Not every chapter will be in journal format. This is more to help introduce everyone as properly as I can.

September 30th 20xx

My name is Hamato Yoshi. Some also know me as Master Splinter. It was a name that I gained some time ago from my bride as I taught her self-defense martial arts. It pains me to know I will never hear that nickname ever again. I am not usually the type to journal out my thoughts and feelings in this way. But for the first time in a long while, I find that I am without a confidant to speak with. Therefore, I feel that this may be the best way to get my thoughts. I suppose I should consider myself lucky to have found this journal hidden away in the station. It seems to be a bit worn, the pages yellow, and wet from the leaks. But, I know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides this, I have something much more important to speak about.

After my little Miwa was taken from me, I never planned to be a father again. I didn't think I could ever love someone as much as I could love her. But, things have changed in a way that I never dreamed would be possible. As of yesterday, it would seem I am a father of four boys. Four, small humanoid turtles, that have been mutated in the same attack that I was changed in. These hands which I can't recognize as my own are still taking some getting used to. It's not very easy to write when I have fewer fingers then I am used to. But I am managing well enough.

I am grateful to have found a home for us in this abandoned subway station. It's not a very clean place, nor is it ideal. But we shall manage for the time being. No one comes through these tunnels, so, for the time being, we are safe. I fear we may still be being hunted after. I do not want to have to put these turtles in danger when I am the one that Saki still wants. But I cannot leave them. So, the only option I have is to raise them as though they were my own.

I have named them: Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo. Their names are tributes in a matter of speaking, to artists from the Renaissance. While they are still young, I can see that they already have begun to develop personalities and temperaments of their own. I hope to continue to help them develop these personalities, and teach them as they grow.

Leonardo seems to be the eldest of the four. He is not the biggest, but there is a look of maturity and wisdom in his eyes that I simply could not overlook. He acts as a mother, holding his frightened brothers when they were first discovered. Concern seems to be his default expression, which I cannot blame him for. They are only about a day old, and already they have been through so much. I am grateful that he seems to have their best interests in mind, and I hope this continues as they grow older. I have no doubt in my mind that he is the eldest, and he cares deeply for them.

Raphael is the biggest turtle, and he is the darkest in the color. I feel that he comes next in age based on both size, and strength. I offered him my finger as he began to fall asleep this evening. His grip was extremely promising to me, and I hope we can utilize this in the future. Heaven knows he and his brothers will need to learn to protect themselves in the future if Saki has not given up. But I can't help but worry. He seems to have a temper and has no qualms with climbing over his brothers to push them down to get where he needs to be. We may need to work on this.

Donatello seems to be the most slender, and the palest in color. While Leonardo had the most intelligent eyes, Donatello is the most observant, and calm. His brothers cried for most of our first night together, overwhelmed and hungry. But Donatello was silent. His eyes were everywhere at once, taking in as much as he could. To me, the tunnel and the station were full of dull colors, with nothing much to observe. But Donatello seemed to see something that I did not. Possibilities perhaps, shooting past like falling stars. He will grow to be a wise child, I know it.

Finally, little Michelangelo. Out of all his brothers, he is the tiniest, and his small face is sprinkled with freckles. I must admit, he is the easiest to tell apart because of this. He looks to be the youngest, as his grip is the weakest, and the most sensitive. He cried the longest that first night. But, in some ways, he reminds me of what it was like to raise Miwa. He was quick to smile he first saw me, and nestle into my arms. Trusting, kind, and sensitive. I feel he will grow to be a kind young turtle and will understand when not to fight.

Fight...

Yes, I must teach my turtles to fight, as much as I do not wish to do so. They must learn to protect themselves in case Saki ever finds them. I won't let them be taken from me. Not this time. I shall be their sensei. If they will allow it, perhaps I shall be their father figure as well. I'm not sure if I am capable of raising these four by myself. But the least I can do is try. They deserve as much. None of this situation was their fault. They deserve a better home and a better life. All I can do now is give them the best life that I can. I pray that they will come to understand how much I care for them and that I only want the best for them.

I will do all that I can for them. I won't let anything happen to them. Not again.

Hamato Yoshi

After taking a moment to stare at what he had written, Yoshi closed his journal, and carefully set it down on the ground. He never thought this would be his life. Resting on a small lobby couch, next to an even smaller box where his turtles rest. He slid to his knees to peer into the box at his turtles, each of whom was sleeping silently. "Ah, are one of you a little stuffed up?" he mused after noticing that one of their breathing patterns was a tad congested sounding. He leaned a little closer to have a better listen, but the stuffy sound soon went away, and all was well once again. Once he was satisfied, Yoshi sat back on his knees with a chuckle.

"Still as worrisome as ever, aren't you?" he asked himself with a shake of his head. He thought back to the night after Miwa was born. As Tang Shen, his bride slept and recovered, Yoshi was up all night, simply to make sure Miwa was breathing and well. Was he about to fall into the same pattern as he had back then? His eyes never left the turtles as they slept, making sure they were well. He reached out and gently ran a hand across each of their plastrons, running his fingers along their bumpy surfaces. His fingers paused on Raphael's crack, rougher than the rest of the surface, and making his face fall. After an accident in which he was dropped, and took a terrible tumble, his plastron had been cracked. It only served as a reminder to just how truly fragile they all still were. They need him, and could not survive without him. He had to be careful, and treat them just as he had treated his own daughter.

He ran his fingers up and down the crack, mentally scolding himself for his carelessness. But it would seem this was another careless thing to do, as his touch eventually roused the baby. Raphael stirred under his hand, and opened an eye, his face fixed into a scowl. His expression seemed to demand what he was doing, and why he woke him up. Yoshi chuckled once again and began to rub gently. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry little one. Forgive me." Raphael only glared, before finally shutting his eye once again. "You remind me of myself in some ways..." he whispered. "I'd never forget that expression. It suits you more than it ever suit myself, however," Yoshi admit. He continued to rub the tough surface until he knew he was asleep. Finally, he climbed back up onto the little couch and lie down. He highly doubted he would be able to sleep. But he may as well get at least some rest. Tomorrow was another day. And he would need all the strength and energy he could get.