Chapter 24

We have to spend the night outside because I don't want to take a chance on renting a room – all the hotels around town are owned by Cobra and between the possibility that he'll believe Destro about me and the fact he can't be seen letting Billy and I get away, I have to assume the Commander will be trying to have us captured.

We walk in the woods and fields bordering the highway into New York until I'm satisfied we're far enough from Springfield to let the kid sleep. He doesn't even protest or notice that I'm only taking out one sleeping bag; he falls asleep the second he's lying down.

I sit next to him and ponder my next move again. I don't want to go too far away: with the Joes being based in New York and Springfield being right next door, it wouldn't make sense for me to go anywhere else. Despite Destro's certainty that I've finally lost my mind, I have no intention of letting the Joes topple Cobra – I will stay close so I can interfere if needed and confront the Joes if the opportunity arises.

There is an abandoned water tower I know of, that I used a few times when I was out of the base and wanted to be alone for a couple of hours. Nobody in Cobra or GI Joe knows about it, although Snake Eyes might be able to track me there if he really tries: we've had encounters in the neighbourhood a few times.

As for the boy… the best way to ensure he gets back into his father's good graces is to make him useful, so I'll teach him. I smirk at myself – making him useful is a convenient excuse, but the fact is that I'm downright excited at the thought of having a student. Zartan may have been right when he told me I used to be a teacher after all. It would be a first for him to be right about anything connected to me, but stranger things have happened.

Billy wakes up by himself shortly after the sun rises. He looks at me and at our surroundings blearily, scratches his head, sighs and locks eyes with me again.

"What now?" he says. "Why'd you break me out? What good am I to you? You want to make me talk, don't you? You want me to tell you who set me up to kill the Commander. You figure I will because you saved me. Forget it. For all I know, the Commander TOLD you to break me out."

"I don't need you to tell me who set you up: the Baroness could barely contain herself the past few days. The only strange part is that Destro was obviously not in on it. The Commander was trying to give you a way out – he was offering you mercy in exchange for a piece of information he already had."

The blood drains from his face when I mention the Baroness, but he rolls his eyes at the idea of the Commander showing mercy.

"You believe Cobra is a terrorist organization bent on world domination and the Commander is evil incarnate, don't you?"

He blinks at me, temporarily rendered speechless by the question. I know better than to think I can convince him of the truth before I actually earn his trust, so I wave the matter off and move on to the next topic.

"It doesn't matter for now. I broke you out to save you and to spare the Commander from having to execute his own son." He opens his mouth to protest but I cut him off. "I know you don't think it would have bothered him. I do. Let's leave it at that for now, shall we? We're going to hide for a while, and I will train you."

"Train me? Why?"

I hesitate a moment. I can't very well admit that I want him to become good enough to be able to do something grandiose that will give the Commander an excuse to forgive him while he still believes Cobra to be an evil organization: he'd just refuse to train.

"Because I think you have potential and if we're going to be hiding together, we may as well be doing something constructive."

He thinks for a while, looking around at the empty land surrounding us and glancing at me and at my backpack. It's rather transparent that he's trying to assess whether he's better off with or without me.

"You… won't hand me back to Cobra, will you?"

"I won't allow you to be executed."

"Why? What's in it for you? I mean… no offence, but you're a ninja and you work for Cobra… I'm not picturing you as the selfless hero type."

I snort.

"I'm not. Cobra is helping me avenge my family, who were slaughtered by GI Joe. I'm helping you because…"

I stop, suddenly realizing that he has a point: helping him is not advancing my objectives at all. At the same time, I don't regret the decision - I can't sit back and let the Commander have to kill his own son: I'm not that cruel, nor that selfish.

"I know how much it hurts to lose one's family," I finish.

"GI Joe? But... they're that army unit that fights Cobra, aren't they?"

I nod.

"It's really more the other way around, but yes. The Order sent them to capture me and they murdered the rest of my family. Cobra rescued me afterward, but not before the Order was able to wipe most of my memories clear. I don't even remember the people I've lost."

He swallows.

"I… I'm sorry," he says. "That'd… I mean, that's horrible. The Order… is that like the global government? The thing the big world leaders are all in, that's behind all the bad stuff in the world? Like, err, famine and poverty and AIDS?"

I nod and can't hold back a sigh of relief. I expected him to scoff at the idea, but he actually knows of the Order; maybe it won't be so hard to convince him of the truth about Cobra after all.

I rummage into my bag for our breakfast: an apple and a cereal bar each, and a couple of bottles of milk wrapped in icepacks.

"Eat up. We still need to walk to New York; you'll need some energy."

His jaw drops, but he starts eating without another word, until he gets to the milk.

"Is that Soy Milk?" he asks. He distinctly sounds as though he's just trying to break the silence. The inquiry is made all the more suspicious by the fact the bottles are clearly labelled 'Milk' and are adorned with pictures of cows. Purely for the sake of not making him more uncomfortable than he already is, I opt to act as though the question is legitimate.

"No, just plain old cow milk," I reply. "Why? Are you lactose intolerant?"

"No. I just thought you might be. You're Japanese, right?"

I smirk and fish out my medication. "Mostly, but the cafeteria can't be bothered to cater to me. It's much easier for Cobra to simply provide me with this. Thankfully, they were able to figure out I needed it before I got sick."

Once I'm done with breakfast, I start taking off my uniform to change into more anonymous clothes. In hindsight, I shouldn't have worn it in the first place, but even now, I can't bring myself to get rid of it and I stuff it into my backpack instead, also expanding said backpack to accommodate my weapons.

The second I start undressing, Billy jumps to his feet and backs off a few steps. I sigh and finish dressing and packing before I turn to him, scowling. He's still standing, but he's now looking more embarrassed than scared. I cross my arms and glare at him.

"I don't know what's more insulting: the idea that I'd assault my own student, that I'd assault a child, that I'd assault anybody at all, or that I'd be stupid enough to start by undressing, slowly, to do so."

"S…Sorry. I didn't run! I was just… sorry," he mumbles, turning beet red.

Just because I heard that doesn't make it any more of a proper apology, and beyond being insulting, his lack of trust could quickly become a problem in our position. I only hesitate a moment before deciding to demand more from him.

"Speak up, and to remind you that you have nothing to fear from me, you will address me as Sensei."

He swallows, and to his credit, looks me straight in the eyes.

"I'm sorry, Sensei," he says at normal volume.

I uncross my arms and stop scowling.

"Apology accepted. Do you know what the term Sensei means?"

He smirks.

"Everyone knows that. It means 'teacher'."

I snort and start walking, motioning him to do the same. He follows dutifully.

"Doesn't it?" he asks.

"For a ninja, it's a stronger word than that. By taking you on as my apprentice, I have effectively vowed to do my best to teach you all I can and to protect you with my life. Granted, it's usually assumed that won't be necessary, but in time of war, it becomes significant. No sensei would let rival ninjas kill their students. If you called me your teacher, you would make no distinction between me and a school teacher with hundreds of students, who sees you a few hours a week and barely knows your name."

He stops walking. I turn around and look at him questioningly.

"That's kind of intense, considering we've just met," he remarks.

"We hardly have the luxury to spend months getting acquainted, and besides, the relationship can always be terminated if a student turns out to be unworthy."

"Oh, I get it. So that vow you were just talking about is only valid until I piss you off."

I try to scowl, but I can't quite manage it: it's all I can do not to start laughing at how silly he makes it sound.

"I'd have to be VERY pissed," I say. "Typically, I'd only give up on you if you betrayed me or the clan. Come on, we can walk and talk at the same time. It's already going to take us most of the day to get where we're going. Ask as many questions as you want – you'll spend more energy that way and you'll learn more, too."

He certainly takes the instruction to ask a lot of questions to heart. By the time we climb in the empty water tower, he knows as much about me as I do – not that that's saying much – and he's starting to get a grasp of some basic practical ninja knowledge.

I drop my backpack to dig through it again, until I find the wad of money I took. I stuff a few thousand dollars worth in my pockets, bury the rest back in the backpack, and turn to Billy, who's sat down and taken his shoes off.

"We need to go shopping. How are your legs?"

"What legs?" he complains. "I can't believe we walked all the way here…"

I smile.

"You did well; we made good time. Now put your shoes back on, get up and take this backpack."

The face he makes is priceless.

I only have time to get my gear before I hear my brother slouching in my direction. The Hard Master really must have been tough on him.

I turn towards him and motion him forward, more to let him know I don't mind his presence than anything else: he was already coming this way anyway.

"Have you ever done endurance training with your uncle for a whole day?" he asks, sitting down heavily with his back against the wall where the paper targets are hung.

"He was never my main teacher," I reply. "I think the worst I've been through was the early Ear That Sees training."

"Storm… err, Sensei?" I hear Billy ask.

I shake my head and focus my eyes back on him, clenching my teeth. I was really hoping to be free of implanted memories for more than a single day.

"I'm sorry. Just one of those false memories I've told you about. Come on, get moving. I did say 'now', not 'at your earliest convenience'."

"But…"

"We need to build up your endurance. You will NOT like the process, but it will be worth it in the end. For goodness sake, did you think this was going to be easy? Move!"

He tries to scowl but he looks more scared than anything else, and he hurriedly puts his shoes back on. He grabs the backpack - without my reminding him - and we head off.

"Sensei? Can I still ask questions?" he asks once we're at ground level.

Someone turns around and gives us an odd look. It figures… American students tend to address their teachers by their first name, so a white boy like Billy calling someone 'Sensei' will draw attention, if only as a mild curiosity, and I want zero attention drawn to us.

"In public, call me Tommy," I instruct, "and yes, you can ask as many questions as you want. Just try to keep them normal sounding when we're out."

"You don't mind people calling you that?" he asks. "I mean, I'm already getting tired of being called Billy. It sounds like a kid's name, you know?"

I shrug.

"Tommy feels more right. Thomas would be harder to pronounce in Japanese, maybe that's why I'm more used to Tommy."

I don't offer to call him William. As far as I'm concerned, he's just being a teenager. If he wants me to stop calling him Billy desperately enough, he'll just have to actually formally request it.

"So what was it you er… remembered back there?" he asks.

"Someone else looking tired after working out," I answer.

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"It wasn't."

He lapses into silence and doesn't bring the subject up again.

We head for a 24 hours discount department store we passed on the way here, and return to the tower with camping equipment rated safe for indoor use, a few changes of clothes and enough food for a few days. I get a few looks from passers-by due to the load I'm carrying, but I easily deflect them by pretending to be paying attention to the parked cars along the street, giving them the impression I'm heading for mine.

Billy has enough sense to deposit the backpack on the floor once we're back in the tower – as opposed to dropping it - but shows no such gentleness to himself. He crashes against the wall, calling back the same images he did earlier. I shake the implanted memory off, dimly wondering what the Order is trying to accomplish with it.

"That stuff was pretty expensive," my new apprentice remarks while I'm cooking. "How much money do you have?"

"Plenty. I took $50,000 and if needed, I can sell some of my weapons. I doubt it'll be necessary."

I wonder if he's going to try to steal the money and run off but dismiss the thought – if he does that, I was wrong about him and he doesn't deserve my help. May the money do him some good until Cobra catches up to him or he ends up a random victim of the Order.

"Fifty thousands? What are we doing here then? Can't we go to a hotel?"

"No. People who live in hotels are seen regularly by the staff and the other guests, so even if we were lucky enough to stumble upon a hotel that doesn't have ties to either Cobra or the Order, we'd be too easy to find for either. Cobra IS looking for us, Billy, you can be sure of that. And as soon as the Order finds out I'm out of the fortress, with the son of the Commander no less, they will be actively looking for us too. We're safer here. I've run into Snake Eyes a few times in the area, but even he would be hard pressed to guess I'm hiding in this particular spot."

I glance at him and notice he's eyeing the food in the camping wok rather suspiciously.

"They're called vegetables," I tease. "Get used to them. I'm going to enjoy eating real food after three years of cafeteria."

"I don't mind vegetables," he says. "But what's with the tofu? You bought meat, too, so you can't be a vegetarian."

"I just felt like it. I haven't had it in… well, I don't remember ever having it, but I still missed it, so I must have. Count yourself lucky I'm going to ease you into seaweed."

He chuckles, and I choose to let him think I'm kidding for now. Considering his age, he's probably going to have a hard time adjusting to proper food as it is. He actually worked up the courage to try to talk me into buying soda at the supermarket, insisting the caffeine would help him stay alert – as if I'd WANT him to have chemical aids while training, especially the kind that backfires with a crash when it wears off.

Author's Notes:

You know what's silly? The one point I hesitated the most on in this chapter was whether Storm Shadow was lactose intolerant. It is very common in Japan, but he's half American, so I could have gone either way (as a matter of fact, in my first draft, he's not). I finally settled on going with it because it means one more annoyance for him with Cobra: he has to take medication because they can't be bothered to get him soy milk or to adapt his menu in any way.

On food: I can't imagine ninjas NOT eating very healthy. They dedicate their lives to making their bodies as efficient as possible and they believe in absolute discipline. Junk food and sweets just don't fit that picture. Storm Shadow tends towards perfectionism and extreme behaviours, so you can guess he'd be no exception, rather the opposite. That being said, don't expect it to come up much – it's just not very relevant to the plot. I use it more in the bonuses, since they're not essential by nature and it's a fun quirk to give Tommy.

Also, I happen to find it very funny in other stories when ninjas fight over sweets or other treats, and I wouldn't want to discourage that by insisting too much on my own take on ninja diets. :D

Next time: Billy really starts his training and reveals something unpleasant. Storm Shadow continues to struggle with his own head.

The Bonus this week: as chosen by WillWrite4Fics, who won the non-existent sitcom naming contest with "Throwing Stars and Fits", a story set in basic training. Solely for the purpose of giving Snake Eyes an excuse to say something in a previous bonus, I've already deviated from canon by making Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow meet during basic training. They're only acquaintances at this point, however.

By the way, if anybody wants to write episodes of "Throwing Stars and Fits", or scenes, please let me know so we can coordinate and avoid duplicating each other accidentally. If you do that and give me a plug in the form of telling your readers where the idea came from, not only will I not mind, I'll downright love it.

Why would I think anyone would want to write something like that? Well… I don't. But! I'd like to see it, so I'm indulging in wishful thinking. :D

Thanks for reading!