Splinter sighed in content. His four five-year-old turtle tots were fast asleep. He loved his sons dearly but when you're given the task to care for four rowdy boys, you tend to relish in the rare moments where there is complete and utter silence. Or as silent as an abandoned subway station can be. On this particular night, it happened to raining – pouring in fact. The rainwater was rushing down the drains as fast as it was loud. The roar of the water was so loud, that the rat was surprised that none of his sons had been woken up by it.
He remembered the last time he had been out in the rain. It wasn't a pleasant memory, but he remembered it nonetheless.
"Traitor!" Oroku Saki caught Hamato Yoshi by surprise. He was on his way home from the dojo when Saki had jumped out of nowhere with his gauntlets out and ready for battle. Luckily, Yoshi had his katana with him. "You knew I loved her! You knew, but you went after her anyway!"
"I loved her as well Saki, as I still do," Yoshi tried his best not to hurt the man who once was his friend, even though his opponent had the intent to kill him. "If you truly loved her, you'd let Tang Shen be with who she wants to be!" It was beginning to rain, but the water did little to cool Saki's temper.
"No!" Saki lunged for Yoshi's chest but Yoshi was fast enough to block it with his katana blade. "She doesn't know what she wants! You filled her head with the delusion that you will give her love, that you will give her what she needs!" Saki was growing more angry and more dangerous with every passing minute. "But you won't, because you can't give her what she needs!"
"And what does she need old friend?" asked Yoshi. The rain was falling faster now, and Yoshi was having a harder time dodging Saki's attacks.
"ME!" cried Saki. He ran towards his target, slashing his gauntlets but only succeeding in tearing Yoshi's gi. Yoshi dodged and blocked every attack which only resulted in Saki's growing anger. But Saki managed to bring Yoshi down by sweeping his legs from underneath him. Yoshi fell, and dropped his katana. Saki held his gauntlet against his throat. He could end his life with a simple flick of his wrist.
"Go on then," Yoshi said, "kill me. But know that even with my death, Tang Shen will never love you. Nobody will love a man with no honor."
"I have plenty of honour"
"You've harassed Tang Shen when she didn't respond to your advances, you crashed and made a scene at our wedding, and now you wish to kill me for the love of my wife. How much honour do you really think you have?"
Saki hesitated and Yoshi took his chance. He kicked him in the stomach and rolled over to grab his katana blade. He sliced his katana with the intent of blocking another attack, but his opponent was closer than he expected.
"Gah!" Saki cried out. He clutched his arm, crimson blood leaking between his fingers.
Yoshi was horrified at what he had done. "Saki! I am so sorry! I-" His apology was cut short.
"You speak of honour, and yet you pull a dirty trick like this!" Saki gestured to his injured arm, his blood dripping onto the ground and being washed away by the pouring rain.
"I-it was an accident! I-I…" He trailed off, "We need to get you to a hospital!"
"Ha!" Saki suddenly grinned but his face was void of humour. "You'll live another day, but remember this Hamato Yoshi: You will pay, and I will kill you." He began to walk away.
"Saki!" Yoshi called out to him. He wanted to tell Saki that he really didn't mean to hurt him. But when he turned back at him with that malicious expression, Yoshi's brain went numb with shock. Was this really the man he once called his best friend?
"And don't worry about Tang Shen!" called Saki, "If she can love you, then I'm certain that she will love me, 'a man with no honour!'" And with that statement Oroku Saki ran into the night, leaving Yoshi alone, soaked to the bone with his katana and his thoughts. It was the last time he saw Saki before…
"Daddy?" Splinter was shaken by a small voice. It was his youngest son, Michelangelo. Splinter was so wrapped up in his memories, that he didn't even hear his son come in.
"Yes, Michelangelo?" Splinter asked. He motion for Mikey to come sit on his lap, which he did. It wasn't uncommon for the youngest turtle to come to him when he couldn't sleep. Especially on nights like this. Mikey took his father's face in his small hands.
"Why are you crying?" His son then began to wipe away the tears that he hadn't noticed until now. Splinter knew he shouldn't be, but he felt ashamed. His sons depended on him to be strong, to be their rock and assure them that everything is fine, but here he was, letting his baby boy wipe away his tears.
"Daddy is a little sad Michelangelo," Answered Splinter. The small turtle had dried up all the tears and was now using his chubby little hands to stroke his father's snout.
"Why?" Splinter didn't know how to answer Michelangelo's innocent question. He just sat there, trying to come with a valid answer when his son came up with his own guess. "Is it the rain?"
Splinter was shocked at how close to the truth Mikey's guess had been. "I…" He wasn't sure of what to say, "Yes my son, it's the rain." He sighed in defeat of the painful memory that had brought on this exchange.
Michelangelo's hands left his father's face as he wrapped his arms around his neck. "Don't be sad Daddy. The rain won't hurt you. I won't let it."
Splinter let himself smile at his child's statement, as he wrapped his own arms around Michelangelo's shell. "I know you won't, Michelangelo. Thank you."