"You haven't been in a fight, kid," Raph growled, sitting Zathar down and standing in front of him, arms crossed angrily.
"Yes, I have. Master Onshi took me to a competition and I fought against a whole squad! I won, too. I'm the best ninja in this house."
"Arrogant little peacock," Don muttered to Raph as he came up, twirling his Bo.
"Let me tell you a story, kid. Once, there was a student of ninjistsu. His name was Leonardo."
"Is this your brother? If so, he probably got his shell handed to him by a thug," Zathar snorted. "Seriously. He was nearly killed by one opponent. Pathetic, if you ask me."
"No one's asking you. Leo is the best ninja in our world, and he's probably the best here. The bladed thing was strong, fast, and more importantly, it had the element of surprise. Leo wasn't armed. Considering all that, it's a miracle he's alive," Don corrected, holding his temper.
Raph took a deep breath and continued the story.
"Leonardo left one morning on a training run across the rooftops. He was running along Seventh Avenue when he was suddenly surrounded by a horde of ninjas. The Foot ninjas, that's what they're called, were all armed. There were at least a hundred. He fought valiantly and beat them all back.
"He was herded by more Foot away from his home, fighting and fighting for hours on end. Leo faced Hun, a huge giant with the strength of two bulls. Leo beat him. He faced Foot Tech, which can disappear. Leo beat them. Finally, he faced Foot Elite. Each Elite is worth one of us; now quadruple that and add into the equation that Leo had been fighting for his life for the entire day by now. The four Foot Elite attacked. Leo hung on, just barely.
"He was tossed through a window into April's apartment, broken, battered, and bleeding. You've seen him, right?" Zathar nodded. "He was like that, except with all of his limbs and no wings."
"He didn't run away," Zathar snorted.
"Didn't you hear me? He was herded. He couldn't have run; they would have killed him."
"He could have escaped. If he's such a great ninja, he could have escaped."
"I'm obviously not getting through with words. How about you watch a real fight. Don and I will fight. Not spar, not compete, fight. If we mess up, we get hurt. No practice weapons, nothing. His Bo against my Sai."
"That's not fair," Zathar snorted. "Bos stink. They're wooden sticks. Oooh, so scary. Sai are real weapons."
"Don has crushed skulls with that very weapon," Raph said mercilessly. "Blood, guts, brains, entrails… You name it, it's been on there. My Sai have been plunged into men's' chests up to the hilt. They've been inside heads, up stomachs, under ribs. Leo's katana? Same story. They've decapitated hundreds of people, been thrown through people, and buried inside people. Mikey's nunchucks have done the same things as Don's Bo. They've cracked heads open, broken bones, and shattered ribs."
Zathar looked a bit sick.
"And that's not all. I've been shot, stabbed, nearly hung, beat within an inch of my life. Don's been nearly crushed, almost made into soup, shot and stabbed. Mikey's been nearly torn apart, crushed, beaten, shot, stabbed. Leo… You name it, he's been there. He's been hung until he was unconscious and we had to resuscitate him. We've all been tortured with cruel experiments, branded by a scientist named Bishop. Leo's shell and plastron were torn off and replaced. They weren't made that way."
"Furthermore, we've been killing regularly since we were ten," Don continued. "It's a hard life, but it teaches you a lot. We're all at risk. One false move, one errant action, and one of us could die. If one of us messes up, one of us will die. And it probably won't be the one who messed up. It's a vicious cycle, but it's our life."
"It sucks," Zathar spat. "Besides, I've heard your stories. You're fighting isn't ninjistsu."
"We fight with anything and everything we've got because in the real world, that's what it takes. When you fight for your life, you don't use katas. You use killing moves, pure and simple. You use anything. I've been hit with crowbars, pipes, gun butts, shoes, pocket change, hell, I've had a dog thrown at me. I've punched people's heads in. I've felt their skulls break under my knuckles." Raph knew he was actually handling this quite well, so he allowed himself to rant a bit more. "I've seen children being raped, murdered, abused. Hell, I've seen infants raped and murdered."
"Then I pity you," Zathar huffed. "You should have gotten out of there."
"Don't pity us," Don said. "We pity you all. You'll never know what it's like to be so close to a brother that you can hear their thoughts. You'll never know what it's like to have that relief that no one was hurt badly after a fight. You'll never see the world as one beautiful place."
"You've fought thugs, ninjas, and all that sort of shit and you're willing to say the world is beautiful. You ask me, you're all crazy," Zathar pointed out.
Raph sighed and shook his head. "You'll never know the feeling of seeing a mother reunited with her lost son, not knowing you saved him. You'll never see couples walking in the park. You'll never sit on a rooftop in the rain and be glad it's dark. You'll never hear your brother sneak up on you and pour something on your head just because. You'll never hide in your brother's bed when a nightmare hits, or when the lair shakes from an earthquake. You'll never see the good in some people. That's why we pity you: You'll never see beauty, true beauty. You'll see hints of it, maybe when your first child is born or you find the love of your live. But you'll never experience it like we have."
"You sound like you're a drug addict."
Raph was through trying to explain; he faced Don. Zathar waited, watching for the customary bow. However, Don had barely turned his attention to Raph when Raph attacked.
Don battered him away, not saving his strikes but going all-out. Raph rolled and came back up, unsheathing his Sai. Don twirled his Bo and swung it, full force, at his head. Raph ducked; Don's staff followed.
They sped up, twisting, ducking, and turning in a deadly dance that had nothing to do with honor. If Raph saw an opening, he took it. If Donnie could, he smacked Raph with his Bo, as hard as he would if Raph were a Foot Elite.
Raph finally saw his opening and dove forward, batting the Bo aside and striking Don's chest with his Sai, the tip just barely scratching the plastron. They both knew that was a killing blow, and Don fell to his knees immediately. Raph tapped his neck with his Sai and then sheathed it and helped Donnie to his feet.
"That's only an imitation. The real deal is much worse. There's more enemies, and they're usually armed with sharp things. Had that been a Foot Elite, I would have died several times because a sword cuts while a Bo smacks," Raph said, turning back to Zathar. The younger turtle was trying desperately to seem indifferent, but they could both see the admiration and terror in his eyes.
Without another word, Raph walked away. Let him figure this out now, he thought to himself as Don jogged up to him. Zathar sat in the grass, and as far as Raph cared, he could stay there.
"I'm getting soft," Raph grunted, rubbing a sore shoulder. Donnie looked at it on the foot and pronounced it only a little pulled.
"I am, too," Don confessed. "I would have been dead so many times."
"Same here. Once Fearless is back in action, we should hurry up and find Leonardo and end this. Go home. I miss New York."
"Me, too," Don assured him. "But it'll be a while. Speaking of which, have you found Mikey?"
Raph slapped himself; he'd totally forgotten about his mission. "No," he groaned.
"That's okay; let's go look together."
They first headed for Alastha's quarters. Raph knocked on her door gently.
"Yes?" Alastha opened and door and ushered them into a plush living room. They sat down at her invitation and accepted the offer of some drink but declined food. "So, what's going on?"
"We just drilled a few lessons on real life into Zathar," Don muttered. "That boy is as respectful as… as…"
"As Zathar is," Alastha sighed, nodding. "I know. Do you think he listened?"
"I think he did," Raph chuckled, rubbing his shoulder. "We came here to learn if you've seen Mikey?"
"No… Not since the meeting yesterday. I excused his absence from his lessons, but he isn't here today, either." Now Raph began to worry.
"We haven't seen him, neither has Leo or Donatello."
"Maybe ask Lea; she was pretty attached to him. She should be at dinner right now."
"Okay; thanks, Alastha." Don grinned and stood again, followed by Raph. They hadn't gotten their promised drinks, but finding Mikey was paramount.
They went into the dining hall and looked around. Don spotted Lea towards the back, obviously uncomfortable with the loud kids around her.
"Lea," Raph shouted over the din. "Can I speak with you?" Lea nodded and looked relieved at the excuse to get out of there. She put her half-full plate in the deposit neatly and followed them out.
"Lea, have you seen Mikey recently?" Don asked once they were in the quiet of the hallway. Lea shook her head shyly.
"No," she whispered, looking at her shoes. "Not for a couple days. Is he okay?"
"We don't know," Raph said softly, now really worried. "Sorry to take you from dinner. I'm sure he's in the woods somewhere. I'll talk to Raphael."
Lea slunk away, moving with a silence that unnerved Raph. She was only ten years old, after all.
"Well, I'm curious. Where's Mikey?" Don asked, following Raph to Raphael's room. The red-banded turtle knocked and his counterpart answered immediately with an invitation to enter.
"Hi, Raphael. Have you seen Mikey?" Raph asked, coming in and sitting as Raphael motioned for him to do. The older turtle was sitting behind his desk, looking at some papers. He looked up slowly.
"Nooo…" He dragged the words out, pursing his lips in thought. "Not since the reunion." Raphael's eyes unfocused and then refocused with alarming speed. "I can't feel him, either! And my range covers all of these lands, plus a bit."
"So… Where's Mikey?"
Raph had the sneaking suspicion that this wasn't going to be a game of "Where's Waldo?".