Ninjutsu

Leonardo explains his love affair with the martial arts. Rating for adult situations, but it's not bad.

Just brainstorming. Decided to go with a different idea, but this was already written. It may evolve later, but for now it's just a narrative. I don't own Leonardo. Please don't sue me.

Leonardo lay on his back, his head resting on the soft grass, his eyes closed. He breathed deep, and took in the scent of the woods, so unlike that of inner-city New York. It was times like this that he never wanted to go back. But he was only visiting this virtual paradise, and he knew that sooner or later, the innocent bloodshed in the city would call his name. It was only a matter of time.

On his chest was the head of a woman, attached to a beautiful body that he had seen more of than any of his brothers knew. Only Master Splinter knew the depth of his relationship with LeAnne, and he did not object. It had been nearly a year since she showed up in their lives, and it was as if she were one of the family now.

Leo smiled faintly as he brushed his fingers through her hair, letting her know that he was awake. It was no surprise to her. She had learned long ago that silence and stillness were as much a part of Leonardo as his daily training and his constant stive for excellence. It was one of the things that so interested her about him.

"Leonardo?"

"Mmm?"

"You remember back a while ago when you said you would teach me Japanese?"

"Now?" he laughed, jumping ahead in the conversation.

She smiled and turned her head toward him, peeking through a wall of hair. "Do you remember?"

He considered that for a moment. Where was she going with this? "Yes, I remember," he finally answered, determining that he was just going to have to wait and see.

"Do you also remember that you told me you'd teach me anything?"

That thought made him pause. He opened his eyes and looked down at her. He saw only blonde hair, and smiled as he pushed it aside gently and met her eyes. "What did you have in mind?" he asked suspiciously.

"I want you to teach me martial arts."

He cringed inwardly. He'd had a feeling this topic would arise sooner or later. She had always been somewhat fascinated with his training. He sighed and sat up, thinking she would sit up as well. Instead, she lay back on the grass and smiled up at him innocently, as if she'd just asked him to get her tennis shoes for her. "LeAnne, I don't know if that's such a good idea," he mumbled.

"You said anything," she reminded him, smiling slyly.

He considered that. "Yeah, and I meant it. But I don't think you realize what you're asking. It's not just an exercise, LeAnne, like biking or running. It's a lifestyle."

"I know that," she answered. She was surprised that he could think she wouldn't, with as much time as she spent with him and his brothers.

"I know you do," he sighed, brushing the side of her face lightly. "You know, but you don't understand."

"Explain it to me, then," she prodded, folding her arms under her head.

Oh boy, he thought to himself. Just dig the hole deeper, Leo...

He lay down on his side, one arm propping his head up, the other around LeAnne's waist. "My training affects every step that I take, every breath of air I breathe. It never goes away, never leaves me. I can't get away from it if I try. It runs in my blood, LeAnne. And it's as essential to me as food and water."

She shot him a disbelieving look. "So then, if something happened to your legs and you were crippled, you're saying you would die?" she laughed, sarcastic.

He considered the thought seriously. "Yes," he finally answered.

She smiled and shook her head, as if regarding a child who was going to ride his bike to the moon. "I don't believe that."

He grinned at her. "Because you don't understand it," he whispered, "just like I said. But that doesn't make it any less true."

Instead of getting his point across, he only confused her more. He sighed and brushed his fingers over the side of her face, trying to think of an example to give her. Finally, he placed a rigid hand up and down between her breasts. "It's like cuting off this half of your body and totally replacing it with something new," he tried.

"That doesn't sound pleasant," she observed.

He shrugged, and pulled his hand away. "I can't think of any other way to describe what ninjutsu does to you. Or what it can do, rather, if you let it."

"What if you don't let it?"

"Then you'll go through the motions like it's an aerobic workout and you'll never understand it. You'll never be good at it. You'll never become a true ninja no matter how much you learn."

"Why?"

"Because you have to let it control you. You have to let go of that half of your body," he gestured, referring back to the example.

She considered that for a moment. "So what gets taken away?"

He'd been expecting that question. "Your right to make mistakes. Your ability to turn your back on something because you're tired or afraid. Instinct. Humanity."

She stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"Humanity is motivated by survival. Survival is mandated by instinct. Eat, sleep, procreate..."

"You're a ninja and you do all three," she interrupted.

"Yes, but I could go without any one of them for a great deal longer than most people," he mumbled. "Instinct also tells you how to react to your surroundings. Run away when you're scared; stop doing something if it hurts. In submitting to the martial arts, you take away that instinct. It's gone. You replace it with something else."

"What do you replace it with?"

"Training."

She shook her head slightly. Maybe another example would work. He closed his eyes and thought for a minute. "If you're standing in the street and, say, a sign falls from a building... If you look up and see it, you will run to get out of the way. You won't think about it and wonder if you should run. It's instinct."

"And you wouldn't run?" she challenged.

"No."

"Then you're stupid."

He laughed quietly. "Let me put it this way. I wouldn't instinctively run."

"What would you do?"

"Stop, look around, see if anyone is in danger. Based on what I see, I make a decision and react."

"And by that time, you resemble a bug on a windshield," she mumbled.

He laughed again. "No. That all happens in about the same amount of time it takes your brain to tell your legs to run. It's very fast."

She was quiet as she thought about that. "Everything moves really fast in the martial arts, doesn't it?"

"Well..." he hesitated. "I wouldn't say it like that. It's just a different instinct."

"Instead of what, fear?"

"Yes."

"So you don't feel fear? Ever?"

"I didn't say that," he smiled. She waited for an explanation. He looked down at his fingers as they traced designs on the back of her hand. "Fear is a mechanism instinctively used to protect us from pain. But I've killed those instincts. I use fear as just another tool to tell me what's going on around me. Whether or not I'm in danger."

"And you don't react to it?"

"I don't let it motivate me, no. I have control over everything that motivates me. I feel fear, I evaluate it, I decide if I'm going to react. And if I decide not to react, I make the fear go away."

"How?"

"Same with pain," he continued, ignoring her question. There was no answer he could give her to that one. "But there's something to be said for the ability to just stop doing something because it hurts. And you need to consider how much that means to you before you start talking about ninjutsu training. It's a lot of responsibility."

"And you can make the pain go away like you can the fear?"

He hesitated. She'd caught him off guard with that question. "There are... coping methods," he finally answered.

She smiled knowingly. "So you can't," she interpreted.

He cocked his head and shot her a pathetic look. "LeAnne, if I choose to keep my hand in a fire, it's gonna hurt. But the fact that I have the ability to make that choice is what separates me from someone whose reflex action will make them pull back before they even realize that it hurts. Ever touch a hot pan on the stove?"

"So you wouldn't pull away?" she shot back.

"My body does nothing unless I distinctly tell or allow it to."

"That's stupid," she mumbled. "It's dangerous."

"No, and yes."

She stared at him for a moment. He'd told her nothing to explain his fascination with something that was so overbearing. It sounded more like he was a prisoner than anything. But she knew he enjoyed every minute of his training. As did his brothers, though to a lesser extent. Why?

"So tell me then, ninja," she grinned. "What's the benefit?"

He smiled. "Strength. Independence. Knowing that nobody can control you because they can't make you feel anything you don't want to. Emotions are fragile, LeAnne. They can be used against you very easily. But if you have total control over them..."

"Does that mean you're cold? That you feel no emotion?"

He shook his head, pulling his hand from hers. "No. It means I have very strict rules on when and with whom I allow them to have free reign."

He brushed her hair away from her face. "I am the least-open book you'll ever meet. Yet I'd tell you anything; I'd show you anything. I allow my emotions to do what they want while I'm with you because I trust you. There are very few people I can say that about."

"Your brothers?" she guessed.

"Sometimes," he admitted. "It depends. There are other factors there that you might not see."

"Like what?"

"An image I need to keep," he whispered. "Not because of pride, but because it's what's needed and what's expected of me."

"Splinter?" she tried again.

"Yes. I trust him unconditionally."

She thought about that for a minute. She had no trouble believing it. "What else?" she probed.

He smiled, a faraway look suddenly sweeping over his eyes. "I love the feeling," he whispered. "Being more alive and aware than most people could ever dream of being."

"What do you mean?"

"Did you know that you have a sixth sense, LeAnne?" He paused, and reconsidered that. "Well, I guess it's not really a separate sense. It more a concept that amplifies all your senses."

She looked at him, totally lost. "Huh?"

"The Japanese call it Haragei," he continued. "Most all people have it. And they've probably felt it at some point in their lives. But they never thought to pursue it, or never knew how." He smiled at her confused expression. "It's that feeling you get when somebody's watching you."

"Oh, that," she grinned, relaxing as her mind caught up with what he was saying.

"But it's so much more, too," he grinned. "That's only a sight aspect of it."

"What do you mean?"

He pulled away and turned on his stomach, propping himself up both elbows, leaning forward eagerly. "It's the ability so see somebody who'se behind you, to anticipate their attack before they ever make a move. To hear something but not even realize it... and then have the entire conversation play out like a movie during meditation. To feel your surroundings in a pitch black room and know exactly where everything is. To smell the fear of your enemies. To taste danger when it gets too close. To be aware of things you otherwise never would've known."

"You can do that?" she questioned, eyebrows raised.

He nodded. "You ask me how it would kill me, not to be a part of the martial arts anymore. Imagine having all five senses stolen away from you at once. All you can see is shadows, all you can hear is murmurs. That's what it would be like for me to lose Haragei."

She studied him for a moment. "And Haragei is contingent upon the martial arts?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it's only made possible through the training and dicipline that ninjutsu instills."

She stared up at him. He moved over her and placed his palms on either side of her face. "I would teach you," he breathed. "But not if you weren't aware of everything you would be sacrificing for it. It would change your entire life, LeAnne. The way you think, the way you move... and you would have to allow it to do that. You can't make that decision at the drop of a hat."

She stared at him for a long time, then smiled. "Let me think about it," she whispered.

He nodded, and kissed her.