Greg didn't understand how Sayuri could possibly be wide awake. He had been talking with the Asian woman through the night, and was nearly exhausted himself. He found Sayuri staring at him and cocked his head at her.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.
"I enjoyed meeting your family, Greg-san," she replied. "And I have enjoyed seeing you again."
Greg smiled tiredly. "I've been looking forward to seeing you too. I'm sorry I had to bail on Thanksgiving; things were coming unglued around here."
Sayuri gave him a strange smile. "Greg-san, we do not even celebrate Thanksgiving in Okinawa."
"Oh, yeah, I knew that." He colored slightly. "I just meant that I was supposed to make it out there, and it didn't happen."
"Many things were happening here," she said pointedly. "That is why I thought it was better for me to come to you. Besides, I do not know how much longer I could have waited to see you in person. I have missed you, Greg-san."
Greg knew the difficulty of the admission that those words actually were for her, given her heritage if nothing else. Leonardo had once explained to him about how restrained and formal her people were with their emotions. That she had made the move to come to him spoke volumes.
"You really came all this way because you missed me?" He gave her an impish smile to soften the seriousness behind the question.
"I remember when you flew nearly 8,000 miles because you thought I was about to get myself killed." Sayuri smiled sheepishly. "I feel like I still owe you for last time."
Greg made a scoffing sound, even as he hoped her gratitude wasn't the only reason she'd felt compelled to make the journey. "You don't owe me anything for coming after you, Sayuri. I wanted to see the Akiudo wiped off the face of the Earth as much as you did. Friends have to help each other with common goals, don't they?"
"Yes, friends…" she said slowly. "Do you see us continuing this way, Greg-san?"
He wasn't sure what to say. Greg knew how he felt, but revealing emotions too soon could prove disastrous if Sayuri wasn't in the same frame of mind. The man leaned on his arm heavily as he contemplated his answer.
"You're one of my best friends, Sayuri, but I'd hoped for more than that. Maybe it isn't right to say it this way, but I can't pretend I know all the rules and decorum you're supposed to have according to Japanese customs. I want more than a friendship with you."
The Asian woman sat up further in her chair. "I want more than that too, Greg-san. I pictured how it would be to see you again, and how I would tell you the moment you were in front of me. But we arrived and my courage fled. I am sorry. Do you still care for me, though I am not as bold as I ought to be?"
"If you can accept me in all my stupidity, I think I can handle your shyness, Sayuri." He reached for her hand intentionally. "I didn't know what to think when you kissed me right before we left Okinawa—"
"I was mortified afterward for days," Sayuri interrupted. "I could not believe my presumption, but after everything we had been through—"
"Sayuri, I didn't say I hated it. You know it confused me, because we had a relationship on such a minimal understanding before I came to your country, and things changed so quickly. We went from being contacts, to colleagues…to being soldiers on the front line of suicide," he finished jokingly. "I was distracted by the disaster with Leonardo and Donny, and I didn't even realize you had feelings for me at the time. I won't lie to you. I didn't even know I could have feelings for you, until you stopped me with that kiss.
"It was exactly what you needed to do, Sayuri. I could have walked away unwittingly, too dense to realize what was going on under my nose."
"You really were not offended?"
He laughed. "No, that wasn't how I'd describe it. I've been missing you more and more over the last several months, and I was sort of afraid you wouldn't feel the same way."
"I am many things, Greg-chan, but a teaser is not one of them. If I did not have those types of feelings for you, I would have cut our chats short a long time ago."
Greg's brow furrowed at the sudden change in her Japanese honorific. "What does 'chan' mean?"
"It has many meanings," she answered. "It is often used in referencing children, especially little girls—"
"Gee, thanks, Sayuri."
"But it can also be interchangeable with intimate friends, or perhaps something more," she said meaningfully.
"So 'chan' is a step up from 'san', at least on a personal level?"
She laughed. "Yes. Chan is a good title."
"Anything is better than you continually calling me by my full name."
Sayuri seemed amused. "One would assume you do not like your name, Greg-chan. Even the turtles call you something different."
"Heff," he filled in. "It's short for Heffernan. Raph decided I needed a new name."
Greg noticed Sayuri's gaze tracking out the window, and he was surprised to see what looked like the crack of dawn. He'd stopped watching the clock a long time ago, and couldn't believe it was nearly morning.
"Wow," he remarked. "I don't believe we stayed up all night. How are you conscious after going through that long flight to get here and our time difference?"
"I slept on the plane, Greg-chan."
"You still have to get used to our time zone, and you won't do that by staying up all night with me."
The woman rose with a soft groan. "Maybe not, but it was worth it."
"Does that mean you're ready to go to bed?"
"Not quite. I'd like to see the sun come up."
Greg got to his feet to follow her toward the front door. He couldn't help watching her stretch languidly, and had to blink to make sure she didn't notice him staring. The pre-dawn air was cold, but not unbearable as they huddled together on the porch. Sayuri took a sharp breath as she rested her hands on the railing, and took her first look at the surrounding country in the light of day. It had already been dark by the time they had arrived at Lotus Salvus the night before.
"It's not too shabby here, huh?" Greg asked.
"No, not shabby, that is…does shabby mean something bad?"
"Sorry. It's a nice view," he simplified.
She smiled at him. "It is one of the most beautiful sights I have seen." Sayuri made eye contact with him again, looking more solemn. "I need your patience, Greg-chan. I know your people are freer with this kind of emotion, and I would like to be too. When I think about all of the women you are surrounded by with me so far away…I must admit that it makes me nervous."
Greg tried not to laugh, because he knew she was serious. "All the women around here are taken, Sayuri."
"You still work in the real world, and you are surrounded by them on a daily basis."
"I'm not interested in other women. You have to understand how knowing the turtles completely changes your priorities as a person. I was a player in the past, but you know all about that. There's isn't anything about my old habits that I haven't told you. I'm not the same person I was before."
She nodded meekly. "I am not trying to accuse you of being that person, Greg-chan. I am only pointing out that my competition is much better at this than I am. I think that would make any woman anxious."
Greg took her wrist to pull her toward him, and kissed her the way he'd wanted to since she'd arrived. "There is no competition, Sayuri, not for me. I feel lucky to even be standing here."
"You are not the lucky one, Greg-chan, not with my baggage."
"We both have baggage," he corrected. "Let's try not to make this harder than it needs to be. I want this. Do you want this?"
Sayuri nodded once more.
"Good. That's all we need to settle for now."
Raphael did his best to muffle a grunt as he pushed his way through another set of leg lifts, specifically targeting the limb that had been more severely injured. He knew how closely Marc was watching him, and he didn't want the man trying to slow him down. Pain was irrelevant to the red-masked turtle; he was only concerned with regaining function in the leg he hadn't used in months.
Marcus silently allowed him to finish another round of the exercises before crouching down by the foot of the bed. "Easy, Raph. It would be nice if we could simply turn the page on this injury and everything could be normal again, but that isn't how it works. You have to increase your training a little bit at a time.
"You know I'm not just being overprotective, don't you? I'm setting you up to succeed the best way that I know how to. The excess pain doesn't bother you, which means you have the potential to push things too far, too quickly. You've got to trust that I know what I'm talking about."
Raphael nodded. "I do, Marc. I'm just impatient."
"Nothing has changed." The man grinned. "Don't worry, Raph. You've already come leaps and bounds. I'll probably be able to remove the external fixator in another month or so, and you can really take off. Until then, take my advice and don't push yourself over the brink. I think that's enough for today."
The red-masked turtle relaxed obediently. It was easier for him to listen to Marcus than almost anyone else. He'd come to appreciate and value the man's knowledge and skills a great deal over the past few months, and he didn't even feel like fighting Marc when Raphael knew he was the one in the wrong.
Marcus gave him a hand onto the side of the bed, and made sure he was steady with his crutches. "You're coming along well, Raph," he assured him. "The rate of your healing is what I'd hoped for."
The turtle gave him a disappointed look. "That sucks. I wanted to blow the average person out of the water."
Marcus laughed. "You're where I hoped you'd be for you. Every person is different, but I had higher expectations for you. You're even exceeding them a little."
Raphael grinned. "Well, why didn't you just say so, Marc?"
"Because I don't want you getting cocky."
"Do you still remember who you're talking to?"
Marcus shook his head at Raphael as the turtle maneuvered around the bed expertly on the crutches and headed for the door.
"You're great at what you do, Marc," Raphael said over his shoulder. "I wouldn't have gotten this far without you."
"Sure you would have; it just would have taken longer. You need to force yourself to still stay off your feet as much as you can, Raph. I know how tempting it is for you to go tearing around the house on those crutches, but you've got to rein it in."
"You don't want me having any fun, do ya?"
"I want you to have the best kind," he corrected. "The type that will put you back on the streets of New York, beating down the worst of the worst."
"I'm aching for it, man. It's weird to go this long without busting someone's tail. I almost feel sorry for the first guy who crosses me when we get home."
"So do I," Marc said dryly. "Now go sit down, and I'll see about rustling us up some breakfast."
"Someone's already cooking, I guarantee it. The only time that stove gets turned off is when we're all asleep."
Marcus nodded. "We're reaping all the benefits too."
"Oh, I ain't complaining, Marc. I just can't eat the way I want to, because you won't let me burn it off yet."
"You're getting good exercise in self-control."
"You're killin' me, man." He snorted as he sank onto the couch, setting his crutches to the side.
"Dada!" A tiny voice announced Olivia's presence before the red-masked turtle could see her.
Raphael craned his neck around to look for her, and saw the baby make it a couple of steps before stumbling to the ground. Karina was right behind Olivia, and helped pull the girl upright.
"She nearly walked across the whole kitchen, Raph," Karina told him. "She's doing so well."
"You are, Liv," Raphael agreed, scooping his daughter up as she patted his right leg. "Did you eat your breakfast already?"
"Every bit," Karina answered for her. "Your daughter doesn't like to waste food."
"My daughter?"
"She is, Raph. I swear she's going to be just like you."
"Nah, I'll get her in some therapy before that happens."
Karina chuckled. "Are you two hungry?" She included Marcus in the question with a glance.
"We're ready to eat," the man replied.
"Then make yourselves comfortable, boys, because we've got a guest chef today. He's been sorely missed in the kitchen."
"Now who might that be?" Marc asked teasingly.
"Do you want to meet him?" Karina grinned. "Hang on."
The woman rapped a hand against the kitchen door. "Hey, Mikey! A couple of guys want to question you about the menu."
"My hands are full, Karina," Mike's voice returned. "You tell 'em they'll eat what they get, and they're gonna like it."
Raphael rolled his eyes. Things are starting to get back to normal around here. About time too.
Just as he was making himself more comfortable on the couch with Olivia, one of the most annyoing songs known to mankind startled him out of his wits, and it appeared to be coming from his belt.
"What the shell?" He yanked his phone free, staring at the device as if it were possessed.
As the three Chipmunks sang in harmony, Olivia clapped her hands in approval.
"No," he said emphatically. "You are not allowed to like that song."
Raphael's eyes narrowed when he realized it was Mike calling, but he picked up the phone to avoid another chorus of "Christmas Don't Be Late."
"Hey, Raphy. Seasons Greetings."
"When you get done cooking my breakfast, come out here so I can kill you."
*Thanks to Laughter's Tears for the inspiration for the ending. It nearly tickled me to death.