The Sun Comes Out At Midnight
Everyone, forgive me for my extremely long absence.....:( My bad, my bad!
Today, Miss Psychic. ^^ And thank you.
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Quote:
"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done;
it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known."
- Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
"There was....a small willow tree in the park that I pointed out to you?"
The rat blinked, still feeling slightly nauseous before managing a slight nod, his mouth still very dry.
"Y-Yes. But I do not know, I regret to say, if it still exists."
Yoshi's onyx eyes twinkled.
"No matter. Go and find it. There, will your answer lie."
Splinter slowly shook his head, the panicky buzz continuing in his ear, like an invisible swarm of hornets.
"I can't leave the little ones-!"
Yoshi simply shook his head.
"To fix the tangled skein, you must make more damage to properly heal," he said quietly, penetrating eyes never leaving Splinter's.
"Else, what is left but a gaping scar, in-cleverly stitched with awkward fingers? And a wound is a safe haven for infection, Hannaken."
The rat paused, feeling like tearing the fur from his body in a frantic frenzy of indecision.
Torn between his indecision-!
What if Yoshi decided to leave in his absence? What is Yoshi had NEVER even been here, and the rat had simply cracked from strain and
was simply hallucinating?
Or what if-
Splinter was abruptly startled as he felt a gentle tap at his shoulder. Master Yoshi was clasping both, face imploring.
"In spirit, I dwell here tonight," the man said quietly, burning gaze never leaving Splinter's face.
"Your little ones will not be under any danger but that of their own spirits tonight. Go, Hannaken. I will not leave you-nor the kami."
Splinter stole a quick glance at the turtles' motionless bodies, feeling a lump rise in his throat. Somewhat reluctantly, he turned to face his
Master again.
"Hannaken. Trust in me as you once did."
And Splinter managed a small nod, feeling his eyes sting as he did so.
* * *
The rat grasped his black scarf, and carelessly wrapped it around himself as he drew his cloak around himself tighter. He turned around,
breathing awkward and heavy.
"Master Yoshi, I-"
His heart sank.
No one was there.
All was still, save for what sounded like Donatello's gentle breathing.
Shaking his head once, and with an impatient fist-swipe at his eyes, and one last glance at the children, he hurried out of their home as
the beckoning shadows-crystalline drops still falling from the indigo sky-summoned him.
All was still, save for the wind.
