Adventures of Bentley-san

Bentley was pretty sure that he was a dead turtle rolling. He'd been on his fair share of adventures, not always willing, since he'd met Sly Cooper. And while their enemies had been fierce, and he'd had more than his fair share of incidents, not the least of which cost him his legs and another his heart, he'd always thought that in the end, Sly and Murray would keep him from ever actually dying until he was a ripe old turtle, like the grandfather that had raised him before the orphanage.

But last night, Sly had gotten taken down by a member of his own clan in order to protect her young. One of which that was currently scampering up and down rice field dykes and trees like the raccoon he was, all because of Bentley's big mouth. And unlike Sly's weapon of choice, which was blunt and meant more for incapacitating an enemy, Karin's was a blade and she was the daughter of a samurai clan. If anything harmed even a head on Rioichi's head…

"I'm too young to die," Bentley moaned—or more accurately, panted, as he rolled his chair up a high dyke on the outskirts of the village that he'd just seen the raccoon kit scamper over. Not even the chair's motor was up for the steepness of the hill, and it was wearing him out. But the top was in sight. Just one more good push…

He reached the top with a sigh of pure relief, his head ducked down as he tried to recover. Time travel was murder on his asthma, and this sort of thing did not help. He pushed down on the switch of his chair to kick the motor back in and roll the rest of the way to the dams in piece. The motor was a soft, whirly hum.

And then his chair dipped, and the motor went from a hum to a roar.

Bentley jerked his head up and paled. The hill was even steeper on this side, and led straight down to the river. A swollen river that was not happy to be blocked by the rough-shod dam that Bentley could now see. "Oh no, no, NO!" He killed the motor with a flip of the switch and threw on the emergency break.

He'd already picked up momentum, though. The breaks squealed and he could smell smoke rising from them. Oh, this was bad. Bad, bad, bad, bad, BAD! And no one in sight to help him—

Wait, he didn't need help! He was a genius, a master inventor, the brain of the Cooper Clan! Bentley hit a few of the switches with confidence to change the chair over to hover mode, where he could skip over that river like a rock over a smooth pond.

The buttons clicked, but it was hollow and with no responses.

Bentley's eyes widened. He'd killed the motor. The motor that fed all the gadgets on his chair. Oh, what had he done? Frantically, he started pushing buttons to restart it, but he knew it was pointless. His mind was automatically doing the calculations and he was doomed, doomed—

"WEEEE!"

The happy squeal was soon followed by a solid thump to the back of Bentley's chair, sending it spinning down the slope. Bentley joined in, but his was a shriek of terror. They hit the end of the hill, and the river loomed. He covered his eyes, waiting for his life to pass before his eyes. There was a click behind him as something else was hit too.

The chair's power suddenly kicked on. Bentley's eyes opened and he gripped the arms. The hover function turned on too and slowed his descent. The chair evened out of the spin as they crossed over the river about a foot over the angry, silt filled water. It was the emergency mode, Bentley realized, meant to protect him should something like this happened as long as the power was on.

Sure enough, as soon as the chair detected solid, stable ground underneath itself, the hover mode turned off, and the wheels snapped back in to place.

Bentley could barely breathe, and belated realized it was his asthma responding to his panic. Reaching into his shell, he grabbed his inhaler and pulled it out. He gave it a rapid shake and quickly put it to his mouth for a couple puffs. His airway cleared, and the turtle collapsed in his chair with a moan. He was not meant for field work!

"Bentley-san, what that?" Rioichi piped up, and the kit scrambled over Bentley's shoulder. It had been the little scamp that hit the chair…and saved his life, but Bentley wasn't about to acknowledge that. Especially when the Cooper kit reached out and snagged the inhaler right from Bentley's hand before scrambling up a tree with it.

"Hey! Bring that back!" Bentley said, wheeling his chair up to the base of the tree.

Rioichi ignored him and copied the turtle, shaking the inhaler. "What's it do? What's it do?" he asked…just as he pressed down on the dispenser. A cloud of white powder exploded in his face. At least his eyes were closed! He stuck his tongue and then whined. "It tastes bad!"

"That's because it's medicine!" the turtle said, shaking his finger at the kit and feeling like a cranky uncle. He pulled out his big guns. "What would your mother say if she knew you had stolen medicine from somebody who needed it?"

That got the little kit's attention. He scrambled down the tree and held out the inhaler. "Gomen nasai, Bentley-san!" he said, quickly bowing over his outstretched arms. "Please, please don't tell Haha-ue!"

Grumbling, Bentley took his inhaler back and tucked it back into his shell. "Only if you promise to listen to me from now on," he said, keeping up his act of sounding more put out than he was. Oh who was he kidding? He was upset! Near-death experiences were not his forte. "Agreed?"

"Hai!" Rioichi chirped, and quickly raised himself to lean on the armrest of Bentley's chair. "So what next then, Bentley-san?"

Bentley hummed, thinking about what he needed next. While getting more information on the guards and the layout of the village was important, there was something almost more so he needed done. "Do you know where the headman visits with important people?" he asked, and he saw the kit's face brighten at the idea of causing such an important grown-up some mischief. Gotta love the Cooper streak for trouble.

"Did it work, Bentley-san?" Rioichi dropped off of the roof of the headman's house and directly into Bentley's lap.

"We'll see in a second," Bentley said, tapping on his holoscreen to get the video screen up and running. "Any trouble getting in?"

"Not for the ninja master!" Rioichi puffed his little chest out, his tail swishing and tickling Bentley's nose.

Sneezing, the turtle patted the kit on the head. "Good, good." His attention wasn't on the kit in his lap, though, but on the screen as the camera came into focus. The headman was another capricornis crispus, or Japanese serow, dressed in modest clothing that befitted his status as a small, but important, village headman.

His new guest was another story. The dark navy of his haori, and the slate gray of his formal style hakama and…shoulder thingies… could not have been cheap, and the cloth was fine quality too. The dark, muted colors made the bright orange-red and white of his fur stand out, while making the black of his paws almost disappear. An ailurus fulgens. A sword hung by his side, and his eyes were narrowed in disdain.

"Coopergiwa is doing your village a great disservice, causing such trouble," the red panda said. "Even with your hired guards in place…" He tutted, trying to sound sympathetic but just sounding condescending.

"And it was quite gracious of you to pay for such guards, Minamoto-sama," the headman said with a quick ducking of his head. "We are such a minor holding, not even in your lands or that of your neighbor's really. It is more than we could ever hope to repay."

"Nonsense," the panda said, shaking his head. "The Coopergiwa clan is a samurai clan, meaning that any of their troublemakers are the lords' responsibility to handle. You will let me know if she becomes more of a nuisance." It wasn't a suggestion.

"Of course, Minamoto-sama," the serow agreed. "But we cannot afford to feed more guards—"

"I don't intend to give you more men," Minomoto sneered. "I intend to capture the raccoon sow and take her off of your hands. Be sure to spread the word, so that if she causes anymore trouble, you may inform me at once."

"Yes, my lord." The serow bowed low, though there was a tinge of reluctance in his tone.

Bentley reached up and turned off the screen. In his lap, Rioichi was dead silent…and completely still. "I would bet my last motherboard that he is the one really behind all the sabotaging of the villagers' things," the turtle muttered.

"Haha-ue is in trouble, isn't she, Bentley-san?" Rioichi asked.

Bentley didn't see the point in lying, and nodded his head.

"Then we have to help her!" the kit insisted.

"We will," Bentley assured him. "We just need to finish taking these pictures so I can make up a plan."

"Then let's hurry!" Rioichi's tone was as grim as a young kit's could be.

Before Bentley realized what was happening, he had an empty lap and was being pushed rapidly along in the direction of the next target. "Whoa!" he shouted in protest…to deaf ears. "RIOICHI! WATCH OUT!"

CRASH!

Karin swept Kaya's legs out from underneath her, then used the momentum to spin around and send Kiyo tumbling too. Both girls whined from their sprawls on the floor, naginata clattering to the ground. Straightening up, Karin shook her head and leaned on her own glaive. "Tired already?" she asked.

"Iie, Haha," the two girls chimed, but they didn't rise up from their positions on the ground.

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at the mother's lips. She was proud of her girls, she was. But one parent had to be the bully to make sure that all the kits got the training they needed, and that had to be her. "One more, and then we can stop," she promised.

"Hai, Haha," the girls said. They stayed still, but before Karin had to go over and nudge them, they were rising to their feet on their own, picking up their glaives. They weren't as tired as they thought they were, Karin could tell. Their feet and hands were steady. She hadn't pushed them too hard.

She braced herself, swinging her own naginata in front of her defensively. The girls rushed her with high-pitched war cries that sounded more like baby birds screaming for food to Karin, making her snort in laughter before she could help it. She side stepped out of their way and prepared for their usual double-teaming tactics.

"HAHA-UE!"

A little bundle of trouble came running into the dojo, heedless of the fact that there were weapons in use. Karin pressed her lips into a thin line. The girls didn't have the control to stop themselves, so she broke the half-lie she had been keeping up during their training about their mother's skill. With a quick sweep, she had them disarmed and sprawling with little effort. As for her son… Karin reached into the folds of her haori and pulled out her shukusen, the heavy fan made of steel with yellow silk stretched over the ribs that were sharpened at the edges.

Keeping it folded and thus relatively harmless, she whacked her son over the head with it.

He dropped with a wail.

Karin crossed her arms, completely unrepentant, and raised one brow. He clutched at his head and sniffled, but Karin wasn't swayed. "You know better than to come running into the dojo like that!" she scolded. "And stop crying, I doubt you are even bruised." She knew her own strength and weight of her weapon better than that. The whack would hopefully teach him a lesson that he ought to know by now…and help her heart settle from its place lodged in her throat. Her weapon had an edge to it, which was terrifying enough. And even if the girls' didn't, they were proper staffs with heavy metal on one end that could cause him harm before anyone was the wiser if he just came tearing in here!

Rioichi sniffed and rubbed his eyes, but he didn't argue with her, just rubbing his stinging head. "And after I rescued you today from the mean daimyo," he sulked, glaring at the floor.

"Rescued? What daimyo?" Karin asked, shocked out of her well-deserved crankiness.

"Bentley- san called him a… a fungus…" Rioichi stopped his sniffling and looked up at her. "I think he meant he was a red cat-bear, but he was just showing off how smart he was." Her little boy wrinkled his nose. "Like Kaya does."

"I do not!"

"Do too!" he rebutted.

Karin cut the bickering off by reaching down and pinching Rioichi's ear. He yelped and tilted his head to try and ease the pain. "Red cat-bear?" she said softly, her mind turning. "What was his name, Rioichi?"

He stopped his whimpering, hearing from her tone of voice that she was in no mood for games or fussing over him or his sisters. "Minamoto-sama," he said. "That's what the headman called him after I planted the insect that is not an insect in his office like Bentley-san asked."

Her mind whirled and she let go of Rioichi's ear unconsciously. Ken. It had to be Ken, there was no one… And her son almost crossed paths with him. Karin saw red. "Bentley!" she shouted, making all three of her kits jump in surprise and exchange terrified looks. Things were never good when their mother got that tone to her voice.

Sly became aware of the world around him in degrees, rather than his usual abrupt lurch to consciousness. He was warm, with a weight over him that signaled a blanket, something he didn't usually bother with. But he was glad for it, since the rough mats underneath him were chilly to put it mildly. The cushion his head sat on wasn't that soft—in fact, it was kinda weirdly lumpy—but it was also warm, and the texture wasn't too bad.

Gentle fingers were rubbing through his hair in a manner that made his bones feel like they were melting. And someone, someone female, was humming a melody before it turned into whispery song. "See the father bent in grief. The mother dressed in mourning. Sister crumbles, and the neighbors grumble. The preacher issues warnings."

Her tone was so sad… He wanted to hug whoever it was and tuck her under his chin. And that startled him awake enough to actually listen to the next bit of lyrics and remember exactly who had to be the one singing to him.

"History… Little miss didn't do right went and ruined all the true plans. Such a shame. Such a sin…"

Sly cracked an eye open and met Lady's blank porcelain mask. "Something you wanna talk about there, Lady?" he asked before a jaw-splitting yawn overtook his mouth.

"Oh!" she huffed, and the hands in his hair stopped along with the singing.

The next thing he knew, his pillow was no longer underneath him. Yelping, he managed to catch himself on his elbows before he conked his head and knocked himself out again. He couldn't help but laugh at her reaction, resting his head on the floor anyway. "Show tunes? Seriously?"

"It's what Mama used to sing to us," she protested.

He laughed all the louder.

"See if I let you sleep in my lap again," the female raccoon grumbled.

Sly's eyes popped open and his laughter died. He sat up and stared at her in slack-jawed disbelief. She'd let him sleep in her lap? All night? But… But she didn't like him, not even as a friend! She wasn't lying, though, and he didn't need to see her face to know that. Her body moved stiffly around the room as she piled up the bedding that was scattered everywhere, and she had some sort of padded, silk robe over her shoulders that had to have been to keep her warm.

"You didn't have to do that…" he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Lady paused in her current fold to snort at him. "You were about to fall asleep sittin' up, sugah," she drawled. "Yes, I did."

Sly grumbled. "I was not going to fall asleep…" but he knew it was a losing argument. He found his hat lying nearby and stuck it on his head, not even bothering with trying to fix his hair. It was just going to be a mess anyway. "How long was I out, anyway?" he asked, changing the subject.

She shrugged. "It was Pig last time they brought me tea, and they haven' been back in here since."

"It was what?" he said, wondering if he was still asleep.

He could tell she was smiling, even if he couldn't see it, he knew it. "Feudal Japan kept a temporal clock with twelve hours named after the zodiac," she said. "Pig is roughly around ten in the evenin'. So it's about lunch time by thievin' hours, somewhere around eleven in the evenin' for normal folk."

"How do you know all this?" he asked, flabbergasted.

She fiddled with the sleeves of her borrowed robe. "I was an unruly little urchin of a child," she said. "But as I said, my teacher had a friend who was a real lady. A geisha. And I was fascinated by someone else havin' a white face like mine, even if it was make-up, and asked her about bein' a geisha and it just…"

"Snowballed," Sly finished for her. "Well, I guess I shouldn't complain—"

He was cut off by the shoji door sliding open with a clatter and Bentley wheeling into the room. But the turtle had seen better days. His glasses were askew, his face blank from shock and exhaustion, and were those twigs with leaves stuck on his vest?

Lady snorted, and then clapped her hand over her mask's mouth like it would help muffle it. Sly swallowed thickly to keep his own laughter down. "What happened to you, buddy?"

Murray came following after, carrying a tray loaded with tea things and a plate full of rice balls. He was making no attempts to stop the wide smile on his face. "He had to take his own photos," he told Sly gleefully. "Glad to see you awake, Sly! Just in time for lunch, or brunch I guess… Karin-san taught me how to make onigiri!"

"Oh?" Sly said, reaching out to grab a rice ball. It actually looked good, angular and everything with the bit of seaweed at the end. "About Bentley, not the rice." The hippo's face fell, and Sly quickly recovered. "Though they look good, Murray." He took a big bite and was surprised that he actually meant it. They were good, and he didn't even like rice. Was that salted salmon in the middle?

Murray beamed at him, and set the tray down on the table with a surprisingly graceful flourish. "Thank you! And yes, yes he did." The hippo didn't bother hiding his amusement. "He had some help."

"…Oh?" Sly ran through the possibilities in his head. Karin had obviously been here all day, and he hadn't been woken up for hours. He snickered. "Oh. I came by my hyper activeness as a kit honestly, I take it?"

Bentley moaned and hid his face in his hands.

Sly coughed and took another big bite out of his rice. And then his brain finished waking up and his earlier thoughts circled. He'd slept for hours. When he hadn't been sleeping for more than two at a stretch for weeks. And he knew he hadn't been that tired, and that moon before he fell asleep…

A clatter of china came as Lady started pouring tea into mugs, her sleeves swept back to her elbows in a way that was like she had said before. Elegant and graceful.

That didn't stop Sly from connecting the dots. "Did you drug me?" he demanded of her.

She jerked the pot up in mid-pour, leaving the cup half empty as she stared at him. Even her tail froze. They stared off, or as best they could when her eyes were hidden by black netting.

It was broken by what could only be a war cry echoing through the compound. Sly gaped at his gang's genius as he recognized the voice—Karin—and the name she was shouting.

"Bentley!"

"What did you do?" Sly hissed, and scrambled for his cane. Oh, this was not good. Could this have waited until he had gotten to eat more than half a rice ball?

gomen nasai—Japanese, I'm very sorry
-sama—Japanese, title that is meant to signify high respect (unisex)
iie—Japanese, no
naginata—Japanese, a type of glaive, one that was well known to be used by noblewomen
shukusen—Japanese, a war fan
daimyo—Japanese, a warlord, they ruled over a very specific area and were serviced by samurai families. Whether or not the daimyo answered to the emperor depends on what period of history it is