Chapter 01 - Outcasts

Today was Hamato Leonardo's first day at Manhattan Bridges High School. Actually, it was his first day of public school. Ever. So instead of waking up early for his usual meditation then homeschooling, he spent his morning double checking the supplies stuffed into his dark blue backpack. His three brothers had teased him for packing long before last night, but he couldn't help feeling he would miss an important item throughout the week. Somehow.

'They need to learn the importance of preparedness,' Leo thought while zipping up the backpack. 'A flashlight could be important, no matter what Raph says. I just wish I could take my Katanas as well…'

With a sigh, Leo stood in his quaint bedroom to glance at the neatly made bed behind him. Atop its ironed sheets twin Katanas laid side by side and despite the glimmering life in their Ito, they looked lonely, small even. The teen's back felt vulnerable in their absence—like a turtle without a shell. Unfortunately, many red flags would be raised if he brought them to school. Forget the attention it would bring, he'd also prove himself a rule-breaker on the first day.

If there's one thing he didn't want, it was a dirty reputation.

'I have enough to worry about. Don should be alright, but keeping Raph and Mikey in check will be a battle. How am I supposed to do that without giving myself away?'

The thought gave rise not only to annoyance, but fear as well. Chest tight, Leonardo glanced down at the gray sweater he wore. Its cuffs were pushed to his elbows, so he could detect the smooth collection of scales creeping down his strong forearms. Their yellow-green color had long-since been associated with a Green Anole, and Leo knew the only way to rid himself of the change was to calm down.

'Breathe, Leo,' he thought when faced with the dresser beside him. Gripping its coarse lip with scaly fingers, he stared into the mirror above it, gaze fixed on the green patches spreading over his narrow jaw line. 'Remember what Sensei taught you. You were created this way, but that doesn't mean you're victim to it. I won't have an outbreak at school. I won't…I can't.'

Right?

For a moment, Leo swore his reflection scoffed in disbelief, its defined lips turning into a mocking sneer while its skin grew sickly. Although the illusion lasted a moment, it cemented the doubts Leo kept buried, and he pushed back his dark hair with a single hand in old habit. Only his familiar brown eyes met him, however, their deep-set lids raised with expectation.

'Keep it together, man. We were the ones who convinced Sensei to enroll us, so we need to prove we can do this…even if few are fully convinced.'

"Oi, Fearless, we're headin' for the bus stop!"

Leonardo stepped back at Raphael's booming voice. A shake of his head placed him beside the backpack on the concrete floor, which he immediately picked up and slung over his shoulders. Its heavy weight rested like an anchor between his shoulder blades, but since it wasn't his Katanas, it felt hollow.

"Don't call me 'Fearless'!" Leo shot back after swinging open his bedroom door. He pulled his sleeves downwards—thankful they were now normal—then stalked down the hallway.


Hamato Raphael fiddled at the front door of his family's shack. Well, technically, it was considered an apartment near the slums. However, it was also a far-cry from a pent house or even a condo in Mid-Town. No amount of color, second-hand furniture, paintings or weeks of scrubbing dirt could hide the fact that the family of five lived in a concrete box with three stories and poor central air.

Raph heaved a sigh, listening for the thumps of Leonardo's boots down the solid stairs. When they neared, he lifted his head, meeting the eldest's brown eyes with a smirk.

"Yer response time's five seconds slow, Fearless," he noted in a gruff Brooklyn accent.

Leo blanched then glanced around. "Where are Mikey and Don?"

"Oh, they ain't here; I just wanted ta get ya movin'."

"Ugh, we're going to be late." The shaggy-haired teen spoke as if his controlled voice could reach two stories above them, and Raph folded his arms, leaning against the front door.

"Better take that up wit' the younger two, Dude."

"Believe me; I will," Leo said, straight-faced. Then, he twisted on a heel and marched back up the stairs at the cramped foyer's right side. It was a wonder how the lean teenage conquered them so quickly when his over-stuffed backpack weighed him down. Raph shook his head at the ridiculousness, noting movement in his peripheral vision.

"My son, is such a scanty bag fit for school?"

Raphael raised an eyebrow at his parent and master, Splinter. The forty-four-year-old sported his usual maroon kimono—which, despite the needed cane in his right hand, projected a sense of controlled danger as he approached. Raph had always found attractive power in the color; yet when compared to the reds he usually wore, they hardly seemed as impressive as his father's.

He felt somewhat unworthy in the master's presence and raised his simple backpack with a single finger. "How do ya know what's in it?"

"I had weighed it before you picked it up in the kitchen."

"Yeah? Well, I got what I need."

"Lunch?"

"An' a notebook."

"What about a writing tool?"

The teen shrugged. "Figured I'd take one from Leo. Or just make things wit' the paper."

"Raphael." Splinter sighed then settled both his hands on his cane when it clacked against the concrete floor. His slanted eyes settled on his son, their sharpness imposing in spite of their clouded nature. "If you four are to attend school, you must treat the opportunity with the up-most respect. This is a serious matter. I…I am ushering you into open society and there are chances that you could—"

"Be discovered; I know," Raph cut in while waving a hand.

The action brought his attention to it—to its warm skin tone and the subtle cracked appearance of his long palm and fingertips. The sections burned slightly under his gaze; but before they could bubble, he inhaled deeply then stuffed his hand into his hoodie's pouch.

"My old foe is present in this city," Splinter continued, softer. "If he knew you were alive…"

"If he's such a threat, why'd ya raise us here?"

"Because I felt a calling."

"Same answer as always. Still don't make any sense."

Splinter chuckled. "I had several chances to leave with you and your brothers. However, when it came to it, I could never take my eyes off my enemy. Though in his territory—this city—I feel safer than if we were in another state or even country."

"Don't feel hunted in the man's backyard, eh?" asked Raph.

"People tend to overlook what is in front of them." The master combed a hand through his salt and pepper locks then brought that same hand down the side of his face. Today, his wrinkles appeared deeper than usual.

"Don't worry, Sensei," Raph started in all seriousness. "I won't let anythin' happen ta my bros. Even if Saki, Shredder, whatever he wants ta call himself, makes a move on 'em, I'll protect 'em."

"I do not doubt that, my son,' said Splinter, raising a hand to place on Raphael's shoulder. They shared a quick smile, yet the tender action was crushed under the loud commotion upstairs.

"That bein' said, I may throw Mikey off the bus," the teen added while glowering.

Splinter only laughed in reply.


Hamato Donatello sank lower into his seat in the school bus' middle row. What could be more embarrassing than having to chase the bus before your first time riding it? Nothing. He had been the one to squeeze his fingers through the front door's rubber lining so the driver would take them seriously, and not one student let him forget it. Their laughing eyes told the truth, tales of what a dork they saw.

Figures.

He never could outrun the title, could he? Others took one glance at his pale completion and curly hair and assumed by his physic that he couldn't possibly be anything more. Sure, he could run circles around Einstein fanatics, but just because he wasn't as chiseled as his brothers didn't mean he was any less capable. Not that they knew of such powerful strength. And despite exchanging his black glasses for contacts, he fell into the stereotype without a chance to prove otherwise.

At least he wasn't the only one to make a spectacle of himself.

"Damn bus driver," Raphael growled while clenching the pitiful backpack.

Don let his seat partner fume a moment, yet when the bag began to subtly smoke he shook his older brother's shoulder. "Careful with the acid, Raph."

The tan teen snorted at his brother's undertone then crossed his arms.

"At least he stopped," Don added. "Think, if we had been late on our first day—'

"I dun really care about tardiness."

"Oh?" Don's lips pursed then turned into a frown when Raph's amber eyes glanced his way like two bright stars. "First, calm down; your eyes are glowing. Second, you should care. I actually find it rather surprising you placed as high as Leo during the entrance exams."

"That's 'cuz I kind'a cheated."

"You what?"

"Not so loud, Dude."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"You—Raph!"

"Hey"—Raph rubbed his palm against the facial stubble along his strong jaw—"ya jumped up to the last grade, despite bein' sixteen. An' there was no way in hell I was bein' stuck as a Freshman with Mikey."

"Academically speaking, that's where you should be," Don countered. He glanced over Raph's spiked hair towards the bus' opposite side, where Leo fought to keep Mikey in the window. It did little good.

"Yeah, see? Ain't bein' stuck in a classroom all day wit' that. Bad enough I live wit' him."

"And you think you'll do better with Leo in eleventh grade?"

"I'll manage."

"You sure?" Donatello narrowed his eyes—a tense action. "That means you can't start a fight like at home. No matter how flustered you are with him."

"Don't worry," Raphael retorted, gaze set ahead. "I got this."

"If you say so…" Don settled into silence as Raph broke out his MP3 player. He couldn't help smiling at it, though. Despite his title as a dork or geek, his brothers still appreciated all he did; including home-made gifts.


Seniors called freshmen 'fresh meat'? Seriously? That was a real thing? Hamato Michelangelo could hardly believe it when a couple of jocks made the announcement at the school's front steps. All well; made no difference to him. Currently, he was more focused on how grandiose the entrance of Manhattan Bridges High looked.

"This is the biggest building we've ever been in," Donatello remarked at Mikey's left.

Mikey nodded slowly then glanced at Leonardo on his right. "Think we'll lose each other?"

"We're in three different classes," the shaggy-haired brother replied. He scanned the sea of students that speed-walked around the quartet. "We're bound the split up anyway."

"Right; split up…"

The words marinated in Mikey's stomach, turning it sour as his blue eyes scanned the stone structure he approached. He'd never been split from his brothers before. Maybe for an evening or so, but that somehow felt different than being divided into separate classrooms. It was as if the rooms were other worlds, and he would be alone in his. That is, unless he…

"Are we going to make friends?" the youngest questioned in a high voice. His head whipped from one brother to the next so fast that tidbits of his honey blonde hair bounced in his peripheral vision, his dense dusting of freckles no doubt crinkling when he grinned. "Like, real friends?"

"Maybe," Donny muttered while resituating his purple-striped backpack.

"I'm here for curiosity; not friends," Raph interjected. He received a harsh jab from Leo's elbow.

"Liar," the eldest said with a hollow grin. He then faced Mikey, who walked backwards. "Our priority should be education. Secondary, is social skills."

"So, that's a 'yes'?" asked Mikey cheekily.

"A 'yes' with a warning. You must be careful, Mikey. When you get overexcited, you tend to—"

Leo cut himself off for some reason. The blonde cocked his head under the eldest's stern stare before glancing at his sneakers. They marched up and down so quickly, they could hardly be seen as anything more than an orange blur. The urge was typical for his super speed, so it required a great amount of concentration for Mikey to rein back the energy. When his feet marched regularly, a sheepish smile spread over his face.

"Mikey," Leonardo started, "if you can't control your mutation—"

"I can! I can!" Mikey jumped while mounting the staircase behind him, though he must've jumped a little too high in the noisy bustle of students because Raph pushed him down by the shoulder.

"Then prove it," the amber-eyed teen spat.

"I will!" Mikey countered, blowing a raspberry.

"I know you have it in you, Mikey," said Leo in complete reassurance. His umber gaze drifted from his youngest brother to the other two as they stood yards from the metal detectors they would soon enter. "Remember; here, we're not outcasts. We're regular kids. It's the fresh start we wanted, right?"

Mikey nodded along with his siblings.

"Then that means complete secrecy. Our powers are to remain hidden and we are not, under any circumstances, Mikey"—Leo stared fixedly at Michelangelo—"to brag about our ninja status."

"But—"

"Under. No. Circumstance. Got it?"

The blue-eyed teen pouted under Leonardo's imposing glare, yet heaved a sigh that weighted his shoulders. "Got it."

"Good. Now let's get going before we're late."

"If ya say so, oh perfect one," Raph commented.

Leo let him pass; Mikey knew that was to keep a backhand at bay and scoffed lightly.

Leo was worrying about him, the speedster? If anything, Raph and Leo were in more danger of blowing their covers. They tended to lose themselves in their alpha fights. So Mikey couldn't help wondering how long the brothers would attend as 'normal' students.