Kappa weren't anything like April's seen depicted or described. Instead of sharp claws they have triad hands. Their skin isn't necessarily covered in scales but green-tinted and smooth to the touch, albeit a little clammy. They certainly weren't small. The two she knew personally towered over her as any grown man would. The talk about a water dish on their heads was greatly exaggerated. And their eyes, while usually depicted as wild and feral like a cat's, were actually full of life and emotion—so very much like a human's. The only thing the people of Japan got right about these legendary creatures was the sizable shell on their back.
April O'Neil was no doubt the first and only to successfully sketch and paint a detailed kappa.
At the moment she was adding the final touches to the irises. Biting her lip in excitement, April flashed her bright eyes toward her model who sat a little ways from her, patting his thighs in prolonged patience. Just as she turned to dip her brush into the mixed golden color, her light vanished.
With brows furrowed, April looked up to see what had blocked her sunlight. Of course it would be the smaller of the kappa, leaning over to see her progress.
"Misete! Misete!" He said. April still wasn't too well versed with the Japanese language, or the kappa version of it anyway, but she knew tone when she heard it.
"No, I'm not finished yet." Immediately she turned to hide her work. Her friend made a groan and tried to peak around, but she persisted enough for him to give up and return back to sit beside his brother.
"He wants to see." April turned her eyes toward the taller one. After two weeks of secret rendezvous between the three, only he's managed to make headway in communication. Clearly the brighter of the two—of all three of them. She was absolutely amazed by how quickly he picked up on her language, feeling only disappointed in herself for not being able to communicate properly in their native tongue. Despite her dismay, the two never seemed deterred by her lack of communication, and the tall one only seemed to encourage her to speak English, no doubt so that he could learn it further.
With a nod, April looked to the smaller one. "When I'm finished. You know I would have painted you first if you'd sit still."
The tall one chuckled, his smile tender as he looked at the younger. They were brothers too, and often times April found herself trying to match similarities between the two, for paintings sake of course. As an afterthought April wondered about their parents, if they had any, or even how they came to be. But those were wonders for another time.
Right now she finally finished the piece. Looking at it endearingly, April exhaled proudly and then scooted closer to the two, showing them a finely finished painting of Dennosuke. April still had problems pronouncing names so she mentally referred to them as the 'Taller One' and the 'Younger One.' It was problematic and rude, she knew, and she hated how hard it was for her to properly pronounce a Japanese, or Kappa, name.
Of course Dennosuke noticed the wrong spelling at the bottom where April had written the title. She'd even learned how to write their names as she had taught them her signature. Not that any of them could write anymore words or even read an entire novel from each other's libraries, but she should have at least gotten the kanji right.
"Here." Dennosuke took up her brush and corrected the mistake. "Like this."
April huffed. "You know what, fine, I admit it. I'll never be good at it, sooo . . ." She took up her pencil and then jotted down a name written in English.
Dennosuke and Michitaro tilted their heads and curiosity at it. April only smiled.
"Donatello," April announced with a wide smile. She brushed away her embarrassed blush, waving off the offense of giving up on a name. "I'm calling you Donatello from now on."
There was a worry that Dennosuke would be offended and upset. After all, he and his brother accepted her name and the way it was pronounced. But in her observation, she watched him look over the letters, moving a finger over them in the way they were written.
"Dona . . . tello."
April's smile widened. Wow, he almost got that pronunciation spot on. "That's right, he was an artist too."
"He painted?" Denno—Donatello looked at her painting and then at her.
April shook her head. "Sculpted. Very renowned, and something I think would fit you. Is that alright? Can I call you that?"
Despite Michitaro's contagious smiles, Donatello really did harbor the sweetest of smiles, and April adored seeing them because that kappa tried his hardest to remain stoic even behind curious eyes.
"You can call me whatever you want," he said, looking back down at the name. "Donatello."
April then turned her eyes toward the younger of the two, the one currently holding a brush in one hand, a smooth stone in another, and painting over it with her colors. Somehow she'd have to get him to sit still for longer than a minute. Painting takes patience and detail of which was hard to ask of from Michitaro. However, perhaps one thing would be easier to get from him. A name.
"Michelangelo."
Donatello looked away from the painting toward April. When he noticed her stare toward his brother, he turned to look at him too. "Michitaro," he called. The name turned his attention away from the gray-to-orange rock and finally looked at the two.
"Huh?"
Donatello nodded toward April who was pointing at him saying, "Michelangelo. It's what I'm going to call you."
For all she couldn't communicate she trusted Donatello to finish as he explained the situation to his brother. After the information set it, April watched Michelangelo's features brighten and an accepting smile washed over him.
Nodding vigorously, Michelangelo said, "I am Michelangelo!"
She sighed in relief, glad they liked the names. It almost brought April back to a younger time when she brought home stray animals, giving them a validating name to her mother as if proof the creature belonged. Though, these two were far from the various cats and dogs April used to find on the streets of New York City. They were an entity in their own; intelligent, full of wonders and curiosities, and amazingly gentle with her—a far cry from what the Japanese had set them as.
But even from where she stood she understood their reservations for her, or likely her kind, and she wondered if their people painted humans in a similar fashion. April wouldn't be surprised if that were indeed the truth, however, the thought of more of them baffled her. How could these beings stay hidden for so very long? Especially if there were many more of them.
There was a wonder deep down inside, and April had to constantly push it back down knowing she couldn't go gallivanting off to explore the whole of Japan for these likely kappa settlements. But in that she wondered if perhaps the other mentioned creatures existed too. With the two as proof before her, she had a feeling it wasn't so farfetched.
Digging into her pocket, April pulled out a pocket watch. In her ventures and continual endeavors to come home late, her uncle offered her one of his own pocket watches. The hands frustrated her to the fact that it was nearing 5, and that meant supper with her uncle who would be returning from his shift soon. She didn't want to bother him further with her absence, and certainly didn't want to give him a stronger reason to personally go out in search of her. Unfortunately her first task in her preparations to leave was gathering up her utensils and paints, many of which were in Michelangelo's hands.
Already he had an array of painted rocks, currently working on smearing another. He had finished one coat and looked it over for a moment before running his tongue along the surface. April and Donatello simultaneously cringed.
"Oh, ew, why do you keep eating that?" Even from where Donatello sat he could see his brother's tongue changing color from the different paints he was "taste-testing."
"Because I can," was Michelangelo's reply. Of course it was.
In Michelangelo's current apt to taste than paint, it gave April the opportunity to snatch the brush and paints he was using. Immediately he twisted, trying to catch her as she retreated with the materials.
"Aww, whyyyy?" Rolling over, Michelangelo rocked back onto his shell, draping an arm over his face in dramatic fashion.
"It's dinner time," she informed them as she stuffed all of her materials into her case and snapped it shut. She glanced back at them. "I'm sure it is for you two as well." It was the usual parting lingo, though accompanied with the usual disappointed response . . .
"You're leaving?" Donatello turned away from his brother and looked at April with displeased eyes.
April nodded, tapping her watch. "Have to. Will you two be here tomorrow?"
Though presently urged to separate, April's latter comment promised a reunion. The both of them smiled, understanding the question. "Of course," Donatello replied.
"Great, see you then." Waving them off, April turned and left with a racing heart. In the whole of the two weeks that she's known the brothers, never once did her excitement wane. It was something she lived on now, and something she hoped she'd never stop feeling when she got that chance to race back.
. . .
"It's nagatsuki already? Wow, times flies when you're having fun with a human." Michitaro, or Michelangelo, chuckled. Despite his off-handed comments, he wasn't wrong.
As they entered back into the city there were new colored banners draped along the houses and hanging from the arches. It was tradition to change color every month, and with the new month reining in, and Michelangelo's comment, Donatello realized how long it's been since they met April, and how much further it was since they've committed to meeting. They try to do so every day, and it's what Michelangelo prefers but realistically there are days they can't make it, where they can't escape from household duties or the sharp eyes of their older brothers. It's frustrating and Michelangelo always makes a fuss, but they try the next day or the day after. April seems to understand when they miss a few days and shares in their excitement when they reunite. It was wonderful, really, and something Donatello and Michelangelo would likely do for many more weeks, months, and hopefully years to come.
"Oh, oh! There's Aki and the other beauties." Michelangelo nudged his brother with his elbow, a confident smile sharpening his lips. When Donatello turned to look toward the girls, he noticed they were mingled around the western springs. They dyed the waters around that time of the year, creating an array of eye pleasantries, it was why a lot of the adolescent kappa tended to gather near those particular sets of pools, that and it was a popular spot for the girls, so naturally the young boys would gravitate toward them as well, just like Michelangelo was.
Donatello then noticed something in his brother's hand. Michelangelo flicked it into the air and caught it in his tight grasp. It was one of the painted rocks he had brought back with him.
"What are you doing?" Donatello questioned as he watched his brother strut off toward the gathered group.
From there he beheld it all; Michelangelo approaching Aki, one of their most beautiful upcoming kappa. He didn't even care about her entourage who all watched him with humorous eyes and held back smiles. When Michelangelo presented her the rock, Donatello noticed interest flash across Aki's eyes. Well, that was different.
Michelangelo has been straightforward since birth. Even from a younger age, he's been approaching the beautiful and offering them rocks. It was a kappa's form of endearment, an offer to build a nest together, and, well, if the girl took the stone then she accepted the offer. This is the fiftieth time Michelangelo's offered Aki a stone, but the first time it was color coated.
"Nice color, Michitaro. You got a little of it . . . all over." Aki giggled as she pointed to Michelangelo's orange coated fingers, and the smears along his plastron. Shaking her head she moved away with her girls, passing Donatello's little brother as they went, including his attempted offer.
Michelangelo sighed. The disappointment would last approximately 4.5 seconds, or in this case shorter as another lovely looking kappa trailed past Michelangelo. His slumped shoulders rolled back, and stance straightened. Wide eyes followed and only a half second later he was running after her. The usual cycles of Michitaro, or Michelangelo as Donatello would later title. However, even this usual behavior was viewed with skeptical eyes from their elder brothers.
"Since when did those two get closer?" Ienari stood watching his youngest brother fawn over the girls from a distance, arms crossed and stance coiled back. After a short moment he glanced over toward Donatello, his gaze just as perplexed.
"Why? Ya jealous?" Raijirou chuckled, bumping his fist into his brother's arm. He almost knocked him off his balance. Almost.
"It's not that," Ienari assured, giving his brother a look before turning back to his observations. "They've been out a lot. Not after dark, but there are times they're gone all day."
"Yeah? Well, they're at that age where they'll wander. Nothing wrong with that. It's not like they shirk their chore duties."
"Do you think they're going back near the humans' territory?"
Raijirou gave Ienari a look for even suggesting it, but he didn't say anything to divert that possibility. Instead he shook his head with a sigh. "So what if they are? They obviously manage to come back unscathed."
"But that's dangerous, and it could get them hurt, or even killed," Ienari explained.
Raijirou threw his hands up, waving his brother off. "I know humans are dangerous, but so are our brothers. You think they ain't got the skill to defend themselves?" Ienari was only allowed a brow raise before Raijirou moved away with a smug grin. He marched straight toward Donatello who was then promptly grabbed back the arm and tugged along back to their hut.
Ienari heard his younger brother's fading protests, and after they were out of earshot, he understood what Raijirou intended. With eyes set on their youngest brother, Ienari approached Michelangelo while he was sweet-talking a girl. In similar fashion to Raijirou, Ienari grabbed his youngest brother by the lip of his shell, pulling him again despite his complaints.
"Ah, ah, what gives, Ienari? I'll talk to you later, my sweet marimo!" Michelangelo wiggled the entire way back, and when Ienari pushed his brother toward the back of their hut where no one could see he found Raijirou there along with Donatello. Currently, Raijirou was ramming their younger brother and while a frontal attack would usually knock a kappa back and urge him to turn around and utilize his hardest defense, Donatello shook off the shock with crossed arms and proceeded to shake off every strike Raijirou thrust at him.
"Ah, really?" Michelangelo. Hesitant eyes looked over toward where Raijirou was forcing Donatello to spar. A glance behind him had him see his oldest brother stretch his arms and shake his hands, preparing to enter into similar combat—with him.
Taking a crouched stance, Ienari waved for his brother to approach. "Show me what you got, Michi."
While Michelangelo's usual lazy sense of any necessary action slouched him, the next moment he shook of that lethargic hesitation and moved into his usual position. Then he charged.
Kappa were known for their legendary wrestling skills, and each of the brothers were skilled in that aspect on individual levels. Raijirou was no doubt the best. But, when the others weren't looking. When they were home together in their hut on the outskirt of the city, pressed up against the gates, in the concave they had crafted for necessary space, they spared with moves never before seen nor practiced by their fellows.
They struck out with thrusting arms, and swinging kicks, using limbs that would usually be tucked close and shielded by their shells. Yet none retreated into that obvious defense, instead they kicked, punched, rammed. It was a technique they've known for years, and practiced in secret still.
"Yah!" There went Donatello into the structure of the nearby wall. The sound of his shell collided with it sounded a loud CLACK and down went the kappa. But he got up a moment later, eyes on fire and infuriated that he was overpowered so easily. His enthusiastic jump back into his session with Raijirou made Ienari proud.
Ienari's own partner wasn't one to be ignored either. One look away and Michelangelo disappeared from visual angle. Ienari didn't see him again until he had come around to shove a knee into his tender side. Hopping away, the oldest shook off the sting and ground his teeth at the smug look on his brother's face who skipped around as if playing. Some things would never change.
The first strike came from Ienari's heel. Michelangelo dodged it, but Ienari anticipated that and therefore twisted to meet his brother's evasion. From there he managed to jam his elbow right into the collar of Michelangelo's plastron.
"Ouch!" Michelangelo jumped back, rubbing at the spot. His eyes narrowed at Ienari and the older would have prepared for a strike back hadn't Donatello tumbled toward him instead and in the confusion, Raijirou took the opportunity to strike at Michelangelo this time, swinging powerful punches at him, one coming so close that the youngest reverted his head into his shell. "Whoa! That was kinda close, Raij!"
"That's kinda the point," came Raijirou's smirking response as he continued throwing punches, forcing Michelangelo to dodge.
After Donatello caught his balance he only had time to inhale a breath before Ienari jumped and lunged at him. They collided, knocking the younger off of his feet until they tumbled to the ground. Ienari sat atop, reigning down strikes from above until Donatello caught himself, and Ienari's arms.
"It's been a while, hasn't it, Denno?"
Donatello huffed, straining the muscles in his arms to push back. "I've been busy, Ienari!" With a rock forward he shoved his older brother off of him, retreating to scramble to his feet. Raising his hands he exhaled to steady his breathing, a good form and reaction.
"Busy, huh, with what?" Ienari rushed forward again, chopping his way to wear down Donatello's defenses. It wouldn't take long, especially after Raijirou already battered him. "Was it going to the human territory just so you can see more westerners?" There was an opening and Ienari took it, striking Donatello against his plastron, the force enough to make him stumble back.
Once again the sparing pairs crossed paths and as soon as Michelangelo jumped over Raijirou and slid down his shell he was right in way of Ienari's assault. Those wide hatchling eyes of his didn't save him from his brother's strength and agility. Ienari's well-aimed kick sent him tumbling right back into his brother Donatello, and down the two fell in a tangled mess.
Michelangelo recovered first, Spinning and shaking off the impact with a few bounces, throwing his fists up in readiness. "I'm halfway to a millennium. I think I'm old enough go wherever I want." With his eyes focused on Ienari in front of him, anticipating a move, he didn't catch Raijirou sneak up behind him until his arm was grabbed and twisted behind his shell. "Ah! Ah! No fair! Two on one. Cheaters!"
Ienari gave Raijirou a look that had him letting go. Michelangelo moaned, muttering mean names whilst he rubbed his arm. "And you think the humans will play fair if they catch you?" Behind Michelangelo, Donatello got back to his swaying feet. "If you can't protect yourself from the likes of us, then you can't against any human." The fighting style was the human's anyways.
"You keep thinking we run off to court death and that's simply not true," Donatello finally spoke up, as frustrated and bruised as his brother. "Just because you're older doesn't give you the right to act this way toward us."
"And what gives you two the right to go into human territory?" Ienari approached Donatello after his challenging statement. Usually the younger popped his head back into his shell. He didn't this time.
"It's not in their territory per say." All eyes turned toward Michelangelo. "What? I'm just saying the technicalities."
"Michi, will you just not talk for once in your life?!" Donatello huffed, nostrils flaring and eyes wide. It was rare to see him so flustered and it was his tone that quieted Michelangelo.
"How close?" Ienari turned his eyes back toward Donatello.
"We weren't in their territory," Donatello parroted his younger brother.
"How close?" Ienari repeated by pushing himself closer.
"We weren't in their territory!" Donatello didn't back down, which in turn rose the frustration raging in Ienari. After a groan, Ienari threw up a hand and turned away. He might have even stalked off hadn't his sharp gaze caught the incriminating residue of their out-of-city activities dotted along their youngest brother.
Moving toward Michelangelo he took hold of his wrist and examined the color coating his fingertips. That same scrutinizing gaze roamed over his arm, finding traces of the strange substance, and even along his plastron. When narrowed eyes met his brother's, the youngest only averted gazes.
"Uh, there were these berries I found, really squishy." In Michelangelo's attempt to lie, the light from the sun illuminated the strange discoloration of his tongue and the patches of that residue caked over his teeth. When Ienari shoved his fingers into his mouth and pulled at his tongue he squirmed and squealed, even when his older brother let go. "Pah! Gross, Nari! I don't know where your hands have been! Bleh!"
"Berries," Ienari scoffed. "I guess you're close enough to eat their poisons."
"April said it isn't poisonous," Michelangelo defended. When a longer pause followed he realized his mistake. "Oh no . . ."
"April is it?" Raijirou hummed, crossing his arms. "That wouldn't happen to be a human, would it?"
"You're meeting with a human!?" Even though the both of them knew Ienari would eventually put two and two together after this assessment, that didn't mean they both weren't devastated that he'd finally found out.
"Oh, like how is this different from the rat?" Donatello kept pushing where he shouldn't. No one's ever seen him this worked up.
"That's different because he doesn't know about us," Ienari defended. He motioned to Michelangelo. "But you two look like you've lost your inhibitions. You know where that's going to get you? Dead."
"But April's not like that!" Michelangelo swore. "If you could just meet her—"
Ienari looked at Michelangelo. "You know what, Michi, that's a very good idea. Maybe I will."
"Wait, what?" Michelangelo's eyes widened, especially when he received a wary look from Donatello. "Oh, no, please don't do that!"
"Where are you guys meeting her? Is it along the way we used to run?" Ienari narrowed his eyes at the two. "It is, isn't it?" Even in their silence he didn't relent. "Fine, I'll just have to find her myself, and I will."
It was Michelangelo who suddenly threw himself at his brother, clinging to him with wide eyes. "Please don't, Nari! You'll scare her off."
"It'll be for the best. Kappa and human can never cohabitate." Ienari said, shaking his brother off of him and moving to leave.
Wide eyes watched him go, and shaking feet rushed after. "Ienari, come back!"
. . .
She'd been curious before, but never managed to strike up any relation to ask either of them. But after Michelangelo's continual consumption of her paint, April figured it was time to start bringing food.
The uncertainty of what they might like worried her as she scoured through her uncle's garden in the back, and so it was up to her to comprise a menu of delights. If the brothers turned out to dislike the foods she prepped then at least she could finish the leftovers.
After picking what vegetables were ripe and then investigating the pantry she decided it was best to make something she was familiar with, and something that was appetizing. She had just the idea: pizzaiolo. Back in the city the Bertolli's across the street were a kind family from Italy and they made the best foods, one of April's favorites being their pizzaioloes. She had to makes some for the boys.
"Whatever you are baking smells amazing." Augustus came in with a wide smile on his face and inhaling nostrils.
April smiled back. "I'm going out to paint again and figured I better pack lunch instead of waste your money on the food carts." She was currently packing a basket with bottles and napkin cloths. She even shoved in some diningware for the sake of possible necessity.
"Can I have at least one?" her uncle pleaded.
"No," April resolved much to her uncle's displeasure. She wanted to save every disk just in case they liked it. The anticipation for that spurred a spring in her step as she made her way to the forest after she finished in the kitchen.
With a wide smile, she hauled her goods through the thicket. On one arm she slung the basket while in her hand was her art case. Her other arm cradled a stack of books. So she hadn't told her uncle she was taking some of his encyclopedias, but they'd be back before he noticed them missing. On top of that they were just collecting dust. She knew a certain brown-eyed kappa who'd be more than interested to read the histories of the world.
When she made it to their usual spot where the trees circled and Michelangelo had crossed some logs for makeshift benches, April put her items down and waited. Some days she knew it could take a while, and so she often bid her time with painting, finishing pieces. She finished three before she put her brushes down with a heaving sigh.
Where were they?
Just as her patience wore, April perked at the sound of rustling. Eyes widened and smile appeared. She took up her food basket and moved toward their approach.
"Donatello, Michelangelo! You guys got to try what I made you!" Past the bushes and next thicket were a group of men. April paused, frozen when they turned their eyes toward her. "Oh, I'm so sorry to interrupt your camping trip." They didn't look like simple campers, nor wandering hikers. By the way they carried themselves and the small blades on their belts there really was one occupation they likely had.
Backing away, April wanted to turn and retreat, disappear as if they'd never seen her.
"I thought I smelt something." Her Japanese was improving only to the point she could understand the language better. She looked at one of the men who came closer and poked her basket. It only made her jump again. Her reaction made the man laugh and a comment she couldn't quite decipher made the others belt out laughter.
"I'm sorry, I'll leave," April gave in slow Japanese. It made the man snort and what he said came out quite clear.
"You've got a long way to go before you fit in, westerner." When he reached out to pull at one of her locks of hair, April slapped his hand away. His eyes widened at the reaction. His next action was to grab her basket, and April in all her issues refused to let go.
. . .
"It's not that way, o-or that way!" Michelangelo was constantly in front of Ienari, waving at him, trying to keep him from walking a step further. But he was much smaller than his bother. "You're not listening!"
"No, I'm not," Ienari said, keeping his eyes away and on the road ahead as he moved through the bushes. "Because I know you're trying to lead me in the wrong direction."
Michelangelo crossed his arms. "I am not . . ." A sigh from Donatello as he passed him made the younger look at him. He looked just as defeated.
"Maybe today she won't be there," Donatello said in low hope.
"I'm kinda interested to see what human is braindead enough to think you're their friends," Raijirou commented as he bumped past Michelangelo. The comment, though ignorant, brightened the youngest of the brothers and in no time he matched pace with Raijirou in a bout to exclaim all the qualities of their human friend.
"She's not braindead, Raij, she's really smart—well, not as smart as Denno. She can't really seem to grasp our language no matter how hard she tries—but she paints, oh, Raiji, she's sooo good! And nice. I've never met a human so nice . . . though, I've never really met a mean one either."
"That's because we keep away," Ienari spoke up, turning slightly to look back at his trailing brothers. "Whether kind humans exist, the fact is there are more evil ones than good. And so what if that human is nice to you? Did you ever think she might be luring you into a trap?" His sharp eyes then turned toward a quieter Donatello who glared back at him. "They eat our kind when they can, remember."
"Whoa, whoa." Raijirou held up his hands to signal a halt. All eyes were on him. "You hear that?"
After the noises were distinguishable and identified as an irregular disturbance, Michelangelo commented, "Sounds like a party."
Confused looks passed around and then they followed Ienari's lead. They crept up on what was causing the commotion. There was a group of humans not too far from them, four. A rough bunch who were shouting crude words and prodding at a woman in the middle.
"April!" Michelangelo gasped.
"We have to do something!" Donatello turned to their eldest brother, pushing against him.
Ienari was quiet, even as all eyes looked at him and the scene unfolding before them. Finally he sighed and said, "It could be a trap."
Donatello and Michelangelo gawked. "A trap?" Donatello huffed. "Clearly you can see she is distressed!"
"All the more to rile you two idiots up so you go gallivanting closer." Ienari shot them both a glare to keep them still.
April was clinging to a basket when a rough yank tossed her to the ground. The men were laughing at her. What they were saying disturbed all four of them, but Ienari stayed them while Raijirou waited for a personal reason to intervene.
April was gasping as she crawled away, but one of the men grabbed her dress and pulled her back until he thought it would be funny to take out his knife and begin cutting her train. That was when April began screaming.
Michelangelo was bouncing where he stood. His knuckles pressed to his lips and bright eyes dark with horror and worry. Raijirou was the only one keeping him from bounding off, his eyes on Ienari, waiting for a signal, any kind.
"She's crying for help!" Donatello exclaimed. His eyes held the same fear present in Michelangelo's eyes. It was something his older brothers have never seen in him.
Was this human really that precious to the two of them?
"If we go, they'll see us," Ienari stated.
"Who the shell cares. I don't need any more reason to hope they don't forget us." Donatello bit out. Michelangelo nodded vigorously nearby.
The human's screams made them all look until they couldn't anymore. With a short nod towards Raijirou, Ienari approved of their reveal this once. Michelangelo was out first, jumping into the air and landing right behind one of the men. His landing was purposely heavy and the sudden THUD made the human jump around. Before he could even scream Donatello had come rounding around a tree, taking down the man cutting April's dress with a sharp elbow. He went face down into the leaf covered ground, and Donatello was confident the human was no longer conscious.
"KAPPA!" The hysteria encouraged Michelangelo to push the human in front of him.
"You think you can treat Unohana like that? You mess with her, you mess with me, human!" His intimidating presence startled the human to turn and break away into a run. "Yeah, you better run!"
The other two huddled together, back to back. Wide eyes on Donatello and Michelangelo. Just as they focused their frightened attention of them, they didn't hear the other two approach behind them.
"What a bunch of trash." Raijirou's comment had their shaking forms turning and it was in fact his arms that ended both their consciousness.
Ienari looked torn over what had happened and how they reacted, but when his eyes turned to the human girl he could see her shaking in Donatello's arms, face pressed against his plastron and trembling fingers gripping his arm like a vice. There was something about the image that struck him, that made him upset over his decision to show themselves vanish.
"Is she alright, Denno?" Ienari asked, nodding toward him.
Donatello looked down, pulling back a little to lean over. He was speaking to her in a language neither Raijirou nor Ienari heard before.
"You speak her language?" Raijirou asked.
Donatello glanced at him and nodded. After another moment of conversation with the human, he said, "She's shaken, but they didn't get the chance to hurt her."
"April, April!" Michelangelo came running up with a bent wicker basket in hand. "I got your basket. It's a little roughed up, but the yummy smelling contents inside are safe." His eyes looked her over and Ienari and Raijirou watched as he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder in comfort. The sight of the three startled the other two. Ienari wondered how long this had been going on, and whether it would even be possible to separate the trio now.
A look passed between Raijirou and Ienari before the older motioned they approach. Keeping a polite distance, they still moved in to quell their curiosity about the creature their younger brothers were so fond of.
Her face was wet when she looked at Donatello and Michelangelo. But Ienari and Raijirou noticed how comforted she look just by being so close and sheltered by the two. They shared words with her, words that had her responding back slowly until her posture began to straighten. Yet, when those wide eyes fluttered away from what could be friends, the moment they settled on the other two kappa, those wide gleaming eyes gawked.
She took a step back, more into the two who were pressed close to show a form of protection. There was something that irritated Ienari about the way the human was digging her fingers into Donatello's skin, and the way Michelangelo was reaching out in a touch to steady her as if he lacked all right caution. Centuries of instinct vanished into this strange rendition of faux friendship. But after everything that happened, Ienari wasn't sure what he should do about it, about her, about his brothers.
"Kyoudai," he heard Donatello say, while also speaking, "Brothers." Which was likely the equivalent for the word in the language the human understood. It was only until Donatello spoke with her that Ienari watched the startle dissipate from her eyes.
The human rubbed her face, no doubt trying to wipe away the streaks and moisture. She nodded after that and smiled while dipping oddly and saying, "Greetings," in their language. Accented, but understandable. When she said, "Thank you," there was something in her tone and the way her eyes softened toward them that made Ienari unintentionally wary, if only because he's never seen a human with so much emotion.
A moment later she was turning and taking the basket from Michelangelo. Pulling out disks of bread lathered with vegetable and sauced toppings, she handed the two younger kappa ones first before she reached out to offer them to Raijirou and Ienari. After a moment of hesitation they took it up, sniffing it curiously. It was Michelangelo who tried it first.
"Oh, oooooh! You guys, oh, you guys. Go ahead, take a bite and get ready to enter nirvana!" Leaning back, the youngest moaned in pleasure, quickly finishing the piece in a final bite.
Donatello was the next to take a bite, Raijirou following. Ienari watched their expressions go from skeptical to wide-eyed approving mouthfuls of the dish. Enthusiastic nods encouraged Ienari to take his first bite. It was the strangest taste, but something so unordinary that made it extraordinary. He rushed into that second and third bite just as quickly as his brothers had.
"I made more." April dipped back into her basket and handed the rest to them, all of which were gobbled down quickly. She smiled at them, her face full of expressions the older two had never witnessed on an enemy until now. "Again, thank you so, so much. Especially you two."
"This one's Raijirou," Michelangelo waved toward before twisting and motioning toward the eldest. "And the oldest, Ienari."
"Raijiroo. Inury." The butchery of their names made Raijirou laugh.
"She's not so great with names," Michelangelo admitted. "Which was why she gave this handsome guy right here the amazing name of Michelangelo. See that? I can pronounce that. And for Denno she named him Donatello. Isn't it cool? Pet names, she likes us."
"Pet names?" Raijirou snorted, giving his younger brothers a teasing look. "Is that what it is? You two her pets? Well, you certainly came to her like a bunch of loyal dogs."
"Dogs, Raiji? Really. At least get a better lookin' animal like a turtle," Michelangelo scoffed. "I like turtles."
"Yeah, of course you do," Raijirou muttered, shoving the smaller in hopes to knock him off his ridiculous high. But Michit—Michelangelo recovered fast.
"Why did the other humans attack her?" Ienari questioned, looking at Donatello for translation.
After some short questions and responses, his brother turned back to him with a disappointed frown. "Because she comes from across the ocean. There's apparently tension with the natives of this land and the ones coming over on the ships."
Ienari was amazed how a clan as powerful as the human clan would resort to infighting. It was no doubt this ongoing clash that had kept their forces at bay from controversial territories. But Ienari knew that as long as they, themselves, were out of sight, out of mind, then it would give the human clan no reason to remember their grievances.
"Do you see now?" Eyes turned toward Michelangelo. "April's just pure. She doesn't mean any of us harm."
Ienari's eyes turned away as soon as Donatello began speaking to April again. Watching them converse amazed the eldest kappa. Donatello had always been smarter than most, his intelligence even on par with many of the adults in their clan. Now, seeing him speak a language he couldn't have known for less than a month just blew him away. And the human understood him perfectly.
There was wonder in what they spoke of until tragic eyes turned toward him. The human looked at him as if he had just caused her the greatest offense.
"Oh please. I don't wish to hurt." Her chopped Japanese was manageable enough. The emotions that she lost in her botchy translation came out through her bright blue eyes. "My friends." She motioned toward the two younger. It really was an absolute controversy, but Ienari was biting that fact down even as he watched the human's truest colors. "My only," she continued.
Not able to look at her pleading eyes for long, Ienari turned toward Donatello. "What'd you tell her?"
"Only that you don't want me and Michi to meet her. That this is goodbye." His eyes were downcast, disappointed even as the human pleaded. While he and Michelangelo had been rebellious in the past weeks over this human, Ienari knew their hearts. He knew that if he so forbade it for the reason of safety, they would honor him and abide in his wishes, but he also knew that if they did then they'd never look at him the same. And he wondered if he was willingly to live with that.
"Is this what all western gals wear?" There was Raijirou, crouched forward, tugging at her dress before decided to lift it and see what was underneath.
April gasped, pulling her dress back and stepping away. Michelangelo and Donatello laughed at that while explaining how rude it was to "lift a woman's skirt." Raijirou showed his apologies through his embarrassed face before he began inquiring more information about the western human, of which both younger brothers knew immensely about.
But when the laughter died down, when the lighthearted smiles fell, it was Michelangelo who spoke his remorse first. "I'm going to miss you, April." She looked back with just as tragic eyes and even moved to lean into his arms. Both looked reluctant to let go. "Just give me about five years and I'll be ready, guys."
Raijirou sighed, moving back to stand beside Ienari. "Are you really going to do it, Nari? I mean look at them. She actually seems pretty nice. Maybe the western humans don't know about us, so maybe that means they don't hold anything against us either." He looked toward where Michelangelo and the human embraced. "Well, except open arms."
"But for how long?"
Raijirou rolled his eyes. "Who cares for how long? Look at that, for the first time in history a human's touched one of us without trying to kill us. Those two idiots of ours did something no kappa in history could do since the beginning of time; became a human's friend. I dunno, maybe it's destiny."
Destiny.
Ienari sighed, falling into his thoughts and staying there even as he made up his mind, turning to retrace his steps. His retreat was noticed by all three, and it was Michelangelo who groaned the loudest, releasing the human to fall back to his brother's side.
"We're leaving already? I wasn't even done with the hug." He pouted, looking back at the human who stood there looking on at their retreating forms with the sadness that matched the intensity in his heart. Even Donatello managed a passing touch before be too came back to trail Ienari.
Eyeing Michelangelo to his right, Ienari asked, "What are you doing?"
Michelangelo rose a brow. "Following you back home. It's what you wanted, right?"
"I'm going home. I believe it's dishonorable in every culture to leave a girl behind." He stopped for a moment and nodded back to the human who looked ready to cry again.
Michelangelo stood there with a slack jaw. Donatello nearby carried a similar expression. "Oh, are you serious, Nari?" His smile returned in a heartbeat. Relief washed over Ienari when he witnessed his brother's spirit return, worried for a moment that he'd never see it again.
A nod was all Michelangelo needed before he lunged at his brother, wrapping his arms around him as tightly as he could. "You're the best, you know that!" Just as quickly as the embrace came, it left. Ienari had never seen his brother race back to a human so fast. His eyes met Donatello's after that and there was relief in his brown irises, a small smile forming on his lips. He was just as happy.
Watching the two return to the human was surreal, as surreal as it was to listen to himself encourage the encounter and friendship. Raijirou shifted beside him, and out of the corner of his eyes, Ienari could see a forming smile.
"This isn't like you."
Ienari knew that, but he nodded and accepted it anyway. "Neither is that, but it's there, so for now I'll let it be."