"He is a beast," Karai muttered. "An animal."

"Perhaps he was once," Toshiro said diplomatically. "But clearly he isn't any longer, or I would not be here."

His gaze strayed to the turtle kneeling on the dojo's mats, his head turning to and fro as he took in the weapons racks, the scrolls on the walls, the two ninja guarding the doorway. Toshiro still found it a little perplexing that the turtle was naked, though. Raphael didn't have anything to specifically cover on his body — nothing visible, anyhow — but clothing would set him more firmly in the realm of human interactions.

With a final cinch of his obi, the old man walked out towards his new student. He was pleased to see that Raphael seemed to have gotten over his initial hostility; he squirmed a little when Toshiro knelt in front of him, but reluctantly met his eyes.

"Raphael," Toshiro said patiently and quietly, as if to a child. "Do you know who I am?"

"Toshiro," the turtle replied.

"Very good. Master Shredder has instructed me to teach you to become a ninja. Do you understand what that means?"

Slowly Raphael shook his head.

Toshiro sighed, and passed a hand over his bald head. "It means that you must be secret. Stealthy. You must learn to keep to the shadows. You must obey Master Shredder in all things, and be ruthless, merciless when he calls upon you to be. And above all, you must learn how to fight."

The turtle seemed to consider this, and Toshiro found himself wondering how much Raphael actually understood of what he said. It ultimately didn't make a difference — Master Shredder wanted Raphael to be a ninja, and a ninja he would become, whether he liked it or not. Disappointing the jonin of the clan would not be healthy for either Toshiro or Raphael.

Toshiro rose to his feet and gestured for the turtle to follow him. The first thing he needed to do was determine Raphael's physical attributes — he had a rigid shell that kept him from flexing his spine as humans did, so Toshiro needed to know how he could compensate for that. He led Raphael through a series of basic stretching exercises, watching as the turtle followed his motions almost perfectly. He bent from his hips rather than his spine, but that seemed to be his only handicap — aside from that, he was flexible and surprisingly at-home in his new body, though it must have been shockingly unlike that of a normal turtle.

Toshiro could feel Karai staring at them as he led Raphael through more of the exercises, but he chose not to look back at her. She wouldn't interfere, he knew, but she wasn't happy with their clan adopting a turtle as a member, no matter how skilled he became. And there was something else there — some personal grudge that tainted her dislike of what the mutant was.

"Very good," Toshiro said when Raphael had finished the last pose. "You learn quickly, I see."

"I learn," Raphael responded haltingly.

The old man smiled at the childlike reply, and placed his hands on Raphael's shoulders to turn him around. The turtle followed his motions silently, and watched as Toshiro moved into martial arts fighting forms, one after another, repeating them as many times as necessary. His eyes darted across the old man's arms and legs, soaking in every move. Then he began clumsily imitating them, following the old man's rhythm.

"Very good," Toshiro said again. Raphael's motions were too imprecise and sloppy, but that could be easily corrected. The general idea was there — and as Shredder had assured him, the turtle was a quick study.

Now, to test his actual fighting ability.

Toshiro straightened his clothing and turned to face the turtle, who remained silent and vigilant, watching for what he was expected to do next.

"Strike me, Raphael," he said.

This time, he could tell that Raphael understood perfectly well what he wanted, as the turtle's eyes widened in shock. Wordlessly, he shook his head.

"It's all right, Raphael," Toshiro said soothingly. "You won't be punished. Master Shredder will not be angry."

Raphael shook his head again.

The old man placed a hand on the turtle's shoulder. "I must see how you are able to fight, Raphael. Do not worry. You will not hurt me."

Slowly Raphael's resistance began to ebb, until he reluctantly raised his fists.

"Very good. Now strike me."

The turtle lashed out with his right fist, which Toshiro easily dodged. "Again, Raphael!" he barked.

Raphael grunted and swung his fist again, this time almost grazing Toshiro's ear. Time to finish this, Toshiro concluded. His hands flew up to seize the turtle's wrist, and, with almost no effort, sent him flipping over his shoulder, landing in a heap of shell and limbs on the mat.

Out of the corner of his eye, Toshiro saw Karai smirk.

Raphael's head jerked up, rage flashing in his eyes and a snarl crossing his face. He sprang back to his feet and lunged back at Toshiro, this time seemingly without fear of reprisals for his actions — he again punched at the old master, uttering a wordless bellow of anger.

Toshiro dodged each of the punches easily, swaying aside like bamboo in a high wind. He felt his appreciation for the young turtle growing with every passing moment — Raphael was crude and undisciplined, and his moves were telegraphed well in advance, but his blows had strength and precision. What was almost as important, there was a burning spirit inside the turtle, anger that could be harnessed and purified into something far more useful.

But it was time to end this outburst, before Raphael got the idea that he could lash out at his master this way. Dodging another green fist, he precisely aimed his fingers at the turtle's neck, a strike that would weaken Raphael and bring him to his knees. After that, he could begin the turtle's proper training.

But as Toshiro's hand moved, the turtle blocked him.

Raphael looked almost as surprised as Toshiro felt, as though he had no idea how his arm had ended up where it was.

"Very good, Raphael," Toshiro said, raising his dark brows. "A lucky move, but a well-timed one."

"Thank you," Raphael grunted.

But as Toshiro guided Raphael through more strikes and kicks, he began to wonder if it had been luck that guided Raphael. For the most part, the turtle was clumsy and undisciplined, which was hardly surprising when one considered that he had been a mere animal less than two days beforehand. But occasionally he made a move that seemed more adept than it should — a strike that Toshiro could only barely avoid, a kick that was too precise to be the the flailing of a novice.

A few hours passed. Toshiro was so wrapped up in testing and observing Raphael that he almost did not notice when the doors to the training dojo opened, and the imposing figure of Master Shredder appeared there. He quickly bowed before the jonin, a motion that Raphael belatedly copied.

"What do you make of him, Toshiro?" Shredder asked.

The old man straightened. "I am still finding out his capabilities, but I believe that he has a natural aptitude. He also has great strength and spirit. He will make a formidable ninja," he said.

Shredder's face was still hidden by his mask, but Toshiro had the impression that he was pleased.