Day 7 - Family

Once, there lived a man named Hamato Yoshi.

He had a family; a loving wife and a beautiful young girl. He cherished them dearly, and they spent many happy years together under the enchanting views of Japan.

Of course, there was no happier time in their lives than Christmas.

Each and every year, when Yoshi returned home from a hard day's work, trudging through the crystalline snow under the watchful gaze of the blooming sakura, he would be greeted by the enticing warmth in his daughter's smile as she barrelled into his legs, squealing with joy at his arrival; and by the unmistakable sense of cheer and goodwill that was in the air.

Then, with a smile upon his face, he would take hold of his daughter's tiny hands and lead her in a little dance around the small Christmas tree in the corner of the room, watching in glee as her dark eyes grew wide with wonder at the sight of the brilliant and sparkling lights that coated the branches. He would tell her about the lights; about the star on the top of the tree; and about the angels that danced around it, and, though she did not understand it, her smile would widen even further.

And in the dim light of the flickering candles, which were always close to going out at this time, the fair figure of his beloved wife would slowly float towards them and take him up in a tight embrace, and before long they would be completely lost in the moment – a happy family.

And then the fire came.

The searing hot flames had licked and burned at the foundations of his home as Yoshi stared on helplessly, the pale, lifeless body of his wife cradled in his arms, his tears drenching her now smouldering clothes. He had been too late to save her. His daughter too, was lost. Though he had not seen her, though he could not make sure, it was almost definitely the truth. She was an angel now, dancing around the stars and lights that illuminated the flaming building that she once called home, much like the angel on the tree she had adored. To think a young child could survive the roaring flames and billowing black smoke of an inferno alone was folly, and false hope was certainly not something Yoshi wanted.

Through the fire and flames, Yoshi had lost everything: his home, his honour, his wife, and even his beloved daughter.

And in that moment, the man known as Hamato Yoshi – was dead.


Splinter didn't often cry. He had built a sort of immunity for it. Ever since the fight with the Shredder, his fears and worries had reformed themselves into a barrier that could dispel any thoughts about a bleak future that lay ahead, and thus, the nightmares had ended.

The same, however, could not be said about the past.

The room around him was quiet. The air was still. There was no fire, there was no smoke, there was no danger.

But there were tears.

They were running down his cheeks like a river down a mountain. His eyes were bleary and red, his throat was as dry as sandpaper, his black fur was soaked in freezing cold sweat, and there was an aching pain in his chest: the pain of loss.

The pain of love.

The nightmares had started once again, like they did every year around Christmas. The month that was supposed to be filled with joy and happiness instead plagued him with the haunting memories of his past, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not escape from them.

However, there was something that helped.

Through his hazy vision, Splinter could just barely make out the soft glow of candlelight emanating from the lounge, and from within his jumbled mess of thoughts and sorrow he could hear the sound of cheering and laughter: his children: his family.

They were his pillar of strength. In his great moments of despair, they were the only thing that kept him going. Even if they knew nothing of the pain that still clung to his heart, they were always the ones to subdue it.

And this time, he would not lose them.


So evidently, I completely failed at doing this in twenty-five days. Nevertheless, I shall continue forth, and one day I WILL FINISH THIS.

I do not own the turtles or anything affiliated with them.