If You Think I'm Gonna Come Up With A Title For This, You're Dead Wrong

Chapter 18

"Does it matter?" Raph took his stack, flipping through them. "What's in them?"

Leonardo leans down, picking up the only plain envelope. "Probably nothing good." Breath held, he carefully unseals it, taking out the piece of paper neatly folded inside and reading it aloud. "Answer, and you get to leave."

Raph looks over his shoulder, confirming. "Is that all?"

"That's all."

"Answer what? The letters?"

"Presumably." You pick your stack up, flipping through them

"But with what?" Donnie flips through his, looking the handwriting over closely. "We don't have paper and pen to write back."

You shrug. "Verbally? Is there a microphone anywhere?"

"Why should we do what a stupid note says?" Raph crosses his arms. "It's a note."

Leonardo begins to carefully open his first envelope. "We don't have another lead. We just have to answer carefully, if it's sensitive information."

"Or we could lie."

"Karai," you sigh, "we know nothing about the people who brought us here. Tells exist, intent exists; they could probably figure out if we were lying."

"Then what do we do if it's stuff we don't want them to know?" The hothead is wrinkling his letters from how he is holding them.

You pick one of the letters— an annoying orange color— and set the others in front of you. "We answer carefully."

The eldest brother pulls his paper out— thankfully less obnoxiously colored than his envelope, reads it. His brow furrows. "Karai," he looks again to confirm, "you don't know where we live, right?"

"If I did I would have killed o— your father already, yes."

"Then why is it asking about this?"

You glance over his shoulder at the note, which reads as follows:

Leo, you seemed very surprised about Donnie actually being open with his feelings about Y/N. Has Donnie always had a hard time expressing his feelings? (Also, what's your favorite type of tea?)

—Randomtheaterkid23AJ

You also have to read it a couple of times over, not quite sure what to make of it. It is entirely useless information to anyone that is not in your immediate social circle. There is absolutely no value in knowing, besides maybe tempting him into drinking something poisonous.

Leo seems similarly confused. "Why would someone ask this?"

"Great question." You glance over at Karai. "Do you care about what kind of tea Leo likes?"

She shrugs. "It would make me less hesitant to kill him depending on the answer."

He shifts slightly away from her. "I like kukicha when we can get it," he says carefully. "It's very pleasant."

She considers his answer for a second, sighs, relaxes. "That's a fair answer," she supposes, crossing her arms. "Not a good one, but not egregious."

"Thank you." He relaxes again. "And what's your favorite?"

"Sincha."

"Of course it is."

"What about the other part?" You fiddle with the laces on your sneakers.

"Well," he shrugs, glancing over at his taller brother, "he's just... how do I put it?"

"A pussy?"