When Karai first found it, she thought her father had made it for her.
She found it in her room, just lying on her bed, around a month after she'd been cured of her mutation. She wouldn't have noticed it if it wasn't for how stark her new room was. Given what little she had in there, it was easy to spot big changes. The hat was homemade, woven together with dark black fabric, her favorite shade. The stiches were tight and close together so there weren't any big holes. The material was soft, not the luxurious soft, but soft enough to keep her ears warm. She would have thought it was from the store if it wasn't for the Hamato clan symbol on the front. That, she knew, was impossible to find on any market.
She was so sure her father made it because he seemed the most likely. All of her brothers had thick fat fingers, not well suited for the fine art of knitting. They also didn't seem like the type. So the next day, when she wore the hat to practice, she thanked her father first for the nice gift.
It was only when she rose from her bow that she realized that she'd been mistaken. Because her father wasn't looking at her but at her red clad brother with an expression of pride.
"Daughter," her father had said, sounding almost chocked up. "I'm afraid I am not the one you need to be thanking."
It was only then that she discovered Raphael's hidden talent of knitting. According to Mikey, he'd been at it since they were kids, after he managed to fish out a book on the topic from a dumpster. She couldn't believe it at first, couldn't believe that her burly brother who seemed to scowl at every step she took could have knitted the plethora of blankets she saw strewn around the lair. But then she caught him knitting a sweater for Casey, and well, that settled it.
"Why'd you start?" She asked him one day, perching up next to him on one of their patrols. She was wearing the hat, she wore it as much as she could these days, and it kept her ears from getting too cold in the fall night. Raph hadn't responded at first, keeping his eyes on the street, but after a second, he replied.
"Leo kept getting sick because he was cold. So I decided to learn how to make hats."
It wasn't the answer she'd be expecting. Training? Maybe. Boredom? Plausible? But concern? Now that she thought about it, it seemed obvious. She watched her brother, the one who saw her as a threat, as a danger, scan the street below them. She didn't know what she was about to ask until she asked it.
"Can you teach me?"
It wasn't until after patrol, when they'd taken down a dozen foot bots, that he said yes.
It took her awhile to catch on. Knitting took a patience that she wasn't used to, a willingness to examine her own mistakes. Her first few efforts to knit blankets and scarves turned out to look more like abstract carpets and potholders. But after awhile, she started to get the hang of it. Her stiches started to get tighter. Her work got cleaner.
When she finished her first pair of socks, she wore them around the lair for three days straight without washing them. Because socks? Socks were damn hard.
"Raphael," she asked, months later, as both of them sat on the couch knitting. The rest of the family was out, running errands, causing trouble. "Why did you knit me that hat? Back then?" When he didn't trust her. Raphael looked up from his sais which he was using to knit April a sweater and shrugged.
"You're family. You deserved to feel like it." He looked back down at his sais trying to avoid looking her in the eye. Karai looked down at her own almost complete knitting project, hand warmers for Leo, and smiled. She knew what was next on her agenda.
The next week, when Raphael entered his room after patrol, he found a red hat lying on his bed, hand-made, with the Hamato clan symbol on the front. It wasn't the best craftsmanship, some of the stiches too wide, some of them too close, but the crest in the middle was almost spot on.
The next day, when he wore his to the Dojo, him and Karai were matching.
They only made it five minutes into practice before Mikey asked for one too.
