Hello my friends! How's everyone doing? I'm great, surprisingly. It's the weekend so why not be cheerful, am I right? Anyway thanks a bunch for the reviews last chapter, I really appreciate them. Please leave some more for this chapter, reviewer number 150 gets spoilers, so strive to be that person! One last thing; I mentioned this back in chapter 25, but I would seriously appreciate a fan made cover for this story, preferably digital, but hand drawn would be pretty rad as well! If you'd be interested in making one, please leave a review or PM me. Anyway, enjoy!
Dojo
Raphael paces back and forth, watching his brothers attempt at forming the perfect stance for the art he'd been so eager to teach them. Ninjutsu.
"Donatello, straighten your back and bend your knees more. You don't want to lock them, being too stiff will affect your ability to flex," Donnie followed his brother's orderers silently, knowing his brother knew best in this kind of thing.
Continuing down the line, Raphael halted behind the youngest Hamato. Circling around Michelangelo, the eldest stopped in front of the former.
Frowning, Raphael placed his fisted hands on his hips, glaring in disapproval. Sheepishly, Mikey chuckled, attempting to laugh his brother's scold away.
With judgment glazing his eyes, Raphael studies his brother's posture.
Back slumped, Michelangelo's arms dangle carelessly at his sides. His legs could almost be in the perfect position, if he would only give them a fierce stance.
Bags lay beneath his sky blue eyes, making him look even more exhausted than he already did.
"Come on, Mikey, if you're not going to take this seriously then leave!" Raphael pointed to the door, impatience polluting his voice.
Exhaling a long sigh, Michelangelo rolled his eyes and imitated Donatello's form.
Finally, Raphael moved onto Leonardo, who had the stance perfected. Smirking, Raphael looked his brother up and down, failing to shove the admiration out of his emerald eyes. "Great job, you didn't fail."
Leonardo's lips raised a bit at the edges, the slightest grin growing slowly, but confidently.
With only being for three days, and only just begun training, Leonardo was and his younger brothers were already learnt quickly. Raphael promised himself that by the end of the decade, they'd be masters.
Just as Raphael had wandered over to the rack of swords, ready to demonstrate the proper way of wielding the weapon, Yoshi had called for his eldest child.
Retracting his hand from the chosen katana, Raphael looked over to his brothers before following his Father's calling voice. "I'll be back in a minute, work on your grip, make sure you're holding your weapon perfectly."
With orders given, Raphael went downstairs.
"What's up?" Raphael walked through the kitchen door casually, and sat down on his claimed stool. On the other side of the counter, Yoshi was busy preparing a pumpkin pie. This was one of the rare occasions that Michelangelo wasn't the one cooking the meal. Though, for occasion this is. One of Yoshi's coworkers and his family were coming over for dinner, thus, dinner be prepared by a professional.
Not bothering to glance up at his son, Yoshi began the conversation his son had so willingly put off for too long. "I think it'd be best if we talked about what happened Tuesday night, don't you?"
"No, actually I think it'd be best if we ignored that subject."
Yoshi put his son's statement off for the time being, shoving the home made meal into the oven. Turning back around, he washed his hands and wiped them dry with the aid of a cloth.
Leaning his elbows on the counter, Yoshi stared deeply into his child's eyes, looking for a sign of fear. Or sadness. Or maybe even desperation. It was an odd dream, but Yoshi wanted so badly for his son to show those emotions. He wanted to be able to comfort Raphael during his weakest hour. Sadly, though, Yoshi had raised Raphael under the belief that emotions make you vulnerable, and vulnerability makes you undesirable.
"You threw a party without my knowledge or permission, we are talking about this weather you like it or not," Yoshi stood up and began to clean the counter top. "Now, what happened?"
Raphael rolled his eyes a sighed; a mixture of annoyance and defeat. He knew there was no getting out of this, therefore, he didn't bother to protest any further.
"When I was close enough to home, I texted Casey, asking him to send out a text to our friends to meet up at my house. Him, Mona, Karai and Hailey all stayed the night. We threw a party the next night, nothing big really happened."
"I see. And how long had the party been going on when the alcohol was brought out?"
Raphael shot his father a look, something landing between disgust and question. "An hour and a half. But like I said earlier, I didn't bring the alcohol, Daiki did. So if you want to be mad at someone then you can call him up because I need nothing wrong."
Yoshi slammed his fist down, emphasizing his temper. It's times like these where father and son were more alike than ever. With their calm hanging on by a thread, lions prowl in the pits of each of their souls, aching to howl angrily with the wind in their manes. And just like real lions, they both loved and hated competition. All they wanted was their victims blood dried on their paws, just so they could claim victory. Of course, their opponent was stronger when it was Yoshi vs Raphael.
"Raphaello Sanzio Hamato," Yoshi used his son's full name, adding that hated 'O' to the end, making him sound all the more threatening. "I don't know how you learned that name, but I do know that he did not come to your party. And though I'm unsure of how you got your hands on it, you brought out the alcohol and lied to me. I'll have you know I talked to your mother about this and she said that Daiki is back in Japan, enjoying his summer with his sister and father. There is no way he could be here in New York, now quit your lies, I will no longer feed off of them for your own amusement," Yoshi finished cleaning up his mess, and stalked out of the kitchen.
Eyes wide with infuriation, fists clenched in rage, face red with hate, mind clouded by anger. Raphael could only see in red as he followed after his father, who lead the eldest Hamato teenager to the dojo, where the younger three were beginning a spar with wooden swords.
"Boys, company will be here shortly; I suggest you get yourselves cleaned up," Raphael dropped his gaze as he processed his father's relaxed voice, settling for a gaze more perplexed than any. It was astonishing, how quickly Yoshi were able to reverse his emotions. It was like a switch, turning off the raging storm that one person must suffer through so that another can walk happily along the beach. Raphael's father had so easily calmed himself just at the sight of the other three.
Scary, wasn't it? How someone could so unhesitatingly shape-shift their emotions from one to the other without breaking a sweat? Living a lie, that's what that was right there. And when Raphael came to realize this, those sharp, burning flames of pure hostility towards his father had grown twice the size they were before, and those lapping tongues of fire were flourishing by the second. Soon, the anger would be far too much, and Raphael didn't want to think about the big blow.
"But, Raph was gonna teach us some ninjutsu," Michelangelo frowned. He'd been looking forward to becoming a ninja, wanting oh-so much to be the stealthiest of men.
"Well, you'll just have to wait until tomorrow," Yoshi left, leaving the boys with nothing to do but exchange looks of disappointment.
Raphael and Leonardo's Room
Raphael slipped into a pair of black jeans and a NY Yankees T-shirt.
Across the room, Leonardo rummages through his closet, questioning every shirt and pants we owns. Finally, he pulls out a royal blue polo shirt and khakis. Holding up the outfit, Leonardo looked to his big brother for assurance. "Does this look exceptional?" Raphael glanced up just as he'd finished zipping up his dark grey jacket.
"Not for where we're going," Raphael said shortly as he walked to his own closet in search of his combat boots.
Confused, Leonardo rose his eyebrows. "I thought dad made dinner? We're going out?"
Raphael zipped his shoes up at the back and stood straighter. Walking over to the shelf hanging on the wall beside his bed, Raphael took his light grey slouch-beanie off its hook and put it on carelessly. A pair of sunglasses was pulled out of the top drawer of his bedside table, and slid onto his face. "Dad did make dinner, and everyone is eating here. We aren't."
Leonardo narrows his eyes. "Why; where are we going?"
Raphael smirks. This is the fun part. "You're gonna meet Karai."
Without a second thought, Leonardo followed his brother's lead. He didn't care about his father's look of disappointment when he passed by him in the hallway, all he cared about now was meeting his girlfriend.
Raphael turned on his car, putting the key into the ignition and twisting, setting life to the automobile. He smirked as Leonardo buckled himself into the passenger seat.
The oldest knew that his father would punish both himself and Leonardo for leaving when company was arriving soon, but Raph didn't care. All he could tell himself as he drove his brother to do something that would infuriate their father, was this: if I'm getting into trouble, it won't be alone.
