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“The dark alleys smell of the failure of this society of ‘America’ as those without order wallow in their own filth and shame as they refuse to take what they need to survive, relying on the most basic of subsistence and on the charity of their oppressors. New York City calls them the homeless, but I see the lifeless instead. It pains me to even bear to look at them, but The Shredder has not ordered their deaths nor have they seen something they should not have at this point in time so they are allowed to continue this pitiful existence. There’s a tug of hesitation to despise them so at the center of my body and I am not sure why as I look down upon them, why do I feel so restrained by my own inhibitions?” Karai Oroku looked to her closest ally and only true friend in the clan, Tora Yoshida, as they sat in a room in a warehouse in New York City that had been chosen as one of the Foot’s discreet safe-houses. 

Karai’s reservations about her own feelings worried Tora who had obediently followed the Foot as it was request of him by his father before his passing, but even with such obedience he felt something was off in the air of his comrades—like there was something dark and malicious growing in the shadows. With a compassionate frown he attempted to speak to Karai about these feelings of hers as she viewed it important enough to come to him about it. 

“I think it’s because you care about their well-being, thinking that if they had order in their life then their purpose wouldn’t be so without vigor and resolve.”

Karai stopped to think on the words from her friend before she raised her head with a confident smile. “You are very wise for your years, my friend.”

Tora chuckled humbly, “I suppose. Is there anything else that is on your mind, Karai?”

“Actually… there’s a lot in my thoughts, ever since we arrived here in New York. I feel like something is calling to me… whispering in my ear, something that I didn’t feel was present in Japan. I feel oddly home but I don’t feel comfortable, and I don’t know why.”

The feeling of restlessness was hard to pin down for the teenaged girl as she tried to understand her thoughts in conversation with her fellow foot clansmen as she pondered what could be creating such uncomfortable nostalgia. She didn’t like New York or so she believed, so how could she feel like it was home? Home was in Japan, not in some overtly unorderly cacophony of complacency and greed. The feeling that something was calling to her somewhere in New York worried her greatly and she did not want her father to feel like she was uncertain or unfocused—as those were traits of the failures of The Foot and not the prodigal examples as she was expected and oftentimes proved she was. But what could she do about such anxiety? She hoped expressing it through speech was what she need to do.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I feel like I need to be here, but not for the reasons we need to be here—like there is a greater reason calling me to a place I’m not fond of, a place where it’s not about the Foot Clan… but about me, like the spirits above are calling out to me trying to make me understand something but I’m not sure what it could be. I refuse to let my father hear of this or see this from me, I need to remove myself from this feeling before our work here begins.”

“I’m not sure I have any thoughts on that.” Tora admitted, feeling Karai’s thoughts were worrying for a plethora of reasons. She was afraid of looking weak in front of her father, yet she felt like she needed to be here for reasons that weren’t connected to the clan, and that it was overwhelming her. Tora didn’t like it one bit and while he wouldn’t dispel such information to her father unless ordered to, he felt like Karai was not ‘whole’ and it was hurting her so immensely that he could not bear to see her continue to do so.

“But I can say that you should be with peace with your feelings.”

“That’s a very simple answer.”

“Sometimes a simple answer is all you need.”

Karai smirked, “Quiet, Tora-kun.”

“If that is your wish.”

It was a joke between Tora and Karai, a sort of respectful statement that when spoken amongst each other signified their friendship and loyalty to one another. It was a phrase that they did not use anywhere else, even amongst the leader of the clan as they would often reply differently in obedience to their master. 

“I thank you for your time, regardless, Tora.”

The youthful ninja nodded with a smile. “You are very welcome.” Tora’s eyes shot to a nearby display of time amongst the safehouse. “I believe this idle set of conversation is best ended here, we have company.” He said as his hands reached behind himself, pulling the mask of the foot over his head. Karai did the same—like this they appeared the same as any other member under the clan as they moved into the shadows of the building. Karai’s eyes shot back and forth as a group of men came flocking in—they flew the colors of a local street gang, the 49th Street Stompers. The Stompers weren’t very threatening or important as they were simple competition to another gang called the Purple Dragons. Unfortunately this gang would end up a few members short as it had been decreed by The Shredder—New York was declared as a state of feudal war and all that refused to swear their allegiance to the clan or trespassed in their lands would lose their lives.

Karai and Tora looked to one another as their hands unsheathed their weapons quietly.

The group of stompers had no chance.