Title: To Protect a Wayward Child
Author: Raykushi
Disclaimer: Rights to TMNT belong to Nickelodeon and others. This is a fan piece only and no monetary gain comes from its publication.
Incarnation: 2k12 TV show
Summary: Hamato Yoshi was once a man. And then he was not.
Rating/Warnings: Rated PG for some blood.
Word Count: 3,868
To Protect a Wayward Child
Monday's child is fair of face.
Tuesday's child is full of grace.
Wednesday's child is full of woe.
Thursday's child has far to go...
Hamato Yoshi had a tail now. He also had ears that seemed to swivel on their own accord, moving to catch distant sounds of men and cars on the street. And whiskers that somehow seemed to be telling him from which direction fresh air flowed, a feat he didn't understand quite yet.
None of which he would consider easy to grow accustomed to, and yet it all paled in comparison to the fear he felt looking down at four small, green bodies pressed against his fur. Fur...
Moments ago, Hamato Yoshi had behaved shamefully.
The men, the strange twins who spoke in broken English, were gone. Doubled over, body wracked with pain, Yoshi forced himself to move. He took refuge in a huge drainage pipe at the back of the alley, an open mouth leading to an abandoned construction site behind the pet store Yoshi had just left.
The darkness within the pipe and the smell of earth was somehow comforting in this situation that was anything but. His clawed hands clenched against his chest as his eyes processed information he could barely comprehend. Tail. Ears. Whiskers. Fur.
He glanced back at the alley. Yes, the men were gone. The alleyway was empty, save for four small shapes moving in the puddle of green. He realized with a start that it was the turtles he had just purchased, now grown to the size of toddlers. The green glowing substance that had splattered from the canister had changed them, just as it had changed him.
Yoshi turned away and stepped further into the drainage pipe, peering through the shadows to the construction site at the other end. He had to find a doctor, his frightened mind told him. Or a place to hide, his instincts screamed. Unfortunately he couldn't take the warped pets with him now. He had to care for himself, he had to contemplate what had just happened. Surely someone from the pet shop would find them soon and do something appropriate with them.
One of the turtles cried.
Yoshi froze.
The sound hammered against his ears like his own pounding heartbeat. In an instant he was transported back to a night filled with fire and heat. A night he heard his daughter's cries rise up above the crackling of the eager blaze that engulfed his home, the sound telling his stricken heart that he could not reach her. And then the weak cries had petered out, leaving nothing but the sound of the hungry flames.
Slowly Yoshi turned back to the alleyway.
They stood unsteadily on two legs, their tiny arms reaching out, grasping at the air for any kind of support. One had overbalanced and fallen on the hard concrete, which had started the urgent cries that were now growing in volume.
Yoshi turned away again. Whatever was wrong with them, he could do nothing. He was a simple man, a lonely man, and this was a responsibility far and above dropping dehydrated food pellets into a glass tank. There were men out there better equipped to deal with this nightmare. Scientists. Biologists.
And yet the image of his daughter would not leave his mind. For months he had spent so much effort to block the painful past, to concentrate on surviving in this strange country. Now the memories were back to wrack his brain like piercing claws. The shrill outcry of the turtles in the alley was growing louder as the other three took up the sound.
Yoshi darted out of the pipe, into the alley. His changed body hugged the ground as he moved through the shadows, then he forced himself to stand upright. On the sidewalk at the far end of the alley people walked, went about their daily lives. Something he might never do again. But for now he grabbed the four turtles and, with a combination of carrying and dragging the small bodies, returned quickly to the shelter of the drainage pipe.
Quiet now, they pressed close against him, clutching his legs for stability. Two on each side, breathing noisily in the enclosed space. Four sets of bright eyes looked all around: at the alley, at the dirt and sludge under their feet, at him. Intelligent eyes that were alive with curiosity and fascination. Somehow, like a fairy tale from the country he had left, they were not animals anymore but children instead. And he had almost left them behind. It burned under Yoshi's skin, that he had behaved so shamefully. His ghosts would never let him sleep again if he would have done such a thing.
Yoshi knew he had to find a place of safety for himself, and for them.