade it. As she rotated back around she was shocked when both his hands struck either side of her head.

While everything briefly went double, she wondered why he'd attacked her eardrums. But then he couldn't know she really didn't have any. She felt the blood trickling down her neck, saw flickers of green and judges standing. But her feet and hands were already moving. Uncle Leo said no broken bones. And not to kill anyone. Lightning fast she punched, he blocked, she countered, he blocked, faster, punch, block, punch, block, swipe and strike to the inside of the arm. It fell to his side. His eyes went wide, still punching he attempted to one-hand block. While distracting him with her punches, Scout lifted a foot and swiped the outside of his leg. His eyes shot toward the limb. It hadn't been enough to take it out but should've stunned him pretty good.

As he backed off she took a jab, stepping in she followed through with a cross punch, flowing into a back kick to his chest. He stumbled back, his face growing a sick shade of beet red. He was on her again, swinging one fist, his arm still limp. She ducked, weaved and blocked then feigned a left punch, the second he blocked, she delivered a right hook to his jaw that sent blood and teeth flying. Uh oh. That was definitely broken. The man staggered, his eyes rolling back in his head. No. No. No! Why wasn't he wearing a mouth guard? Where was his mouth guard?

Her eyebrows shot together as she looked to her dad, finding him a rare shade of furious green. Her uncle beckoned her over. She cringed. Were they mad? How was she supposed to know he wasn't wearing a mouth guard? She motioned to her mouth signing to her dad and uncle as she approached them.

Not seeming to care about the dude who'd failed to protect his mouth, her dad grabbed the sides of her face, turning her head this way and that. His lips were moving so fast she couldn't read them beyond what she thought might be a curse word and, "Are you okay?"

Uncle Leo handed him a towel, which her dad pressed to one of her ears. Then Leo signed that he had to go talk to the officials. Her dad didn't seem to hear him, his lips still moving, incoherent to her. Uncle Donnie and Grandmere appeared among the crowd of spectators. Someone official was trying to detain them, but it took only a few words from Grandmere before she and her uncle were allowed through.

"I'm fine, Dad." Scout attempted to tell him, unable to sign because his hands were still gripping her face. "I'm fine."

He was still rambling, not hearing her, his eyes somewhere between worried and angry.

"Are you mad?" she tried to ask him, but he wouldn't shut up. "Dad!" she tried. What was he saying? "Dad!" she yelled.

His mouth snapped shut, his eyes locking on hers.

"Are you mad at me?" she signed. "I didn't know! I'm sorry!"

Before he could answer, Grandmere basically pushed him aside as she and Uncle Donnie began turning her head this way and that. When Uncle Donnie's fingers and Grandmere's began bumping, Grandmere glared at Uncle Donnie who withdrew them immediately, straightening and stepping back.

"I'm fine, Grandmere." Scout promised in her distorted English. She looked around, spying both Uncle Donnie and Uncle Leo talking to officials. "Where's my dad?"