Normal

Quick.

He knew the path like the circuits of his gear —it'd only take a minute.

Just to quench his curiosity.

Just to get some kind of answer.

He didn't have to love it, but hard data would provide some kind of restitution, and at the very least, he deserved that. It was nearly ten. By now, she'd be home. Her mother was finicky about those kind of things, and with good reason. The city wasn't the safest place without mutants and yokai running about. Humans were their own kind of worst enemy if given the chance.

But maybe if he could just talk to her —face to face, maybe things would start to make sense.

It was strange and unsettling to think she'd keep some guy a secret from them…

Then again, she kept them all a secret from everyone she knew.

Was that a fair trade off?

There weren't any hard rules to go by.

It just…kept them safe. Safe from the humans who wouldn't understand.

Sunita had the best of both worlds—

His eyes widened at the thought. Sunita. Maybe she knew something. April often confided in the Yokai; perhaps that was a good place to start if not the actual conversation he intended to have—

When had he gotten to the roof across from April's apartment?

…He was faster than he realized.

But, no matter…her light was on.

And with a small triumphant smile, Donnie quickly realized he needn't pry nor inspect upon her privacy (there were lines he simply would not cross), for she had casually walked about her room from one side to the other, bypassing the window without a second thought.

Knitting his brows, he knelt quietly within the shadows of the rooftop, scripting out what he would possibly say.

How've you been?

What's going on?

How's the project going?

Are we still down for the tournament?

Is everything okay?

No big deal, but you've been kinda weird the past few weeks, what's up with that and why are you ignoring me?

His brows flattened.

Maybe, scratch that last one.

Baby steps.

Taking a deep breath, he released a quick huff and pulled out his cell phone, finger hovering. Had she replied to Mikey yet?

Something in his gut had him highly doubtful, but…

'hey'

He winced as soon as sent, knowing there was no going back. The cellular waves had been quiet between them the past few days, and with every inching hour, he had reminded himself of her words when she had still been socializing,

'just sit back and let me handle this'

And he had. He had honestly come through.

So, then…why?

Why did he feel like he was being punished?

The phone fiddled in his hand as he glanced back and forth between the screen and her window, contemplating his next move. From within the vantage point he was in, he noted her shuffling had stopped, and watched as she pulled her phone from her back pocket, giving it a curious glance.

And like before at the pizza shop, she seemed to recall her old self, a warm smile curling as she began to type on the screen. His eyes darted to his phone, witnessing the dots ride their wave of anticipation, and the unsettled indigestion that had begun to haunt him launched into his chest as a boxing match of elation.

Finally…now they were getting somewhere.

The quiet smile that had formed along his face waited patiently, eager to get back to their gaming routine, their teamwork, their banter. Their horrific habits of breaking morning and study montages. The knowledge of knowing she'd be around whenever, rather than wondering if ever.

He missed those casual nights that kept his mind spry and reactions young. He missed the expectations he had for himself, and being able to meet them (for the most part), and the sarcasm and camaraderie and—…April. He missed April.

And almost immediately, his smile wiped away, growing uncomfortable with the needy idea.

His attachment was normal, no need for concern.

He had simply grown used to her presence and liked to keep to a tidy schedule, that was all.

She was a gateway to the surface world, and naturally, he was curious. Removing that from the equation simply stifled his garnering stats.

After all, she had introduced him to a lot of things over the course of their friendship —the concept of accessing the world wide web had been an immeasurable gain.

Their routine had become predictable, calculative, reliable…

There was a sense of comfort when such parameters were met.

But she had changed the game…set new boundaries, and hadn't told him the rules. For three weeks he had been playing a new kind of game —one he had loathed, but feared to quit. However…he had finally made it to a check point.

His gaze fell on his phone once more, arching a brow as he wondered how long of a paragraph she was typing.

Probably a heartfelt apology —one he surely deserved, followed by an offering of a gaming session. After all, they only had less than a week before the competition was up. He wouldn't imagine pressing blame on her if they lost, but if they lost…he'd probably mention it. Especially after all that grinding…

Eyes clicking up, he arched a brow.

April's door had opened, and from the small rectangular angle he could see, it appeared her mother had popped in to exchange a few wor—

What the…

Donnie's brows flattened heavily.

Pizza guy. Guy from the pizza place. Now at April's place. Bringing in some kind of model of some sort…hooked with rigs and wires and—

The project.

It was the project.

It certainly looked complex —at least from where Donnie could see, but with a gritty squint, he also analyzed the only theory that could possibly fit.

'lucky break! guy seems to know what hes talkin about when it comes to conduits and junk so i think i got a winner'

'counting our chickens, are we?'

'hey from what i see, he's meticulous, detail oriented and knows exactly what he's doin, so i can't complain.'

'i can'

'that's a whole lotta salt comin from a freshwater'

'…you win that round, alias, but i'll not be bested again.'

'i know ill regret puttin this in writing but chill, D. im just tryin to ace this grade. you're still the smartest guy i know.'

'screenshotting'

'youre the worst'

Raúl.

Pizza guy was her project partner.

A cold bitterness filled Donnie's gaze as he analyzed the young man's face —nothing entirely special about it. Plain and forgettable. Able to blend into a mass crowd and disappear with or without glasses and a striped shirt.

And yet, when the young man placed the project down on her desk and spoke, April grew entirely enraptured, hanging on to every word as if a ballad of lyrics had swept through her very soul.

No level of science could ever pull her attention so vividly —not even Donnie's vastly superior inventions had enthralled her that much.

He couldn't imagine a single topic that would make her glow with excitement the way she just had —not even beating their hardest level in Javelin had brought her that much joy. It was bizarre. Unnatural. Weird.

But it wasn't evidence.

Nothing that wouldn't make him sound ridiculous when repeating it out loud.

He knew what April's happiness looked like. He had seen snippets of it before: moments before biting into that perfect slice…the praise of Master Splinter…the satisfying ending of a Jupiter Jim sequel…the triumph of nailing a homer…the glow of an investigation…the tender smile she carried for Mayhem…

There were so many prime examples that shuffled through his mind, each one unique from the next, and so definitive of who April O'Neil was…

…he quietly sat, wondering…contemplating…if this was simply a version of herself he hadn't been exposed to. Hadn't known.

Awkwardly his fingers clasped along his knee pads, running them in thought.

And why would he?

It wasn't like they had spoken about anything of the sort, even in their most casual of conversations.

April was…well…

She was certainly forward and abrasive about many things in life, never afraid to put her two cents in when she was passionate about whatever her focus happened to be.

But when it came to people, and dazzling them…she often recoiled in self doubt, much too concerned with the social norms of society. What was popular. What was not. Who was cool. Who wasn't. And where she placed in the midst of it all.

Being situated so far from such trivial pursuits, Donnie had only lived snippets of her experiences, slices through the internet, and bits through movies and media.

But it didn't mean he lacked understanding.

Adoration —like when Leo fell head over heels for every female lead in a Lou Jitsu film.

Impression —like when Raph witnessed a feat of strength greater than his own.

Glee —like when Mikey finished that perfect magnum opus, eager to share it with the world.

But this…whatever it was…was far more than some average, normal interest.

This fascination—

This spark—

This thrill—

Whatever it was sat sourly in Donnie's gut, churning the dairy into uncomfortable cramps. Whatever it was had sunk its claws deep into her soul and was dragging her back into the dark beyond without a gasp of air to hold onto.

Whatever it was…

His phone teetered within his palm, slowly closing his fingers around.

…he wasn't apart of it.

The spring night felt chillier in that moment, watching from afar as like-mind and like-spirit melded with her on a level he most likely never would, earning a trust it had taken him years to achieve, smiling with the kind of face he would never have.

The cold settled further, sinking into his chest and settling into his gut, unable to shake the frigid turmoil that consumed him.

And as the partners casually chatted in the comfort of her room, Donatello realized there was no need for him in this world of two. His hazel eyes captured her for the moment, speaking with her hands as she often did until she paused, realizing her phone was still in her grip, and this distracted her for a split second as if recalling the message she had been in the middle of writing only a few minutes prior.

Her eyes darted about, skimming through the note before her fingers clasped at the screen, tapping a few times and swiping.

Hope.

It was a ninja's strongest weapon.

Donnie slowly blinked toward his phone, the dots riding their wave.

His hand tightened nervously.

His brows firmly knit.

Send it. Just…talk to me, April. Please.

But the dots paused and disappeared as the young man's hand guided her phone down, uttering something or other…and her smile grew warm and soft.

The staff grit into the concrete beneath his feet, gaze stoic and piercing.

Why was April just—

Fine.

Fine.

If this was the game April wanted to play, then…perhaps it was time to tap out.

Disconnect.

Unlink.

She had found herself a new partner to team up with…and from the looks of it…she was happy.

At least…at least now the mutant knew where he stood.

Lifting himself from his kneel, Donnie shook out the tingle of his legs and descended into the shadowy depths where the darkness was warm and familiar.

What he had witnessed was…normal.

Something —something he was not.

And that thought haunted him as he reached the recognized alleyway of his home, realizing and…understanding that such was a blessing and a curse all wrapped into one.

Despite the lingo. Despite the gaming. Despite the food, and the fashion, and the movies…

Donnie would never be normal.

And April deserved so more than that…

Hope had misguided him.

Hope had kept him in the dark.

Hope had only become a breeding ground for disappointment.

Lifting the sewer lid, he sighed. Only fools made the same mistakes twice, and Donatello was no fool.

His brows knit as his phone pinged.

His greatest assumption had been Leo, noting his brother had left him out here a while ago, and he had yet to return. Leo had never been known for his patience, although the techie couldn't hold this particular night against him. It had been…a universal test.

Donnie's eyes stared at the screen numbly, feeling the bubble of rage consume him whole.

'busy'