Checchinesa

June’s phone on the ottoman begins to ring. As she settles down on the couch, she reaches for it and answers the call from April.

“What’s up, April O’Neil from Channel Six News?” June exclaims into the phone as The Little Mermaid is put on pause.

“Hello, June O’Neil from the couch,” April giggles back on speaker. June whips her head around. 

“Wha—How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess? Just the likely place you’d be,” April teases. June clicks her tongue. “Have you eaten lunch yet?”

“Yup. I bet you're wondering what it is.”

April puffs out a breath, feigning a thought. “I don’t know. Pizza?”

“Exactly!” June cheers. “And no, there will be none left for you when you get home.”

“Darn,” April sighs. “I was hoping to have frozen pizza for dinner tonight.”

June shrugs, unfortunate. She takes another bite and exaggerates a tasty moan. 

“But speaking of dinner, Vern won’t shut up about a new burger joint he wants to take me to.”

“And this involves me… how?” June drags out.

“We’re a package deal.”

“Cute,” June snorts with a roll of her eyes. “Fine, send me the address. I’ll bike there when you get off work.”

“Thank you,” April says. “Well, enjoy your pizza. I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Ta-ta,” June sings, before ending the call. She uses the remote to continue the movie.

The breeze filtering from the open balcony shivers June’s shoulders. She runs her hand down her arm, glancing at the ajar sliding door.

June places her plate on the ottoman, before strolling into April’s room—a casual idea to raid her closet for a certain hoodie. It’s being shared between the two sisters, though it vacants in April’s closet when it’s not being worn.

June enters the bright, beige walls of April’s room and is met with a pile of papers scattered along the bedsheets. June isn’t one for being nosey, but a picture of a shipping container catches her eye and pulls her over to the bed to take a glimpse.

The image of a kanji symbol graffitied on a wet shipping container sits in the middle of the stacked papers. June picks it up to examine it. She immediately recognizes the setting of the picture and knows April took it when she snuck to the docks. It’s the symbol that the vigilante left behind, the one April told June about. 

The next paper June picks up is a printed explanation of the Japanese symbol. It’s an ancient symbol that means family, and has been photographed at numerous crime scenes, presumably to mark the vigilante's presence. June lifts a curious eyebrow, wondering what the vigilante's real purpose was for leaving it behind to be found.

Why an ancient Japanese symbol? Why family? 

June puts the papers back where she found them and continues her search for a favorite hoodie in the closet. The questions will have to wait to be answered. And not over burgers with Vern.

The sky is dark but the city lights brighten the streets of Manhattan. The Channel Six van sits in another block of traffic. Car horns play on the radio, or outside—the difference is a fine line.

June is tired from the large burger that she ate in one go, challenging herself to not have any leftovers on her plate. She leans back into her seat and listens to the soft music on her phone.

Vern has gone hushed, frustrated by the red lights flashing in his face as April watches the smoke rise from the manhole covers out her window. She interrupts the silence with a mumbling confession, “Eric Sacks was so inspiring last night.” June and Vern look over at her. They realize she’s caught up on the Foot Clan again. “I know this is a story that actually matters.”

June sighs, not exactly pitiful. She reaches up to place a hand on April’s arm. “I know. I think it is too,” She agrees. April looks back at her sister with a thankful smile.

Vern cuts in to joke, “The superhero one?” The sisters give him a bored glance. “That’s a good idea. I should chase that down.”

“Shut up, Vernon,” June says, trying not to laugh as she flicks the back of Vern’s head. “Like you can take the Foot Clan head on,” she quips—April snorts, dryly. Because they both know he can’t, but also know who could.

June hasn’t been forthcoming about meeting the vigilante. She doesn’t know what good it’ll do to tell April as she’s only seen him once. If there’s another sighting of him, maybe the timing will be better.

Another car honk breaks June from her thoughts. She leans forward against the back of Vern’s chair. She places a chin on the shoulder with a huff.

“I assume we’re not getting home anytime soon,” June blurts.

“Probably not. But no worries. The Channel Six van is a perfect camper—” Vern’s words are overridden by the loud commotion of people appearing around a building’s corner, wailing as they sprint away. They maneuver through the street, around the blocked in cars. The look of horror casts undeniably on their faces.

June recoils in her seat, startled by the noise. 

“Where’s everybody going?” Vern lifts his hands from the steering wheel. 

April sits up, poking her head out her window. “I don’t know,” she whispers, barely audible. “Stay here, Juno.”

The sound of the door unlocking turns June and Vern’s head in April’s direction. She jumps out the van, slamming the door behind her. “O’Neil! Where are you going?” Vern yells.

“April!” June hollers, releasing herself from her seatbelt and climbing into the passenger seat to shout her name again. April grabs the shoulders of the first person she bumps into.

“Hey! What are you running from?” She asks, swiftly. The person’s face is smite with fear as they slap April’s hands away to run past her. “Wait, wait!”

April continues to dash in the direction the crowd disperses from. Her head spins with absurd curiosity. 

“Ugh, what is her problem!” June fumbles with the door and stumbles out of the van. April disappears out of sight, igniting June’s feet to run faster.

“June! Hey! Stay here—” Vern’s voice is tuned out as June chases after her sister.

Again.

June turns down a new block, bumping into numerous people. She pushes them away to keep her eyes on the beacon of April’s neon yellow jacket. Her hair jumps wildly behind her.

The overstimulating sound of honking cars playing in the background of people screaming begins to blur as June’s heavy pants ring in her ears. She dips around the rear end of parked cars, brushing past the food trucks, and maneuvers through the few blocks of escaping new yorkers to the danger.

The stairs to the subway are in view—so is the faint sight of April. Her speed slows at the entrance as she allows the people to run past her. April travels down the stairs, grabbing onto the railing for leverage. June quickly follows suit.

When she reaches the bottom of the steps, April stops in her tracks to peek around the corner. It gives June the opportunity to catch her.

Her anger is eminent as she growls a loud, “What is actually wrong with you, April!” She grips her sister’s forearm to jerk her back against the wall. April does a double take, blinking widely at June.

“June! What are you doing here?” She barks, holding onto her shoulders. “I told you to—”

“Are you an idiot, moron, or just plain stupid?” June quiets her yelling to a stern whisper as the voices fade from the last few people running up the stairs. “Do you have a concussion?”

“June,” April sighs, briefly closing her eyes to contain her annoyance. “You never listen.”

“Neither do you!” April’s hand slaps over June’s mouth when her voice echoes through the empty subway entrance. The sounds of footsteps peek the sisters’ head around the corner again.

Two Foot Clan soldiers, dressed in their signature black uniforms, descend down another stack of stairs. They hold their guns tightly in front of them. When they disappear, April faces June with a glare filled with fury.

“Go back to Vern, June,” April commands. Her jade eyes narrow. “I’m serious.”

June pushes April’s hand away from her mouth. “Did we not just see the same thing? Those were Foot Clan soldiers! With guns!”

“I know! So you need to go,” April says sharply, grabbing June’s arm and urging her back up the stairs to the surface. “I’ll meet you back at home.”

“No, no freaking way! I’m coming.” June fights back. She opens her mouth to speak again, but the vibration of gunshots rumble in their ears. The sisters go still.

April has to look up at June, but doesn’t falter her sober scowl. She takes a step forward, pointing to the stairs. “Go, June.”

“No. You either leave with me or I’m coming too,” June argues. “I understand you don’t want to give up on the Foot Clan story, and I’m not here to stop you.”

April’s eyes soften for a moment. “What?”

“I said, I’m not here to stop you. But I won’t let you do this alone anymore. If you want to deal with the Foot Clan, we do it together.”

June brushes past April, not waiting for an answer. She heads for the closest column to hide behind. April darts across the room to join her. She places a hand on June’s side, breathing quietly against her back.

“If we’re doing this, you follow my lead,” She tells June with a scolding pinch. June hisses and smacks her hand away. “Don’t leave my side. Understand?” 

“Okay. I know,” June says, glancing over her shoulder.

Another round of gunshots stop their footsteps—June squeals into the silence. She’s never heard the sound of real gunshots before and never knew they could shake someone’s body to the core. She hugs the pillar to ground herself.

April squeezes June’s side for her attention. “You don’t have to—”

“I’m coming with you,” June waves off April’s attempt to push her away. “Let’s go. Lead the way.”

April huffs, jogging to the turnstiles first. She lifts herself over it and rushes to hide behind another closeby column. June does the same, finding herself crouched by a column beside April. 

They share a glance, checking on one another. June lifts the corner of her mouth to assure her sister she’s ready. April hesitates to proceed, clenching her teeth together as she examines the empty room. June watches her sister, waiting for a signal.

The flash of black is so fast that June doesn’t get the chance to warn April before two Foot Clan soldiers grab them from behind. “June!” April chokes on her voice as the Foot grabs at the back of her neck and yanks her from the column. She’s lifted slightly off the ground as the soldier gets a better holding on her.

June is forced into a headlock as she screams for her sister. “April! Help!” She cries in fear, latching onto the Foot’s arm that pushes her forward painfully. 

“June!” April yells again, her eyes darting to June being dragged away. She watches helplessly as the soldier that holds her follows behind the pair. “I’m here, Juno! I’m here,” April calls out to her.

The sisters are walked down the stairs to the subway tracks. They are accompanied by almost a hundred other hostages. The pained groans and worried whines fill the room. June gasps at the number of people lined up against the walls. Guns point sternly in their faces and direct orders.

June forces her head back, catching a glimpse of April behind her. Her racing heart bumps down a beat in relief. “I see you, Juno!” April tells her with a tremble.

The Foot soldier shoves June forward again, seething, “Keep moving,” in her ear. She wants to kick her leg back to knock him down, but it would only make matters worse as she’s outnumbered. 

In front of her, June is met with a familiar woman. Her features don’t come to mind but the red highlights in her short ponytail flashes June back to a rainy night.

A Foot Clan member drops his gun as he’s slammed to the ground, his yelp cut short as he passes out.

Just after the first container dents into the floor, another one rises to fly at more Foot Clan members.

The authoritative voice of the woman from earlier yells out, “Retreat. Retreat!” She and the rest of the Foot Clan make a run to their vehicles. 

She must be the leader of the Foot Clan—and June realizes she’s caught in the crossfire of another one of their plans. Her eyes meet the woman’s briefly and she’s given an uninterested glance before the Foot soldier leads her further into the station. 

The woman scans the room—she seems attentive, secretly troubled as she ignores the hostages crying at her feet. She keeps a close grip on her gun sitting in her holster as she listens for movements beyond the station.

June is thrown to the ground against a column. When she plants her hands down to catch herself, they grab the edge of the platform. June sucks in a sharp breath and jumps back before falling into the train tracks.

A grunt is heard beside her. April lands just as harsh, shutting her eyes to brace the impact. The immediate sight of her bright jacket relieves June.

“April!” she sobs as she latches onto her sister. April, fallen on her side, holds June against her. She presses June’s head into her chest. 

“It’s okay. We’re okay,” April whispers in her ear to overpower the frightening barks of the Foot Clan soldiers.

June’s ear perks up at the sudden noise of loud ticking, followed by the screaming of, “They’re bombs!” She lifts her head from April to observe the small, black boxes being set up along the walls by the Foot Clan. The red flickering light against the box widens April’s eyes. 

A newfound set of panic whimpers from June’s mouth. 

April turns her back to June, attempting to shield her from the commotion. She grabs June’s arm to place around her. June hugs April from behind and shuts her eyes.

“I’ll get us out of this,” April says as the regret settles in. June holds onto her sister tighter, nodding into her back.

The room grows quiet as the dominating voice of the Foot Clan’s leader booms out, “We know you’re out there!” Everyone’s attention points to her, questioning who she speaks to. The dark makeup around her eyes sharpen her wrathful expression. “If you don’t surrender, we start executing hostages.”

The Foot continue to force their guns in people’s faces as they cry. They growl at them to stay quiet and keep down on the ground.

“Who is she talking to?” June asks April in a quiet whisper, her voice shivering. 

“I… don’t know,” April answers back. “The vigilante?”

June gapes, “You think?”

“Just keep your head down, Juno,” April tells her over her shoulder. “It’ll be alright.” June does as she's told, hiding her head into April’s back again.

April moves slowly, watching the Foot soldiers as they surveil the hostages. “Don't make me tell you again! Not a word!” one of them yells at their group against the wall. 

April slyly pulls her phone out from her jacket, holding it close as she tilts the camera to put the leader and her soldiers into view.

June is oblivious to April’s plan as an older woman on the other side of April notices. “Don’t,” she begs under her breath. “Don’t do it!” June furrows her eyebrows in confusion as she glances over April’s body. Her eyes laser on her phone, and she instinctively reaches out to grab it.

“What are you doing, April? Stop!” June protests.

The sound of April’s phone capturing the scene turns the short ponytail leader around. She finds April and June fighting for the phone pointing at her. 

“You two!” she shouts at the sisters. Her gun clocks loudly, startling the both of them. June hugs April—scared. “Stand up,” the woman orders. Her heels clank against the concrete as she draws closer.

“No,” June cries into April.

Before the girls can move, a voice strikes through the stillness. It comes from the empty train tracks. 

All aboard!

The high-pitched turn of train wheels hiss in the air, barreling into the station. The echo of deranged laughter cuts the short ponytail woman off. June can see her face pale as she darts her head to the cursed tracks.

She shouts to her soldiers in Japanese as the lights of the subway fail into a black out. April reaches back to hold June, assuring that she's still there. The train’s headlights blind the hostages to cover their eyes as it rumbles through the dark station. 

June is hit with an unsettling sense of deja vu when a bulky shadow leaps from the top of the train and lands onto the platform. A distinctive size figure bolts across the concrete to the leader that shoots undirected bullets. 

A harsh grunt is heard as she is slammed barbarously into the tiled wall—pieces falling on top of her, as she flops unconscious to the ground.

June slowly sits up. Her jaw drops on its own as she's met with the vigilante from the docks. The one she was sure she may never see again. She feels a smile start to form on her face at its return. It came back to save her.

But another gust of wind flies over her, the same kind as before. June is forced into a halt as a different shadow slices through the air onto the platform too. Almost identical to the vigilante.

“Another one?” She speaks out loud. 

This figure rushes into a group of Foot soldiers, throwing each one into the wall. It makes playful exhalation sounds, almost like it’s having fun. The impact of each soldier ricocheting to the floor is accompanied by a pained groan. The figure runs back into the darkness. A streak of orange.

April begins to stand to her feet. June watches as her sister holds her phone out to record the intense sequence. June rises from the ground herself and grabs onto April.

“What are you doing?” She yells over the noise, exasperated. April ignores June and turns her camera to another Foot soldier being hit.

June plants her feet steadily to fight the harsh wind of the train whipping by her. She pushes her hair out of her face in time to see a Foot soldier being grabbed and thrown into the moving train. She gets a look at the figure for a short moment before it darts away. A streak of blue.

On the other side of the platform, through the windows of the train, the same shadow repeatedly punches another soldier into the wall. June notices the figure has a bulky back as well, like the one that saved her. But it's noticeably smaller with two sword scabbards. 

June’s eyes are forced in a different direction when a Foot soldier flies in the air and crashes into the ceiling lights. He falls back to the ground with sparks landing on the hostages. They turn their heads away, giving the figure time to disperse from its spot. This one is taller and holds a long stick by its side. June doesn’t have time to dwell on the features but still notices something before it disappeared. A streak of purple.

A loud laugh is heard with a lively cheer, “like a shadow, bra.” A pair of swinging chains shine against the wavering light. Its punches are brisk, knocking out each Foot soldier one by one. “How you like that?”

June’s vision turns hazy from all the flickering. She feels dizzy as her eyes blink the sight into sense. Her head feels like it’s pounding. She can’t comprehend what she sees and doesn’t know if she can believe it.

Not one. Not two. Three vigilantes invade the Foot Clan’s plan and are here to save all the hostages.

A grunt lands behind June. She flinches from the noise, turning around to a large body hovering over her. A Foot soldier groans as it hits the ground—the figure kicks it away. 

June chokes on her gasp as she gawks up at a tall, familiar silhouette. The flash of light gives June a short second to examine it. The glow of its eyes peers down at her, a growl rumbling in its chest. 

The second is over and the darkness engulfs the figure. When the flash returns, June is met with… nothing. She stands alone, staring out to the bustling brawl in the station. But she still caught it. A streak of red.

There are four of them. And the last one was him. Her vigilante. 

“Let’s go! Let’s move!” June looks around, finding the shadows rushing to a large, yellow tarp against the wall, blocked by barricades. The tarp bulges and shakes as the vigilantes climb out of the station. June takes a step forward, standing beside April, who notices the same tarp.

The hostile yelling and clocking of guns go quiet. The people trapped in the station begin to rise from their spots, deeming themselves as safe. A crowd rushes over to the tarp and surrounds it. “Did you see that?” someone says. “Here, here!” They question who are the shadows that saved them.

“They climbed up here!” The tarp stays unmoving—the vigilantes already escaping the scene. April grabs June’s arm to run her over. June catches her footing to join the rest of the crowd.

“Some kind of freak!” A man points up to the top of the tarp where it leads to the ceiling. “Yeah, there were a couple of them.”

“Whoo! Right past me.”

“They saved us.”

April looks up, examining the tarp. June glances over to the Foot Clan soldiers as they line against the wall, tied up together. They lay unconscious and beat. 

“Lets get out of here. Follow me,” April turns to June, backing to the direction of the stairs. Her hand shoots out. “Come on.”

“Are we following the tarp?” June asks behind April as they’re forced into a line. The relieved but panicked chattering in the small stairwell powers over April’s response. So, she nods instead. 

The subway is loud as the once hostages escape to the surface. They push one another up the stairs and into the safety of the streets. SWAT teams meet them at the entrance, directing the people out as the rest descend down to the station.

June continues to hold onto April as they are released from the subway to the New York streets. “Which way?” June asks as April moves them around abandoned cars.

“Other side,” April answers, following the scaffolding around the building. They stay in the road because most of the sidewalk is blocked off for construction.

But they eventually turn the block to the back of the building, where the yellow tarp emerges from the subway underground. The sisters stand nearby, wondering which way the vigilantes ran off to. It’s then when June hears the faint voices coming from the roof.

“You see that? I smoked that dude! S’up?” 

“Up there!” June points, releasing April’s hand to walk toward the building. But her sister hesitates to move. June glances behind her when she doesn’t hear April follow. “What? What’s wrong?”

She can’t meet June’s gaze as she casts her eyes away. “I… I’m sorry. I put you in danger back there. I shouldn’t have...”

June walks back to April and plants her hands on her shoulders. “It’s fine, alright? I put myself in that situation.”

“No, I put us in that situation. I wasn’t thinking.”

June shrugs, “Yeah, you weren’t.” A chuckle leaves her lips—April smiles at the sound. “But I was. And I made the decision to go down there. And we made it out, so let's finish what we started.”

April nods once. “Okay, but if you really don’t want—”

June groans in April’s face. “Goodness, April O’Neil, you don’t listen. I said I want to, so let's go find your vigilante.”

“I don’t know if it's the same one from the docks,” April says as they walk toward the building wall. “There were multiple of them. You saw that, right?”

June reaches up for the fire escape ladder and yanks it down to the ground. She stands to the side to let April lead the way. “I did. But maybe there were always more. And now we can catch them all together,” June says, motioning the ladder.

April smiles shortly, walking up to June. She pinches her chin, before grabbing the bars to start her ascend. “Stay close,” she tells June.

“Yeah, yeah,” she mutters, following April up the side of the building.

“Yeah, boys, bring it in.”

“That was amazing.”

“You were incredible.”

The voices on the roof become clearer as the distance from the ground grows further. June pants loudly as she uses the railing for leverage. April sprints up the stairs with the same set of irrational determination as the docks.

June can hear her breathing directly in her ears. The bustling streets turn quiet as her hands grab each metal rail. The celebration on the rooftop is coherent and echoes in the air.

“Great elbow, Donnie.”

“Oh, yeah!”

The final set of ladders pump adrenaline into June. She can feel him again—on the pads of her fingers. His scaly arm has faint ridges on his damp skin as he swings them across the shipping containers.

It has to be him.

April makes it to the top of the stairs, looking for June. She joins her on the platform slightly after. Her hands set on her hips as they both look up at the final ladder that leads to the rooftop.

“That's what I'm talking about! This is our city! These are our streets!”

“You mess with us, you steppin' to the whoo-TANG!” Another voice cheers, ecstatically.

April turns to June as she puffs out a breath. “I’m just going to peek.” 

June nods. “Take a picture?”

“Yeah, of course.”

June leans against the railing, still catching her breath as April starts to climb the final ladder.

“Did you see that guy’s jaw connect with the concrete?”

“He’ll be drinking out of a sippy cup for months!”

April reaches the top of the ladder, looping her arms around the poles to hold herself up. She pulls out her phone from her jacket. June stares up, watching April from below. The voices are so clear as they celebrate. She discreetly listens for the voice that claims a certain silhouette.

“That’s what I’m talking about, brothers. Like shadows in the night, completely unseen…” 

April uses her flash to snap a picture. The sound of her phone and the shine coming from her camera turns the celebratory shouts utterly silent. The only noise is April’s heavy breath. June leans to the side to question what happened.

“April?” She whispers as her sister stares out, frozen in her spot.

“What was that?”

“It's a camera flash…”

“We know it's a camera flash.”

“Who's behind the camera flash?”

“By my calculations, it's a girl.”

“Now we gotta kill her.”

“What?”

“With kindness!”

June hears the exchange on the rooftop, stiffening slightly as her eyebrows shoot up. She pats April’s ankle for her attention.

“Come on, April. Quickly!” She yells for her sister. April gulps, beginning to back down the ladder. June urges her to go faster.

“Wait there’s another voice. Another girl.”

“Two?”

“Do we kill both of them?”

“We are not killing anyone!”

“I got this.”

“Raph, no, no, no! Come on!”

June holds onto her sister’s leg as she lowers down. But April pauses—both sisters notice a long chain looped around her waist. 

“Wha—” April is suddenly flying in the air, pulled back onto the rooftop.

“April!” June yells, swiftly climbing up the ladder. She plants her hands on the concrete edge. April lands harshly on the ground, groaning as she grabs her wrist. June calls her name again as she rushes to her side.

The rooftop is quiet now. June crouches down to assist her sister. April rolls onto her side. “You okay?” June asks, examining April's state.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think,” she sighs out. 

Before June can speak again, a loud thump hits the ground in front of them. All sounds coming from the sisters are immediately silenced. The figure lands so close that the air is consumed by him. He lets out a hard, rumbling grunt as he stands up tall.

His voice startles June to her stomach, she visibly shivers. “Give me the camera,” he demands in a scarcely low tone. April blinks rapidly, trying to make sense of the sight in front of her.

“Ooh, look, he's doing his Batman voice.”

All June can do is stare, unable to speak. Her mouth is dry as she shuts her lips together. Her eyes slowly graze the length of the figure. However, it takes a while for her brain to register what stands in the dim light in front of her.

In her crouched position, June is leveled at his feet, planting heavy with weight. He shifts in his spot on two singular toes. They’re thick, splayed apart, each one bandaged and wrapped up to his ankles.

The glow of his skin is undeniably green with a faint, thin yellow stripe that bends with the shape of his foot. Solid muscle builds him up. He's lightly textured with small scales that catch the light enough to show its depth. The ridges of his leathery skin patch his entire body.

June lifts higher to his inhumane thighs, also wrapped in worn bandages. They continue the pattern of scales before it is hidden from his armored chest; his plastron. It makes sense now.

It’s a muted yellow, cracked on some edges but shape his chest and stomach into hard abs. A strap crosses over his body to the back of his shell to holster his gear. 

June gazes at his hands. They’re large, doubtlessly strong as his three fingers flex. There’s tension in them as he grips his short swords in his hands, prepared to strike. June leans back as he brings his weapons closer. 

Her eyes run up his arms, thick bumps of scaly muscles protrude as he bends them. The feeling in June’s fingers tingle as she stares at his bicep. Most of his forearm is wrapped in more bandages to the tips of his fingers.

His growl brings her eyes to his shoulders that stretches him wide—a dark, heavy shell hovers over his frame. The curve of the shell is the same as when she looked up at him nights ago.

He stands massive and imposing, forcing shadows over June. She’s submersed in the darkness he keeps her in.

“Ooh, they’re so hot, I can feel my shell tightening.”

“We can hear you!” His voice rumbles with annoyance as he looks back. It’s only for a moment before he turns back to June and April. Still, it gives them time to stumble up to their feet. April keeps June slightly behind her, grabbing her hand.

The tall figure’s jaw ticks—his head tilts forward into the light.

The red mask across his face, stark against his green skin, is prominent to June’s focus. A pair of sunglasses casually sit on his forehead. The worn fabric of his red mask place over his eyes and his rounded head. The tails of the mask trail behind him—one of them resting on his collarbone.

June’s gaze draws to his eyes. But she doesn’t look at them for long. His stare is too intense, guarded as he scans her, unblinking. They narrow neither soft nor friendly. It doesn’t feel safe, like the look she received at the docks.

But his eyes have the same glow. They’re a conjunction of yellow and green, fighting for dominance. They stare down on her, beautifully firm with anger.

April sucks in a breath, bringing June back to reality. She shakes her head awake but finds her attention still on the figure in front of her. And it finally dawns on June who she’s looking at. What she’s looking at:

A six foot something walking, talking turtle.

“If you don’t give me the camera,” he starts to speak again, slower. His upper lip has a deep scar cutting through it. “I’m gonna—”

“Enough!” Another stern voice cuts him off. April and June’s head shoot away to a figure flipping off a water tower. He appears from the shadows and lands onto the ledge, on the other side of the sisters. They spin around to face him, now surrounded and trapped on the rooftop.

A shorter turtle but just as large holds two sharpened swords as he shatters the concrete under his feet. He stands tall, peering over the sisters to the other turtle behind them.

“Back off, Raph,” he scolds the red-masked turtle. June glances over her shoulder, cautiously, as the broad turtle raises his hands defensively and backs away.

“I only saw Batman once,” he mutters.

June lands her eyes on him, and the red-masked turtle meets her gaze. His eyebrow muscle lifts, challenging June silently. She inhales, quickly darting her eyes back to the other turtle.

This one wears a blue mask and covers his plastron with wooden armor to resemble chest plates. He has leather shoulder pads to widen his frame, and a samurai type kilt wraps around his waist.

He speaks up, startling June out of her head. “Ma’am, and uh, other ma’am, hello. I apologize,” he says formally, with a slight bow to his head. He jumps down from the ledge to the rooftop, leveling with June and April. But his height still towers over them. 

He takes slow steps toward the girls, stalking closer. “My colleague here forgot to say please. So, would you please hand over the camera?” He asks politely, which contradicts the threatening frown on his face.

June can feel April panicking against her. She heaves with her whole body, tightening her hand in June’s hold. She takes cautious steps back and brings June with her. 

“What do we do?” June whispers with her teeth clenched. The sisters continue to stare at the blue-masked turtle in astonished fear. 

With another step back, April bumps into a solid chest. She yelps, scaring June as well, as they both spin around to a third turtle. He grabs onto April’s arms before she falls. But it only frightens her more and she can’t catch her breath. Her lungs start to work overdrive as she hyperventilates.

The orange-masked turtle stands shorter than the others. His height doesn’t feel as looming, and his genuine apologetic expression for startling them is calming.

“No, no, no! Whoa. Whoa. Chill. It's just a mask,” he reassures April with a friendly smile. June grabs April, snatching her from the turtle's hold. “See? Don’t freak out,” the turtle says, as he reaches back to undo the knot of his mask. 

He holds the orange bandana up and reveals his light green scales underneath. The features of his face replicate the sort of mutation between a human and a turtle. His teal, oceanic eyes crinkling at the sisters as he looks at them, “Right?”

June notices April begins to wobble. She stiffens, holding her sister up before she topples over. "April?" June checks on her, concernedly. When she turns her to the side, she watches April's eyes start to roll back. Her breathing comes out at a rapid speed, before it suddenly stills and she collapses to the ground, slipping from June's grasp.

“April!” June yells as her sister falls unconscious. However, her breath has thankfully gone back down to its normal rate. 

“Oh, I think that went well.” A different, higher pitched voice appears at June’s side. “She totally didn’t freak out.” June glances over at a fourth and final turtle, a purple mask hidden behind a thick pair of glasses. He is notably skinner than the other three with a slender and longer limbed body.

His shell is mounted with numerous pieces of tech, devices toppling on top of one another. 

June stares at him, wide-eyed, as he crouches down and places a hand on April’s shoulder. He looks over at June, noticing her gawking at him, flabbergasted. 

He waves shyly, “Sorry about that. Nice to meet you.” June continues to stare at him in shock. The purple turtle clears his throat, using his free hand to drag his tech goggles that sat on his forehead over his eyes. “I’m just going to make sure your friend is okay,” he tells June.

“My… my sister,” June finally speaks.

The other turtles walk over to surround June with their larger bodies engulfing her in their shadows.

The purple-masked turtle smiles sweetly at June. “Oh, well that makes more sense. I should have known. You two look just alike,” he mentions. The corners of June’s lips begin to raise.

There are quiet conversations behind June. She looks over her shoulder at the three other turtles watching their fourth check on April.

The red-masked turtle, arms crossed, plays with a toothpick in his mouth. He was watching June, gazing at her with muted curiosity. She catches his stare and holds it for a moment longer than she should've. He grunts a noise.

The blue-masked turtle approaches with April’s phone in his hand. He finds June eyeing him as he walks over. He bends down to her side. This time, his expression is soft, apologetic and concerned.

“We’re sorry for frightening your sister,” he says. June blinks at him, stunned by his flipped tone. She nods once.

“I’m not,” a harsh scoff is heard behind him. The blue-masked turtle growls under his breath, whipping his head back. “Shut up, Raph. Yes, you are.”

The red-masked turtle rolls his eyes, turning his body away. 

“It’s fine. We were just surprised, is all,” June says, quietly. She tries to keep eye contact so she doesn't creep him out with her thirst to explore his frame. She has a lot of questions that need to answer how.

“I bet,” the turtle chuckles. “Not everyday you see… us.”

June giggles softly. “Yeah. Not really.”

They both look down at the phone in the turtle’s hand. “We really can’t have your sister walking around with our picture on her phone. Think you can understand why?”

“I can delete it,” June offers with her hand out. But the blue-masked turtle doesn’t return it, staring at her open palm.

“Actually, I’m going to have my friend here do it. Just to be sure.” He motions his head to the purple-masked turtle waving again.

June snorts a laugh, and the turtles widen their eyes at her. “What? You don’t trust me?” she underscores a tease.

“Hell no,” the red-masked turtle speaks up again. June fights a snarl in his direction. She simply looks over at him. “Your nosey sister shouldn’t have been taking pictures of us in the first place.”

Before the blue-masked turtle could scold him, June comments first. 

“No need to be rude about it. We were just threatened at gunpoint and forced to the ground when a group of shadows swoop in and single-handedly take down all of those Foot Clan soldiers before suddenly disappearing. We were curious and—”

“Well, curiosity kills the cat, doesn’t it?” He seethes.

“Oh, so you’re gonna kill me? Over a simple picture? Or are you just mad she didn’t get your good side, huh? You big baby,” June stands up her full height, even though it doesn’t make her any taller. The red-masked turtle still dominates over her. And he smirks at June’s effort to intimidate him.

He moves forward, invading June’s space. His large crossed arms bump into her chest. She reflexively steps back to catch herself.

“Chill, Raph. She’s just messing with you,” the orange-masked turtle puts a hand out. “This little dudette’s got some spunk. I like her!”

“Mikey, shut it,” the blue-masked turtle, June deems as their leader, snips at him. “And Raph, cut it out. We’ll erase the picture and everything will go back to normal, okay?”

The red-masked turtle chews on his toothpick, ignoring the blue's attempt to assure him. June doesn't look away from his hard glare. She has gained some confidence and can’t let it waver now. 

“Yeah, Raph,” she taunts in his face, playing with his name. “Listen to your buddy.”

“You picking up a fight, little girl?” The red-masked turtle starts to growl, his plastron growing in size as he sucks in a breath. June hesitates for a moment, unable to read his language.

“Yo, yo, Raph!” The orange-masked turtle comes to June’s side, placing a three fingered hand on his partner's plastron. “She’s not trying to pick a fight, dude. You are.”

June backs away, letting the orange-masked turtle calm the other down. She didn’t mean to rile him up into a defensive stance. And she obviously can’t win in a physical fight against a six something foot turtle with a weapon. 

She finds the purple-masked turtle with April’s phone in his hand. He presses at the screen, his tongue poking out of his mouth. The blue-masked turtle stands beside him. He monitors June to make sure she doesn’t argue with them.

“We’re just erasing the picture, that’s all. Then we’ll be out of you and your sisters’ hair,” he explains. 

Speaking of April, she lets out a groan, moving slightly on the floor. June crouches down to her side. “April?” she calls her name with a shake to her shoulder. “Wake up.”

The purple-masked turtle returns to June’s side with April’s phone. “She’s going to be fine. She’ll wake up in a minute,” he tells June, reassuringly. He places April’s phone back in her jacket. “And this belongs to her.”

June looks over at the purple-masked turtle, bowing her head. “Thank you.”

“No problem, June,” he smiles back. The girl freezes in her spot, suspicious of how her name is known.

“Wait, how’d you—”

“Oh, sorry,” the purple-masked turtle scratches the back of his neck, “my goggles gave me a little information when I hacked into April’s phone. Just your names, I swear.”

The blue-masked turtle stands behind June, taking louder steps to avoid scaring her in the process. “Wake her sister up, Donnie, so we can leave.”

The purple-masked turtle nods, leaning over April, holding her collarbone to shake.

June takes the chance to look at the other two turtles. The orange-masked turtle sits casually on the ground, wrapping the chain hanging on his neck around his finger. When he catches June’s eye, he winks at her.

She smiles back before moving her attention over. It slides to the last turtle, leaning against the water tower further back.

He’s already watching June, eyeing her with an indecipherable expression. He bares his teeth as he fiddles with his toothpick. The frame of him with the light dawning on his back to force a dark silhouette brings June’s mind to another night.

A loud breath leaves its nose, content, before releasing June from its hold. It climbs to the top of the containers to tower over June. It doesn’t leave. Even as June looks up at it with widened eyes—blinking the rain away as best as she can.

“Question for you,” she directs to the red-masked turtle. He cocks his eyebrow muscle up. He glances over his shoulder, wondering who she speaks to. June starts to chuckle. “Yes, you. The short tempered one.”

His eye twitches. “No, thanks,” the turtle growls, “I’d rather not.”

June frowns slightly. 

The blue-masked turtle stands beside June to defend her. “Don’t be rude, Raph.”

He throws his arms in the air. “Why is everyone suddenly taking her side? These two show up out of nowhere, take a picture of us like we’re freaks to show—“

“That’s not true,” the orange-masked turtle cuts in. “She told us they were just curious of who saved them.”

“Yeah, and you’d be the one to believe that garbage, Mikey,” the red-masked turtle shoots back. “You don’t even know her,” he barks, pointing at June.

“It was just a question,” June says, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean to rile you up. But it seems like I’m being a bother.”

“Glad you noticed.”

June tilts her head to the side, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Good thing I like being a bother.” The orange-masked turtle cackles, pointing teasingly at his short tempered partner. “Do you enjoy throwing shipping containers at Foot Clan soldiers, by any chance?” June asks, hands clasping behind her back.

The red-masked turtle pauses in his spot. The rest of them turn to him. 

“Why’d you ask?” the purple-masked turtle questions June. “That’s oddly specific.”

She shrugs, staring down the brute figure. “I don’t know. He just looks like the type to ambush a Foot Clan attack by using a shipping container to smack them into the river.” His eyes narrow at her.

“Stop talking to me, will ya?” He demands, turning away. “I’m about to leave. Let’s hurry this up, Donnie.”

With the command, both the purple and blue masked turtles lean over April to attempt to stir her awake.

The orange-masked turtle slides to June’s side with an amused smile. He bumps his shoulder with hers, getting close enough to share a secret. “I think I know what you’re talking about, dudette. And yes, is the answer,” he whispers. 

Her eyes widened at him. “Really?”

“So you’re her, huh?”

“Her?” June hums. “I don’t follow.”

“You’re the—“

The dominating shadow of the red-masked turtle hovers over his partner, snarling at him. “Do me a favor and stop being a big mouth idiot.” He grabs the orange-masked turtle by the edge of his shell and drags him away. His eyes glare at June for a quick second.

“Rude,” June mutters, turning back to April. 

But thanks to the orange-masked turtle, it’s all she needs to know. 

She's found her vigilante. Her brute vigilante.