Heroes in the Half-Shell

Chapter 10 - The Ha'shi

Disclaimer: I do not repeat DO NOT own TMNT and crew in any way cause they belong to Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird (Only knows as the Greatest Guys on Earth!). Other characters like a certain OC that happen in this fanfic rightfully belongs to me and only ME!

Announcement from the writer: So far, so good. How's everyone's weekend? Good? Mine was quiet with a lot of rewriting fanfics and watching RotTMNT movie non-stop (Still, a problem, I think.). So, nothing much to say but work, work, work, work. As you guys know if you have been with me from the very start of my old version, there will be short chapter and a few long ones like the previous one.

And here comes one of my favourite scenes of the movie. Enjoy!

(The Sewers, Manhattan, NY- 8:59am)

Punishment. Noun. The act of punishing. The face of being punished, as for an offence or fault. A penalty inflicted for an offence, fault, etc. Severe handling to treatment.

That was the one word that the four 15-year-old reptile were afraid to hear. That, and another word.

They say effective discipline helps children learn to control their behaviour and builds their self-esteem. The purpose of all this was to stop the child from doing what every parent doesn't want them to do. Putting themselves in harms way or having a corrupt life.

At the beginning, their punishment was started at mild before it was moved on to harsh torture. The Turtles have always gotten the short straw when it comes to mild torment. To them, it was never easy. They always have to get things the hard way.

This is nothing new. Every child and teen go through this. Each punishment has varied of types from verbal to physical abuse. From gentle to strict. It could be yelling, withdrawing or withholding any privileges, suffering the consequences, grounding them or giving them time-outs. For the Turtles, they do have a set of rules that was created by their father in which they have no choice but to follow them.

Was it chores? They're not clean freak and cleaning anything is not their speciality. But even if they did, it would mean that they are hiding something. Well, they are hiding something and doing chores around their home would not be enough to sweat them out.

Was it a time-out chair in the corner? Most of the chairs are in the kitchen area and only one of them was being used but it was not for sitting on their shells.

Going into their room? Their own bedroom was not exactly…private. Not much walls and doors in the huge sewer lair. And there was hardly any privacy.

A smack on the shell? From you-know-who, they won't be sitting for another week or so.

Doing 10 flips? Only if it is something that small.

If you have answered to any of them or all of above, then you are completely and utterly…wrong.

Their kind of punishment that their father has instructed for them is way different from anything that anyone has ever seen or experience in their life.

The Ha'shi.

And it was a lot more agony than a simply smack or chair in the corner. It was a form of discipline that applies to all ninjas. It was introduced to the Ninja Turtles when they first started their training.

Located in the same room with the large hatch door, each turtle is designated to balance on an object that was fished in the drains or the junk yard within the Ha'shi. They were all located within a small circle but not in arm length. The only light shining down on them was the ceiling fan that shines from the sun from outside world.

Either one of them gets into trouble, everyone serves their time in the Ha'shi. Not matter what and whom.

After having a calming morning tea, the rat removes himself from his chambers and joins his younglings in the steel dojo. He has only left for a few minutes and not one of his sons has moved from their spots. Wobbling and shaking does not count. In fact, they can't seem to move an inch in the painful position that they are currently in. And that is what that they have been for nearly all morning since they were caught.

"Oooohhh, 11 hours in the Ha'shi," he speaks up. The sly rat drops his hands and places them behind his back. "Are you sure none of you want to tell me where you were last night?"

This is his way of trying to break his children. Parent would come up with ways to make their provocative kids talk. It is either a mean stare or take away any of their valuables like their iPhones or a Gameboy. This is Splinter's way. Putting them in the Ha'shi for a very long time would make them talk. But is it working? So far, only sweats from their aching muscle and faces were the only thing escaping. Not one word. Not just yet.

Doing the full splits while resting his large feet on two cinderblocks, and balancing two hard-boiled eggs on a pair of chopsticks, each, and one on his bald head, the leader of the team was the first to speak. "How you holding up, fellas?" For the past 11 hours, the eldest has been setting a good example for his team to not easily break under this intense pressure. Even if his legs are ready to snap after locking them into place for nearly half a day.

Balancing as much as he can on a small tricycle with one huge foot, the red brute's hands were full with a pair of knitting sticks in his large hands. Throughout the rest of the night and into the morning, he was halfway done of making a red woolly scarf that would be perfect for the cold days down in the sewers.

To make one of his sons break, with his long tail, Splinter whacks the closest turtle to him. The one who is built like a brick. Wonder if he can smash him like one?

Raphael feels the pain and does a short yelp. He nearly lost his balance but he resumed his craft. "I ain't breaking if Donnie ain't breaking." Yelp, just like a brick.

On his right, Donatello was going around and around. Very slowly. Sitting in a horse stance on a hard plank of wood that is rocking on top of a bowling ball, sitting a foot off the ground thanks to another plank of wood but less in width and sturdier with a couple of cinder blocks resting underneath them like legs. Both of his hands were occupied with ping pong paddles as he lightly whacks the polyester ball back and forth. Try keeping it in motion while moving at the speed of a Merry-Go-Round. As his father gets a bit closer to him, he begins to whine a bit. Not because he was a bit scared of him. It was that he didn't want to lose his focus on the small item going from one side to the other.

Due to the fact that spinning around in circle for a long period of hours, the smart reptile was starting to throw up again but managed to hold it down for the fifth time in the last hour. "Experiencing intense nausea but not breaking." Patting the ball from side-to-side, he keeps his rhythm in check, despite looking a little green. If only Sensei will not make this worse…

Well, too bad because Splinter uses his tail to wrap one corner of the large piece of wood underneath him and winds the cycle once more, making it go a bit faster. Donnie now whimpers at the new speed that was added to the ride. He now feels a sensation riding up his oesophagus. He is not liking this one bit.

This leaves only one more turtle left. And unlike his brothers here, he was hung upside down. And unlike his brothers, he was not sweating. Or shaking. For a long period of time. He was still and calm but slightly moving like a motion art statue that you see in any unique galleries.

His puka-puka necklace and sunglasses were taken off and resting on the wooden swivel chair as they were dangling in his face from before. And just like Donnie, he was spinning at a slow-rate but he doesn't appear to be sick from it. With a big grin on his face, he was enjoying his little time in the Ha'shi for once. But not for long.

"Guys? I'm in the zone! There is literally nothing that could break me right now!" he spoke. He too was tired as his brothers are but he does his very best to cover it.

Is that so, my son…

Splinter knows what to bring out in order to make him talk at least. Taking something out from his hiding spot, he throws it into the middle after swinging a wooden sit into the centre. Seeing the familiar white box that was place in the middle, Mikey's arms begin to shake along with the chair and smile dropped. "Starting to break."

Sitting on the lone stool that the rat has brought out lies the one thing that his sons cannot resist. Mostly to the youngest of them all. He begins to circle around it. "Of course. you've all tasted the 5-cheese pizza. But this,…" he slightly hovers his right furry hand and does a few circular motion, like he was petting a small furry companion of his own before putting them behind his back, "…cheesemongers have speculated of its existence for centuries. Da Vinci's original masterpiece." He looks over to one of his ninjas whom for he was named after. He then looks back at the box and dig two of his long nails under the flap of the square-shaped packaged. It was time for the big reveal. "I submit to you…" with the flick of his furry wrist, the lid flips open; revealing the contents within.

"NOVANTANNOVE FORMAGGIO!" he bellows, waving his free hand in the air before joining the other behind the rodent's back. "The 99-cheese pizza."

It was like the Gods have presented to them the gift from above, the light shines down on the Holy grail of New York City. Inside the known disc item that passed down from generation to generation. From famous outlets in the Big Apple and beyond. Made by the creator who brought this item to the table or anyone doorsteps.

Inside the white thin box was a large pizza with a fantastic blend of tomato paste and, like the rat said,…cheese.

If his eyeballs have the ability to pop out anytime and stay rolling on the ground, that is what Mikey's would be doing at this very moment. Never, in his turtle years has he or any of his siblings have ever come across something that was frightently…unmanageable. There were a number of difficult dishes in the years of the reality cooking shows but this was nothing now compared to anything at all. "Ooohhhh! It's not possible."

"Mikey, it's a trap!" Donnie frantically warned. He and the other two eldest knew that this was an oblivious ruse. They knew that the deep-dish was their favourite meal of all time, but in a situation like this and in the hands of the rat master, they know it is bad. "A pizza with that variety of cheese is a culinary impossibility!" Plus, there are about 1778 known cheeses in the world but the task would prove to be a difficult one.

But Mikey simple didn't listen. Because his eyes – and his nose – were now in trance of the item that was sliced up as one of the pieces was taken out of the thin box, courtesy of his father. And it was coming closer to him. With every step.

Let the true torture begin. "Shall I list the ingredients?" the rat speaks. All the older teens watched the scene unfold as they are helpless to do anything.

Mikey knew it was a trap but he didn't care. His baby was in front of him and he needs it. Now. "No…" Anything but that!

Splinter brings the slice closer to his face. "Cheddar…,…Provolone,…"

"Mikey, don't you do it!" barked the leader. As much as he wants to get of slice out of his father's grip, he would have to get down from his difficult position. And knowing how tired his legs are, it would take him a minute to get the blood flowing into his legs before he takes the first step. All he can do is watch and hope that his brother does not break.

But the rat didn't stop and Mikey hasn't broken. Yet. "…Asiago,…"

"Keep it together!" the brainic begged. In the background, Leo almost drops the egg on his right chopsticks but swiftly grabs it in a nick of time. Good thing that they are hard-boiled or else it would be a smelly mess to clean up.

"Taleggio,…"

Mikey has stopped spinning and was looking at the pizza with his full attention. "I don't even know what that is." True, he only knows the usuals.

Now the pizza was just half a foot away from those green lips of his. "..Mozzarella, of course." The gooey, melted cheesy ingredient begins to droop down to the concrete as the rat continues to lean it towards…

Michelangelo could not hold it in any longer.

"Allright, allright, allright! WeleftthelairbecausetheFootweretakinghostageswekickedsomeseriousbutt,andtherewerethesegirlsnamedAprilO'NeilandSallyHopewhotookourpicture,…" Nearly out of air to speak, the blabbermouth takes a deep breath and resume once more, "…but we took care of it."

The truth is out and so is the tension on his shoulders. But his other friends were not exactly pleased. They cannot believe that the baby of the family would break so easily. And over a pizza?! Well, what would you expect from someone who can't resist this fast-food meal from Pizza Hut.

Raph drops his head but doesn't, for some reason, stops his knitting. "Idiot…" His younger brother can sure be a moron for ratting them out over the simplest of things.

Hearing what his son said, Splinter looked…very disturbed. O'Neil…and Hope? It can't be…

The aged rat drops his hands slightly and bows his furry head, looking very doomed from one of his son's confessions. It has been years since he has last heard of those names and now, that they have mixed up into the business of the Foot and them,…

"Oh no, my worst fears have been realised," he muttered.

That is when the leader of the team has come up with the solution to their problem. "Don't worry about it! Donnie erased the picture! We're not in danger." Leo assured his father. The two humans that they met last night are the ones who took the photo and they all managed to erase the evidence before any real damage was made. It would only leave a bizarre story for those girls who would to tell anyone if they can't keep their mouths shut.

But that is not what Splinter is worried about. Snapping out of his gloom, he faces his eldest son with a severe expression. "No. It's April O'Neil and Sally Hope who are in danger!" Wait? The two girls from the rooftops are the ones who are in danger and not them? Doesn't that work the other way around. Out from the corner of his beady eyes, Mikey took the time to hop down from his position and carefully inch his hand closer to the pizza slice still grasp in Splinter's hand. He flinches his hand, only because he thought he would be the victim of the tail that belongs to his master. Seeing the slight opening, he swipes the slice out of the rat's grip. He has finally got the prize …and the breakfast that he wanted. "Find the girls." Splinter orders as he points his finger to the ground. "Bring them here."

Donnie was still playing solo game of Ping-Pong on his little board. "But, sensei, you said to not to go abov—"

But the rat doesn't have time to quote the rule book. He throws his hands in the air. "Find the girls!"

Mikey was about to take the first bite but halts for a second and simply repeats his father's words in a more of a lovely tone unlike the rat's harsh tone. "Find the girls." Splinter quickly whips his head to his youngest son and simply glares at him. The orange turtle just simple shrugged his shoulders before he takes a quick bite.

Looks like Mikey's dream of seeing the girls will happen sooner than he thinks. But finding where these girls would take time and what better way to pass the time than to look up for their address. Once they have got the information, they will go find them and bring them to their father at his request…when the sun goes down.

It would seem that Splinter might know the girls. But they will come face-to-face. Very soon. But right now, let's see what happens when April and Sally find out more on Project Renaissance in:

Heroes in the Half-Shell: Project Renaissance

Author's Notes: Another short chapter done. And almost halfway there! Once this is done, I can finally get this off my chest and move on. Don't get me wrong. I do enjoy this movie. I tend to overthink a lot and obsess with perfection. Story of my life.

And nothing new but I'm on another run of the RotTMNT movie again. And again. And again. When am I going to stop? Until we get Season 3, maybe?

Anyway, bye for now!

Until we meet again,

The DragonLord2912