Impure

Master Splinter looked at the rusted chandelier of which only three of the five bulbs that dully lit his room up the room functioned properly. He had tried to think back to a time to when all five had worked, and unfortunately it had been too long for him to remember. He had lived a long life. A long life true, but not a full one. Splinter dwelled on this thought for quite some time as he could relate to the chandelier in his room, which was not at it's full potential. Missing pieces, broken pieces. Like a puzzle almost complete but he couldn't find the finishing corner. "It had been lost long ago." Splinter whispered to himself. Maybe the last piece never existed to begin with.

Master Splinter opened his wardrobe, and sifted to the back. There, covered in mothballs and aged dust hung an old white ceremonial Kimono Usagi had gifted Splinter for one of many birthdays. It was the only decent and most clean piece of clothing he ever possessed, and which he never once worn. Splinter worried about his sons and to what would become of them without his guidance and love. He felt that they were prepared to handle what came next, or at least he forced himself to think such thoughts. If there was anything he was proud of in his life, it was his sons. He knew they would fulfill their own legacy, their own destiny.

Impure thoughts had led him to this moment. Impure thoughts of Leonardo. Master Splinter was a humble being, however even the most humble have the capacity to play "favorites." Splinter took no lovers in his earlier days, and he was always akin to young Leo. He was smarter, faster, and precise with his decision making even if the others did not agree with some of those decisions. He also knew how to make hard decisions for the group. "These are the true qualities of a leader." Splinter thought. Splinter also knew how to make hard decisions. But the hardest was not to act on his most impure thoughts.

These impure thoughts had haunted him since Leonardo came of age. He knew it was wrong, he felt it was, yet he could not stop himself during his lonely nights. No one knew of his "ailment," and Splinter was to the point of acting upon his urges. Splinter was stronger than his sons. He was their father, but he was also their master. He could take what he wanted if he so pleased. "What am I thinking!?" Splinter exclaimed in a tone higher than his usual voice. He had to ignore and suppress these thoughts, an action of which he was far too used to at this point in his life.

Splinter had all in order, the ceremonial incense, a valued tanto, and his Kimono. He dressed himself in the most meticulous way, making sure the Kimono fit nice and snug, and then took a long deep stare down at the floor. "This will be the last place I stand, and the last I will kneel." he thought as he began to bend his knees, slowly sitting down. He sat in silence, well almost complete silence if it was not for his Shishi-Odoshi in his small makeshift garden in his room. However, the sound was soothing. Water filling up the bamboo, being poured and then resetting. The sound of the bamboo resetting to it's original position was like a life obtaining the chance to start over to perfect its prior mistakes. A chance Master Splinter wish he had. The sound was soothing, comforting to Master Splinter in this moment.

The repetition of this sound also reminded that time will go on after he commits the ceremonial Harakiri or "Seppuku." His sons were out on a supply run. Another unusual day for them, or unusual for their specific lifestyle at least. Splinter thought "A peaceful quest." The thought lingered in his mind for a few moments. "What were Leonardo and Donatello arguing about this time?" "How much of a nuisance was Michelangelo to the group today?" "Maybe Donatello is being too technical on the prices of food?" Donatello always did have a fine assortment of coupons that he saved.

Splinter snapped back into the current moment like an angry whip. He had to clear his mind for the upcoming event. Master Splinter had hid the planning of this ceremony from his sons for too long to not follow through. He was tired of the void that filled him. A void he knew he had to stop himself from filling before it was too late. The thoughts were like a disease ravaging the mind into comitance. He was ready to give in, ready to rest early, ready to face whatever oblivion that awaited him. The only feature missing from this ceremony was the kaishakunin. No one was there to deliver the final blow to Master Splinter after the first step of Seppuku. Splinter cleared his mind and remembered reading of "jūmonji giri" or the "crossed-shaped-cut" version of Seppuku. Splinter knew this would be a far more taxing process without the Kaishakunin, especially after the first cut.

Splinter's mind was finally clear and all that he could focus on was the Tanto knife in front of him. Master Splinter gave his chandelier one last look as if it had said something, then in a swift movement he gently gripped his ivory decorated Tanto in a vertical position and began to unsheathe the sharp metal from the white cloth surrounding it. It was a peaceful and welcoming sound.