She dressed swiftly, stealing a moment to check under her bureau as she stooped to retrieve a dropped headband. Her secret was still there, nestled among dust mice and carpet fuzz. She glanced guiltily over her shoulder, as though the walls of her room could accuse her, remembering just how the secret had come to be there.

The Master had sent her into the streets below once, instructing her to acquaint herself with the area on foot. She suspected that he'd also wanted her out of the way during one of his "legitimate" business meetings, but nonetheless she'd enjoyed the outing thoroughly.

She'd bought coffee and doughnuts at a sidewalk cafe, eating slowly while she watched traffic and people go by, reveling in the heady sensation of being completely alone -- no shadows, no bodyguards; no spying eyes. She watched one couple tenderly spoon-feeding their infant child, aching for a kind of bond totally alien to her experience.

She'd drifted through clothing stores in a mall, wistfully fingering pretty dresses she'd never be allowed to wear. Her workwear was strictly businesslike or seductive, as the Master deemed fit, and work was her life; there was no time or place for innocent beauty.

She'd even gone to the mall's movie theater, telling herself it was cultural research. She smiled as she brushed her hair, remembering how she'd stood in awe of the endless poster parade, finally choosing a movie whose poster showed a sword-wielding woman with long dark hair. It had felt strange to eat food so informally, in the dark where no one would notice if she spilled. Loose popcorn, she'd learned, didn't go far, but Skittle candies could roll all the way down to the viewscreen.

The secret, though, had been an afterthought. She'd passed a bargain rack outside an electronics store, and one of the game covers had caught her eye. It was a re-release of a classic Japanese role-playing game which just happened to be compatible with an older gaming system -- also on sale. She remembered hesitating, weighing the strange but undeniable impulse against an almost irrational fear of discovery before buying them both with the cash intended for a taxi ride home.

Ever since then, she'd been working through the game-story in stolen moments, reveling childishly in the complicated plot, then unplugging the Nintendo and stowing it away under the bureau afterwards. It shouldn't matter if anyone knew, and yet she shielded it as though her sanity depended on it. The Master mustn't know she kept anything secret, no matter how small. He might think she was frivolous, undependable. She couldn't bear to think of losing his approval. She was already on uncertain grounds.

She pulled on her boots and tried to bury the thought, but it resurfaced stubbornly, trailing a string of related concepts with it. She'd always been on thin ice with the Master -- she just hadn't known it until she began serving him in person. From oceans away she'd been able to project unconditional acceptance into his silences. She checked her appearance in the wallside mirror, trying to ignore the ever-deepening ache in her heart. Now...

Now she needed to get to work. She locked her room behind her and slammed mental doors on that line of thought, unwilling to face the creeping suspicions that were undermining the very foundations of her world. Today would be different. Today she would prove herself worthy. Today...

"You can trust my brother implicitly."

She shook the stray game quote off and headed for the command room, bracing herself for her daily encounter with Baxtar's annoying assistant. She would have liked to avoid passing his desk altogether, but that meant taking two hallways and a staircase out of her way to enter rather obviously on the opposite side of the room. She preferred bearing the annoyance to letting anyone know how much she dreaded it.

He looked up and smiled puppyishly as she entered. "Good morning, Karai. My, you look schway."

She felt her jaw tighten but forced her expression to remain carefully neutral. She sketched a bow so shallow as to be borderline rude, knowing from experience that he would take any reply as an invitation to converse. Saki was on the far side of the room, discussing a viewscreen's contents with Hun. She changed course slightly, angling towards the Foot shogun and away from the programmer's desk.

"Karai, wait."

She groaned silently. Too little, too late. Maybe she could have taken the staircase, just once. A trip to the ladies' room -- the view out the far window --

Chaplin leaned over his desk to shove a disc into her hands. "I think you should see this," he said conspiratorially.

She almost flipped it into a nearby trash bin, but Hun was looking over. Her body blocked the disc from his view, but he would see it if she threw it away. She had no idea what was on it, be it smarmy love notes or incriminating evidence. Either way, she'd prefer the human behemoth didn't dig it back out and look for himself.

Ignoring Chaplin's hopeful gaze, she slid the disc into her tunic without breaking stride. There'd be time to get rid of it later.

Snippets of conversation drifted over as she made her way to Saki. "I tell you the brothers are one. We must treat them as such."

Her heart sank. No, please, anything but that. Sentinel duty on a cold, rainy night. Crowd control at a Dragon event. Sitting opposite Chaplin through a three-hour meeting --

"Karai. Just in time." Saki turned back to Hun without missing a beat. "Destroy one, and we destroy them all. The cord will unravel, and those left will fall."

"Are you sure she can be depended upon?" Hun objected. "Why not give such a vital assignment to a more loyal agent?"

The accusation stung to the quick. She bit her lips and said nothing, though her eyes narrowed.

"It is not as though you could play the part," Shredder said dryly. "Besides, I have something more important for you to do."

He turned to the viewscreen, and she saw that it was a diagram of the Empire State building. She had stood atop it once, wind screaming through her hair while asphalt depths yawned below.

"You, Karai, will conceal yourself here." Saki began pointing. "Opposite this railing. Hun and his Dragons, here. They will commandeer the top of the building tomorrow night, and --"

"But will they not call the police?" she objected.

"I am counting on that." Saki smiled. "They will dangle hostages to ensure that the law enforcers are not so foolish as to fire upon them."

Karai suppressed a shudder. All for the greater good...

"While the softhearted officers hesitate, Hun, you and your Dragons will arm the bomb and demand ransom."

Hun nodded, obviously having been filled in on the details before.

Saki looked well-satisfied. "Under cover of darkness, the turtles will be bold enough to venture out -- especially for a threat of this magnitude. I have no doubt that the police scanners will draw them in like a moth to the flame."

Karai wanted to ask what all this had to do with her, but had a sinking feeling she'd find out soon enough.

"You, Karai..."

No, no, don't make me...

"You will emerge and pretend to oppose Hun." Saki smiled at her surprised reaction. It was not a nice smile. "Yes, my dear. Make it good. Go on about innocent lives and honor..."

She dropped her eyes. "I don't think anyone would believe that from me." And I'm afraid that they would.

"You can do this, Karai." His voice warmed suddenly. "I know you will not fail me."

She looked up fleetingly, torn, hungry for his praise but afraid of it, too; afraid of what it would cost her to earn it. "I will try, Master," she heard herself say eagerly.

"I know you will," he said soothingly. "During the course of the argument, Hun will shove you over the railing -- not so hard that you actually fall, but convincingly enough to bring the Turtles to your aid when you cry out."

Hun smirked. "With pleasure, Master."

Karai wondered how Hun's jealousy of her could have escaped the Master so completely. She'd be lucky if her rival didn't throw her over bodily. But anything -- any fall -- for her Master's approval --

"And you, Karai." Saki looked at her. Hard. "Whichever turtle comes to your aid... I want you to kill him. It doesn't matter which. Strike him when he least expects."

She felt her spirit shriveling. She felt as though she should speak, but his gaze forbade objection. Forbade being.

"Do you understand, Karai?"

"I..."

"Karai!"

She flinched, the harsh tone burning like a whip. He had her by the throat. If his approval was life, his displeasure was annihilation.

"I understand, Master."

* * *

She completed her monitoring duties in a daze. Normally it would have been a seething irritation to have the programmer making eyes and bothering her all shift, but today she was oblivious to him. To all.

She couldn't. She must. She couldn't --

The two thoughts chased each other around inside her head, whirling faster and faster until she felt like screaming. It was a struggle not to bolt upstairs after her shift was over, but she felt Saki's eyes boring into her back and forced herself to move casually. The few strides between her desk and the door felt like acres. She must. She couldn't. She must --

The door closed behind her, but she rode her bolting impulse even harder. There were eyes everywhere in the tower.

It was with immense relief that she closed her door behind her. She shoved the bolt home and slid down against the wall, cradling her head in her hands. Her chest constricted until she almost felt like wheezing. In the silence, her thoughts whirled even faster. She'd hoped it would never come to this. That she would never have to make the inevitable choice. She couldn't. She must. She couldn't --

Desperate for a distraction, she dragged herself to the bureau and pulled the Nintendo out. As she leaned over to plug it in, Chaplin's disc dropped out of her tunic. She slid it tiredly aside, too stressed to want to think about it one way or another.

She lost herself in the story, trekking over deserts with kings and thieves to Imperial dungeons, where she rescued a brave and noble general who had defected from the service of her evil King.

"Traitor."

"How can you serve them?"

She flinched again, then berated herself. There were no parallels. It didn't matter if the general had revolted against an evil overlord. It didn't matter if she carried a sword. Game warriors had nothing to say to her, a living and breathing person. Nothing. I must. Nothing. I can't...

She threw the controller down and ran to her private exercise room, training ferociously until weariness overtook her. She was crawling into bed when a reflection from the carpet caught her eye.

Oh. Chaplin's disc. She'd better dispose of it before she forgot.

She picked it up, held it over the trash... hesitated. Maybe -- just maybe, looking at the contents would make her angry enough to drive the other thoughts out of her mind. Maybe it would drive out these other thoughts long enough to keep her from dreaming about them in darkness.

Angry with herself for stooping so low, she popped the disc into her computer and began to read.

* * *

The Master called her very early next morning, but it didn't matter. She was already awake.

"Karai, my dear," he said concernedly as she walked into his private suite. "You don't look well. Are you sure you are ready for tonight's mission?"

She braced herself, buried warring revulsions far beneath thought or seeing, and bowed very low. A ninja never permitted emotions to interfere with duty. "I am prepared to do what I must, Master."

"I am pleased to hear it," he said approvingly. "Do well, and I will personally reward you."

With Leonardo's head on a platter, perhaps?

"I will do well."

He sent her on another familiarization run, this time on and around the Empire State Building. She did not dream of stopping at the mall. Eyes were following her all the way. She knew it. She sensed it. He wanted to see if she would try to warn the Turtles. He wanted to see if she'd really understood.

She understood.

So she familiarized herself. The ascent was not nearly high enough to lift her out of the blackness within. She walked obediently up the long stairs, noted the elevators... gazed over the railing into a dark and frightening fall, the magnitude of which chilled the depths of her soul. She'd done many things for the Master, committed many questionable acts, but never this. Never murder.

She couldn't.

She must.

It was evening before she returned. She bent her will to her bidding with an effort and went in search of Baxter's assistant, finding him in the lab, hunched over a microscope. He was alone.

He looked up in surprise when she called him, and well he might. Never once had she spoken to him voluntarily. Now, though, she drew close and smiled at him. He smiled back hopefully, though a little bewildered by his good luck.

"M-- Mistress Karai, you look -- I mean, not terrible, of course you never look terrible, but uh, you look a, er, a little pale --"

Understatement. Her complexion was ashen. Having one's world fall apart could do that.

Focus.

"Thank you for the disc," she said quietly.

"Oh, it was no problem," he gushed. "No problem at all. I mean, I knew you might like to see whatever was on it cause I always download whatever my employer has on me especially if it's under mega security and it's always good to know where things might be coming from and -- and all that, you know?"

"Yes, of course," she managed to interject when he ran out of air. "Have you... shown that information to... to anyone else?"

"Of course not." He looked shocked. "I, uh, didn't even look at it myself."

"You mean, you cannot read Japanese?"

"N-- eh, I mean, I wouldn't --"

Liar. Of course he'd looked. Bilingual he was probably not, but he certainly knew how to run translation software. She'd take care of that later. What she needed now was damage control.

"I would prefer..." She stopped and tried again. "I would be... very grateful... if you would keep it, as you say, under wraps." She tried her best promise-them-the-moon coy smile. He melted like butter in a saucepan.

"You can count on me, K- uh, Mistress Karai."

Moron. Manipulating him would be almost too easy if it weren't so repulsive.

"Thank you..." She unclenched her teeth with an effort. "...Chaplin."

She was glad there were not more innocents... but Shredder's was the greatest cause. How many times had she heard it? How long since she had fervently believed that? That belief bound her will to his, ruled her every waking moment, silenced every pang of conscience.

I must. I must.

She watched lifelessly as Hun directed the taking of hostages, barking orders over frightened cries and pleas. They set up the bomb, held off police choppers just as Shredder had instructed them to. Scanners must be screaming all over the city.

Maybe it would not work. Maybe tonight they'd happen to be too far away. Maybe --

Shurikens glittered swiftly in starlight. The two Dragons dangling hostages dropped them suddenly, clutching their wrists. She gasped, but the hostages were heaved back over the railing a second later, propelled to safety by strong green arms.

She had a second to admire their beautifully coordinated teamwork. Where, where did they get such skill and efficiency? She remembered their Sensei; just an old rat, no taller than a child, but one whose wisdom and fatherly love radiated from every word. Not measured out by the stinting crumb.

Hun lumbered towards the railing, ready to make the rescuers pay.

That was her cue. She ran forward swiftly, drawing her swords.

Love. How could you miss what you'd never known?

"Stop, Hun!"

The huge man paused; turned ominously. The animosity on his face was quite genuine. "What was that?"

"Let the innocents go." She crossed her blades, trembling with the enormity of what she was about to do. "Your quarrel is not with them."

"Good, Karai," a familiar voice called softly from somewhere in the shadows. "Very good, my child."

She froze, her mind blank. He was here... he had come... watching, waiting, to see if she would fail him...

"I take orders from no ninja broad!" Hun rushed her like a freight train, and she knew he meant to kill her. She tried to sidestep out of reach, but he backhanded her easily over the railing.

A lightshow exploded inside of her head. One hand grazed metal, but her limbs wouldn't obey her commands. She felt herself slip past the point of no return, and then she was falling.

* * *

Whiplash yanked her head over heels, and the world came to a screeching halt. A shuriken worked its way out of her pouch and fell down, down, down, into the glittering darkness... but she herself stayed where she was.

"Karai, take my hand."

Who...?

She could feel it now, an iron grip on her ankle. "Hurry!"

It was Leonardo, one arm wrapped around the railing while the other supported her entire weight. His skin looked paler than usual, even in the twilight.

Not him. Not Leonardo. Anyone, anyone but Leonardo...

She forced her mind to work, to process one thought at a time. Hun had hit her. She had probably blacked out for a second. Hence the disorientation. Leonardo was strong, but he could not hold on forever.

She gathered her strength, then curled in a mighty burst of effort, arcing against gravity to reach for Leo's wrist. Her ankle slipped free, and there was a sickening instant of lurch before he caught her hands and pulled her up over the railing.

"You are... too kind, Leonardo," she managed shakily, trying to catch her breath. The other turtles had engaged the Dragons; Donatello had evidently been keeping the heat off Leonardo while she'd dangled over the hungry maw of death.

Much too kind.

One of her swords lay nearby. She retrieved it slowly, observed its reflective, mirror-like blades as though checking herself for makeup flaws, looked at Leonardo questioningly. He only watched her, making no move to defend himself. Always giving her another chance...

"Now, Karai," the unseen voice whispered. "Prove to me your great worth, once and for all!"

She squeezed her eyes shut, holding to the sound of that voice, marveling even now at the power it wielded.

"Do it!"

She tossed her sword up and caught it in an underhand grip, then stepped and flung it with all her might.

The blade rang true, slicing hungrily into Shredder's midsection.

His howl of pain and fury split the heavens. The fighting stopped as the mighty Shredder staggered into view from the shadows, clutching his skewered abdomen while Dragons and Turtles alike gaped in shock.

"For the blood of my father and mother," Leo heard Karai hiss.

Then she was gone, vanishing down the stairwell into the darkness.

* * *

"And I used to think French was tough," Chaplin muttered, scrolling through the enigmatic Japanese characters onscreen. Sure, the software did its best, but much of the translated text was rather ambiguous. Fine-tuning the results until they actually made sense was slow going, but the only alternative was getting human help... and he couldn't exactly ask Karai when he hadn't told her about burning a second disc for himself. "Okay, translating paragraph two..."

I planning the mistake with all the smart of a game boss.

He popped his brand-new kanji dictionary software CD into the computer and scratched his head, not sure where to start. Planning might be the wrong tense, but it was hard to tell without context. Mistake, he discovered, could also be rendered accident. "'I planned the accident with...'"

... all the smart of a game boss.

"That can't be right. Game bosses are dumber than a sack of rocks." He thought back to his Metroid days. "Buff, maybe, but dumb."

Smart -- cunning, perhaps? Game boss... game master... chess master?

I planned the accident with all the cunning of a chess master.

"Which doesn't make a lot of sense either," he mused aloud. "A planned accident isn't much of an accident, is it?"

He exhaled thoughtfully and looked at the ceiling. "Okay. He planned the accident with all the cunning of a chess master. Who planned it? Some egowhack named Cherelle. What accident?"

He rubbed his eyes, tired from straining over intricate kanji. "No idea. But it must have something to do with Karai, or the file wouldn't have been under her name. Maybe it'll be explained in the next paragraph..."

He chafed his arms and grabbed a nearby sweater. Was it just him, or was it getting chilly in here? He always closed and locked his windows after dark.

Well, maybe winter was coming early. He tried to minimize the original text's window, missed and closed the window instead. He swore and changed CDs, flexing tense shoulder muscles as the newly inserted disc hummed in the drive.

A growl from his midsection set him rummaging through his freezer. He was microwaving a TV dinner when he heard a knock at his apartment door. Surprised, he left the food on the kitchenette counter. Who could it be at this hour? He didn't have many visitors, so long as he paid his rent on time. He considered ignoring the interruption until it occurred to him that it just might be Karai.

He had the door open two seconds later, but there was no one... only a note taped to the doorbell button.

The Foot will be after you. 'Get out of Dodge.'

There was no signature, but he recognized the painfully precise handwriting. At least, he thought he did. A guy could dream, couldn't he?

A minute later the actual contents of the note sank in. He dashed inside and stopped, speechless.

His third-story apartment window was wide open, curtains flapping in the breeze. His CD disc drive was open. And empty.

His Pentium tower had been shish-kebabbed on a wicked looking Tanto.

Nerd he might be, but Chaplin also knew when to cut his losses. He was packed and out of the state before dawn.

* * *

Leonardo felt almost daring as he gazed down at Shredder HQ from his perch. Never in daylight had he deliberately made himself vulnerable to prying eyes. True, it would take an astute observer to spot him through all the intervening laundry lines and balcony railings.

He was counting on that.

He heard the footsteps first, softened by habit rather than intentional concealment.

"It is dangerous for you to be here, Leonardo."

He turned. Smiled just slightly. She was wearing a casual outfit, pretty and feminine; deep blue slacks with a stylish rich maroon shirt. No Foot symbol. No swords. "I could say the same for you."

"Yes," she acknowledged somberly.

They were quiet then, savoring the moment. No tension. No fear. No suspicions. Her face was drawn and pale, and he sensed the aftershock of some great betrayel in her aura... he doubted she had slept anytime recently.

But there was a new air of peace and determination about her. Somehow, Leo sensed, Karai had exorcised her greatest demons.

He rejoiced with a silent, unselfish fervor known only to the great of heart. The world was dark, but a chain had been broken before his eyes. He asked nothing more.

"You are going then." It wasn't a question.

"I must." She looked out at the city, away from Foot HQ. "Besides, I might... there might be..."

He caught the flicker of hope in her eyes. "Family?"

"Yes." Her face glowed for one unguarded instant. "I wish to travel to Japan and learn of my family. My parents. I may even have blood relatives still living."

He followed her gaze across the city. "Will you come back?"

He sensed her mulling over the idea, trying it from all angles. "Perhaps." She looked at the Shredder's lair once again. Whether or not he'd survived last night, her life wasn't worth a red cent in the shadow of his headquarters. "But it will be a long time, if ever."

"I can hope, can't I?" Leo extended a hand. "May your path be blessed, wherever it leads."

She regarded the hand somberly before clasping it; looked him full in the face. "I owe you my life, Leonardo. My sword will never be raised against you or yours. On the blood of my parents, I swear it."

He felt a great weight ease in his spirit. "That's good to know, Karai."

"Karai is what Shredder called me." She smiled. "But my true name is Nozomi."

He smiled in return. "It's a good name, Nozomi."

Nozomi... "hope."

A good name indeed.

-The End

For Leo, who deserved better!

Nozomi: Japanese for "hope" or "desire." 希望

Disclaimer: This story was not created, acknowledged or endorsed by Mirage. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are registered trademarks of Mirage Studios USA. Bitter Redemption itself is fan domain and may be freely recopied and archived.

Author's Notes: I was disappointed in the way Karai's character arc was handled in the 2003 TMNT cartoon series. I felt like she never got to truly be herself; that she was damned before setting foot in the series; that her later actions were inconsistent with her earlier ones, and that it was unfair to set fans hoping for a crisis of truth which never materialized. (Yes, real life is full of disappointments -- but that's why I watch cartoons!)

There was also the related question of what the real Karai (the one that has a personality beyond "must serve Shredder, duh duh duh") does in her spare time. Does she like pizza? Cookies and milk? Does she play Mortal Kombat, or prefer Final Fantasy VI? Would she like to have a stash of fluffy teenzines in her closet? Is her favorite color black, red or blue? Has she ever hugged a teddy bear?

Hence, in writing this, I bent my 'respect the canon' fanfiction rule, because the canon (IMHO) did not 'respect the character(s).' Hope you enjoyed! Anyone interested in running with the idea, adding the Turtles' POV, etc is welcome to do so.

p.s. If I made any glaring mistakes with the Japanese, I'd be grateful for a heads-up! The translation bit was partly inspired by ludicrous Babelfish results but was otherwise pure improvisation.