A/N:
Wow, already on Chapter 3! So far, my friends have really liked this chapter, so I hope you guys do too!
And wow, this week has been rough for me. I'd just like to take the time to remind you guys that if you know someone who is struggling with self-harm/suicidal thoughts, to please alert someone (an adult) about it. Even if it can possibly damage or tarnish the friendship, even if you're scared that they will hate you for it, please contact someone and help them receive the help they need. Sometimes you must sacrifice a relationship to save a life.
On a lighter note, I'd like to thank Beakers47 for sending in such an encouraging review that lifted my spirits this week. You're all so wonderful and I am very grateful for all of my readers!
Anyways, enjoy Chapter 3: Searching for Guidance!
XXX
Chapter 3: Searching for Guidance
Music is most often portrayed as a form of self-expression, a way to bridge and connect to other human souls through simple rhythms and poetic stitching of words. This definition was no exception for Raphael, as creating and arranging certain vibrations and sounds channeled his explosive energy into something less destructive. It was his cliché version of therapy, something father supported since way back in his youth.
Somewhere along his rocky road of a childhood.
There was an indescribable experience when feeling the guitar strings under his fingertips, the reverberating notes and chords coursing through his entire body and circuiting through his bones. Raph had been playing the guitar for a handful of years now, but it had only become a crucial portion of his life when he met Casey Jones in the seventh grade.
At first, Jones was beyond aggravating to Raph, the cocky, stubborn, class clown that everyone could do without. Turns out he still was that five years later, except now Raph definitely could not do without. Forming a bond over their mutual love for destruction and justice, the two eventually clicked and became inseparable friends. Crime-fighting such as beating school bullies, however, escalated when it transitioned into pounding Purple Dragon gang members. Higher risks. Deeper consequences.
Luckily, Raph had managed to convince Casey to focus his determination on their common interest in music rather than wagering and looking for trouble.
The two currently occupied the lonely garage of the shop, Raph gently strumming and spinning in a swivel chair while Casey blew the dark hair that fell in his eyes with impatience.
The auto shop was never just an auto shop for Raph and Casey, but in matter of fact, a diverse, multipurpose area. Ever since middle school, the garage was an escape from school and parents, or a place to work out, or more often than not, a practice room for their band. Countless sleepovers were recalled to take place upon the loft up the stairs, but even more memories were simply of him laughing with his best friend.
With a rusty-orange atmosphere, the garage tended to create a warming sense of innocent security for Raphael. Visiting the setting had become ritual for about a couple months now.
"How long has it been?" Casey groaned, his drum throne squeaking underneath him. Raph pulled his cellphone from his pocket, lighting up the screen.
"Almost two hours," he aimed to answer in an upbeat way, but missed the mark.
"Dude, no one is coming."
"Hey, you don't know that. I put audition flyers around the whole school, someone's bound to show up."
Casey raised an eyebrow with skepticism. "Why have you been so overly optimistic lately? It's starting to creep me out."
"I don't know. Why are you acting so uncharacteristically pessimistic?" Raph asserted playfully. Casey only shrugged in response, almost as if bewildered by the realization himself.
"I guess when one of us acts like that," Raph smirked, gesturing to Casey before gesturing to himself, "The other acts like this."
Suddenly, footsteps from outside snatched the boys' attention. Raph ceased spinning in his seat, toes touching concrete as he then stood tall. Gripping his guitar tighter out of instinct, the teenager leaned closer towards the mouth of the garage. Each mysterious step a crescendo as it came closer towards them in the garage, making his heart pound harder with anticipation. Excitement expanded in his chest like a balloon, a smile just waiting to blossom, but still he held back.
"Hey guys!"
And the balloon popped. The recognizable voice echoed off the walls of the empty auto shop, bouncing off of Raph and filling him up with frustration.
"Mikey, what the hell are you doing here?"
With a skateboard in one hand and an ukulele in the other, a vainglorious smile spread across Michelangelo's freckled face. The pompoms dangling from his beanie swayed from the previous movement as he puffed up with confidence. "Because," he told Raph, walking inside and setting his skateboard down before reaching under his beanie and pulling out a paper, "This flyer at school said you needed a new band member, and I came here to deliver."
Casey scowled, looking over to Raph with his eyebrows upturned and pinched with doubt and distress.
Mikey was ignorant to Casey's facial expression and social cues, adjusting the ukulele in the crook of his arm before beginning to play without hesitation.
Soft, delicate music gracefully surrounded the garage. A sound that would bring euphony to most, but certainly not to Raphael.
"Mikey," Raph shouted over the picking of strings, "We aren't looking for an ukulele player, we need a lead vocalist."
The little brother proceeded to open his mouth, but before a melody could even be sung, he cut him off again.
"We don't want runts in our band, capeesh?"
Mikey pouted, clutching his ukulele and blowing a raspberry before going over to search for a vacant chair to sit on.
Raph curmudgeonly wished his brother could be anywhere else but here with him.
"Where are your little friends?" Raph asked as Mikey discovered a folding chair, "Shouldn't you be hanging out with them?"
Setting himself down, Mikey subconsciously plucked the strings of his ukulele as he thought. "Well, Napoleon was studying, Jason went to the dentist, aaand Renet has family night."
Raph pinched the bridge of his nose, "Then why couldn't you have just stayed home and hung out with Donnie instead of coming to annoy us?"
The small wooden ukulele now rested silently on Mikey's lap. A brief pause. "Y'know D's not very much of a conversationalist these days." Blonde bangs swept in front of the round, blue eyes that blinked up at him.
Raphael sighed deeply, almost to where it felt like it rattled in his lungs. The sad statement was known to be a true one.
"Also," Mikey continued, "Leo told me to go out and get my mind off of Peter. He thinks I'm thinking about it way too much."
Two guilt trips in a row, huh?
Sympathy angrily ate away at him. "Ok, fine."
"Who's Pete—"
"Don't even bother asking, Casey."
"Besides, Casey's my friend too." Mikey swung his backpack off his shoulder, joy returning to his attitude once more. "Hey Case, I brought the number one spring issue of Wignut and Screwloose," he coaxed as he took out the new comic book.
Enthusiasm sparked in Casey's eyes, silently gasping and marveling at the stapled pieces of paper. "Sweet!" Casey exclaimed, quickly grabbing the comic and rapidly flipping through the pages.
Raph rolled his eyes at the immaturity of his friend, but once again, a sound snagged his focus and tugged him backward. Naturally, he craned his neck towards the noise, his long dark hair fell in front of his face.
Purring of a motorcycle rumbled nearby, causing Casey and Mikey to stand and straighten up. Gradually roaring louder, it was evident that the vehicle was heading towards their location. Raph grasped his guitar once more, curiosity bundling inside him as he decided to check out who was arriving.
Shambling over, Raphael peered outside, Casey following behind him, and Mikey most likely behind Casey.
Just then, the motorcycle turned into the alleyway, its rider decelerating to a halt.
Chunks of gravel jarred against asphalt, the revivifying scent of gasoline making his nostrils flare. Raph glanced over his shoulder to see Mikey covering his ears, being that he wasn't used to the loud volume the motorcycle produced. But Raph had grown accustomed to it, growing up around the crowd he had. And yet, it was clear that he had never seen this character around.
It was a tall slender figure, their back towards the three of them and identity still hidden. Adorned with a leather jacket, gloved hands reached for the top of their bike helmet, carefully removing it from their head.
A mane of hair was exposed, curly coils splaying in all directions as they shook their head with liberation. And that was when they ultimately turned around, Raph seeing their face for the first time.
There was something about her hazel eyes —something that made Raphael feel as if the sun had just come out from behind dark clouds. Angels almost appeared to chorus, the cheesy scene in all movies seeming to play right before him. The teen couldn't help but be bewitched and drawn to the beautiful stranger, and although her eyes glowed like fiery suns, he couldn't help but notice how chilled and moonstruck he really was.
With her light eyes contrasting against her dark smooth skin, a pink bandana was loosely tied around her neck, her crop top revealing her midriff as she sauntered over his way.
"I assume you two are Raphael Hamato and Casey Jones?"
Smoothness coated every syllable, making Raph's knees go weak and his mind draw blank.
Fortunately, Casey swooped in. "Yup, that's us. And I assume you're here to audition for our band?" the boy said with childlike hope.
She flashed a smile, "Yeah—what is your band called, anyway?"
Nervously pushing the hair out of his eye, Raph eventually managed to expel the lump in his throat. "Well, uh, we're a bit undecided. Casey usually changes it every day."
A soft laugh made Raph's face feel warm.
"Well, let's get this party started yo!" Mikey didn't waste any time to run up, take the girl by the hand, and drag her into the garage. Raph blinked, trying to catch up to speed on what exactly was happening.
Casey then clapped a hand on his shoulder, making him stumble a bit, "C'mon dude, let's see if she has what it takes to hang with us."
That was enough for Raph to get ahold of his senses. Picking up the pace, he and Casey reentered the auto garage, Mikey handing her the microphone from the stand.
"Mike, leave her alone," Raph snapped, desperate for Mikey to just go away. But the young girl only giggled at the antics.
"So, how does this audition work?" she asked, appearing cool, calm, and collected.
"Well," Casey began to explain, heading towards his drum set, "We're gonna play a song we wrote, and you just have to jump in whenever you can." The rowdy teen then reached into his back pocket, taking out what looked like trash.
"Here are the lyrics," Casey handed her the scrap. Being irresolute, she eventually took it gingerly.
"You scrawled the lyrics on a napkin?" she crinkled her nose with confusion.
Raph face-palmed, embarrassment coloring his cheeks.
"Yeah, wrote them on the way here," Casey said with no hint of shame.
"Let's just start already," Raph interjected, trying to eliminate anymore humiliation that could be caused by either Casey or Mikey.
Hearing the crackle after plugging in his guitar into the amp, Raph nodded to Casey before returning his concentration back to the girl. She read the pen marks on the napkin, eyes shifting from lyric to lyric as an obvious attempt to memorize.
Raising his sticks, Casey banged them together over his head.
"One, two, three, four!"
There was no need for Raph to stare at his guitar—he could play the song in his sleep. This freed mental space so that he could now immerse himself with the cryptic singer.
Counting beats by bouncing her leg, it was evident how diligent she was. Experience was present simply in her posture and levelheadedness. Inching closer to the microphone, she opened her mouth.
Melodies entangled him, smothering him and making him forget how to breathe. Like a siren in the ocean, her voice lured his interest even more than before, waves crashing in all around him. Gentle and relaxing like a summer breeze, yet holding back a powerful storm.
Lifting his feet to move over to her felt like wading through sand, legs weak and feet heavy, but it didn't stop him nevertheless.
She had even possessed the ability to transform Jones's failed attempt at song lyrics to sound like heavenly poetry—something Raph didn't think could be possible. Neither did he think it was possible for him to feel this way from singing, especially from someone he had never seen or heard before.
The girl closed her eyes, fingers lightly lacing the microphone as she allowed to get lost in the music. As Raph continued to stare, he found himself lost as well.
But suddenly, Raph's hand slipped, causing him mess up the chord and to lose track of where he was in the song. The girl opened her eyes to give Raph a look of concern. Pulling himself together, Raph stood stiff.
"That's enough Case, we don't need to hear anymore."
Casey squinted suspiciously at him, but shrugged anyway.
"You were pretty good," Casey got on his two feet, "But my partner and I will have to talk this over."
Obeying Casey's gesture for him to speak to him privately, Raph, Casey, and Mikey all huddled together a few feet away from their audition participant.
"Is this really necessary? She was the only person to show up—"
"I call this band meeting to order," Casey whispered, checking to see if the stranger was eavesdropping.
Rolling his eyes, Raph whispered back, "Look, she was perfect. Perfect timing, didn't make my ears bleed like you do, and the fact that she is literally the only other person in this room besides us."
Casey was silent for a second before leaning in closer, "But does she, you know, look the part?"
"I let you be in this band, didn't I?"
"Oh, snap! Burn!" Mikey said a little too loudly. "And even though I'm technically not in this band," the youngest continued, "She has my vote, ten out of ten!"
"For once, I actually agree with Mikey," Raph folded his arms, "It's decided, ok? She deserves to be in."
Casey pondered for a moment. "Hmm, I guess so."
"Aw yeah!" Mikey grinned, charging over to the newest band member with starry eyes. "Great news, you're going to Hollywood! Or, at least you're in the band."
Tailing after Mikey, Raph rubbed the back of his neck, trying his best not to smile at the look of delight on the singer's face.
"I'm so glad I can be a part of this," she said heartily, "Thank you."
"Uh, no, thank you," Raph avoided eye contact.
"Practices are here on Tuesdays," Casey stepped in, adding actual important information.
"Alright, I should be going now. Goodbye Casey, goodbye Raphael."
And just like that, the young girl headed outside.
"This is great!" Raph exclaimed as he set down his guitar, "Raphael, Casey, and..." Realization struck him like a ton of bricks.
"Dude, you did not just totally forget to ask what her name was," Mikey teased.
He could only glare at Mikey, anger being pushed to the side as he quickly went out to chase after his new band mate.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Raph called out, catching her starting up her motorcycle.
"What's your name?"
With the helmet tucked under her arm, the girl simpered at him.
"Mona."
She gave a flirtatious wink before placing the helmet back on her head, kicking up pebbles as she exited the alleyway.
Night had fallen silent once that motorcycle was out of earshot, an aching feeling of emptiness forming in the pit of his stomach.
Footsteps behind him blared against the silence.
"So, dude, what's her name?"
Raph bit his lip to keep his smile from getting any bigger.
"Mona. Her name is Mona."
XXX
Click, click, click.
Yellow sunshine leaked from in between the blinds, pooling itself onto the sailboat-patterned comforter. He checked the time—7:38 a.m. . Pressing his pen repetitively, Mikey wrinkled his nose in concentration. He had to hurry if he wanted to catch Leo before his shift began.
Peter Brood had disappeared more than a week ago, and there were still no signs of him or his captors. It was almost as if he was gradually being swept under the rug, gradually being erased from existence. But with pen and paper in hand, Mikey made a consolation that he would make sure that Pete's story would stay written.
Michelangelo lied on his bed, feet kicking against the sailboat-wheel headboard as he reread the words he printed on the white page. It was almost finished, just needed last few touches and a pinch of Mikey-magic to tie the piece together. He had to be convincing, had to be smart and calculated on this approach if he wanted to get what he wanted out of Leonardo.
To Mikey, it didn't seem like such a huge deal. In fact, it just seemed like it was a task his oldest brother should do.
But to Leo—Leo tended to blow things way out of proportion, at least as of late. Every single little detail that related to their father was too painful for him to bear.
Biting the tip of the pen, the boy was impressed with the eloquence of the speech he had written, pleading to the spirits that it was persuasive enough to push Leo into becoming his stopgap sensei.
Leonardo, Raphael, and Donatello had all managed to graduate to full ninja before he had. Due to lost time and misfortunes in his youth, Michelangelo had fallen way behind in his training. Father had promised to teach him until he had graduated. But destiny apparently had other plans.
Shifting his weight caused the bed to creak as he sat up with his legs crossed, rereading his proposal for the fifth time that Saturday morning. Pigeon Pete and the others were depending on him. New York was depending on him. And becoming a ninja was the first step.
Inhaling a deep breath, he slid off the bed and felt the cold floor with his bare feet. It was wonderful to be back in his old skin, to be back into his hopeful, optimistic mindset. It was home—he hadn't even noticed he was homesick until then. Years of being away, years of being lost without even realizing. Everything would be smooth sailing from here on out.
Script in hand, the youngest maneuvered through the jungle that was his bedroom, hopping on over to track down Leo before the Saturday really started.
Fortunately, Leonardo hadn't departed for duty yet, sitting on the footstool and cramming cereal in his mouth. Dressed in uniform, his dark blue eyes were sharp and focused, but focused on something Mikey couldn't see. It was something that only Leo could, something encrypted solely in the inner workings of his mind; the invisible weight of the eldest's responsibilities caused his shoulders to sag and his whole spirit to be pinned to the floor. And even though his brother was near him, it was as plain as day that Leo was miles and miles away.
Perhaps Leo's conspicuous aloofness could be used to his advantage. He could be too distracted with buzzing thoughts to really argue and turn down his request. Guilt made its guest appearance as strategies wired themselves for Mikey's plot.
Paper crinkled under his fingers.
"Morning Leo," he said casually, as if he weren't standing there silently for thirty seconds.
Spoon jangling against the ceramic bowl, Leo lifted his gaze towards him. "Hey Mikey," he greeted tiredly, getting up to place his empty dish in the sink.
Mikey cleared his throat, glancing down at his script before looking back up at him.
"Leo, I've been thinking a lot about—"
"Don't forget to take your medicine this morning," Leo cut off absentmindedly.
Caught off guard by the interruption, Mikey squinted at his brother's distant behavior. Why randomly bring that up?
"Leo, don't worry, I never forget to take it. But I want to talk to you about something—"
"You almost forgot the night you found out about Pete. You wouldn't have taken it if I didn't remind you."
"Leo," Mikey impatiently dashed over behind the counter, going and tugging Leo's sleeve, "You're not listening to me!"
Michelangelo tried his best to put on a serious face, growing frustrated that his brother tended to not take him genuinely.
Leo blinked a few times, eyes now wide as if he had just woken up. Turning off the faucet, the oldest then bent down to his level, devoting one-on-one eye contact.
"Sorry, what is it?"
Now or never. An opportunity like this may not come back for days. Mikey puffed out his cheeks, once again checking his paper to guide him on what to say.
"I know you've been worried about me and how I'm dealing with Pete's kidnapping," Mikey rocked back and forth on his heels nervously, "And you're right. It's totally killing my positive vibes and making me a total bummer. So, I've been thinking of things I can do to take my mind off of it." The boy paused, trying to read Leonardo's face so far; it was untranslatable, facial expression like stone. He bit the inside of his cheeks as he mustered courage before continuing his pitch.
"I miss the dojo," he confessed, "I miss pursuing ninjutsu. You and Raph and Donnie all graduated to ninjas, but I never did. I think it really helped me deal with things when I was a kid, so maybe it could help me now."
The emotion he displayed may have been an act at first, but staring into the starry eyes of his brother made his scripted words come alive, real pain beginning to seep through.
A soft, sympathetic sigh slipped between Leo's lips as Mikey watched him place a hand on his shoulder. That couldn't be a good sign.
"I'm really sorry father never had the chance to graduate you to a full ninja, I really am."
Sorrow and discomfort pulled Mikey's eyes to the floor, his heart sinking like an anchor.
Leo went on to add, "Things will balance out for us eventually. Life seems to have us in some, crazy whirlpool lately, huh? Throwing us in circles..." The same distant look reappeared, Leo going quiet before picking it back up. "But I promise the waters will calm and everything will level out. In the meantime, you don't need to hurt yourself by digging into the past. You don't need to worry about it."
That was just like Leo—to carry all the burden on his own, telling others to not worry when he was doing just that. Maybe, Mikey thought, that Leo doing this would not only benefit and distract himself, but him as well.
This would be a good thing, this would stitch the gaps in their family, fill all the missing pieces. A sense of normality was all they needed.
Hoisting his hopes, Mikey picked his eyes and heart off the floor.
"But, maybe now you can teach me!" he gave a toothy grin, trying his best to dial up his classic charm. "You could be my new sensei!"
The room went stiff. Leo's grip on his shoulder was freed, Leo taken aback and face contorting almost as if he were insulted.
"No."
A lump formed in his throat at the stern rejection. Leo shooting down his ideas was common, but this dark tone wasn't. At least never directed at him. He wondered if he had done something wrong for him to not want him as a student.
"Wha-what?" Mikey mentally kicked himself for sounding so weak. But Leo shook his head, walking towards the front door.
"I know what you're doing Mikey, I'm not stupid," he said harshly, "I know you want to learn ninjutsu so you can go out and use the skills against Purple Dragons. I told you that you cannot get involved with them."
He knows Mikey panicked inwardly. He should've known Leo was too keen. Or maybe he should've known he wasn't smart enough to trick his oldest brother.
In this state of panic, the boy impulsively blurted out, "This has nothing to do with the Purple Dragons!"
A lie. I just told a lie, the words flashed like sirens in his mind. But he couldn't stop—the small lie that trickled out now opened the floodgate.
"Being a ninja is part of who I am!" he kept at it, "I shouldn't have to give that up! Father would've wanted you to teach me! You were his top student, he would want you to be my sensei!"
He stamped his foot in frustration, narrowing his eyebrows as he tried his best to understand why Leo was acting like this. Swept with sudden emotion, Mikey held back salty tears that threatened to gush from the floodgate as well. But Leo swerved around, biting his lip as if to keep reckless words spilling over.
"Michael, stop putting words in father's mouth," he pointed an authoritative finger at him, "You don't know that that's what he would've said, alright? I'm not qualified to be your sensei."
"Yes, you are! Father would totally—"
"Stop using him as a form of guilt trip! You think tagging the word 'father' after every request will make me do whatever you want? How would you know what he would say, you're nothing like him!"
Goosebumps prickled his skin. The morning chorus of birds from outside was the indication of how silent it had become in the small apartment.
Mikey's waterworks welled up in his eyes, going and crossing his arms to avoid further humiliation. The boy refused to cry.
He had got to learn to be less sensitive.
But perhaps the lack of verbal response was what gave the sensitivity away. Mikey watched as Leo sighed in defeat, relaxed himself a bit, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I'm not saying that you should completely give up a part of who you are," Leonardo gently gripped the doorknob, but stood still, "Maybe after everything dies down with the gang violence, maybe then we can find someone to teach you."
"But Leo—"
"Goodbye, Mike."
The door opened, and the door closed. Not only had Leo left, but Mikey's opportunity.
Michelangelo groaned loudly at his failure, grabbing his head and pulling at his blonde curls. Flopping onto the nearby couch, Mikey blinked the leftover tears, trying to rid of them as quickly as possible.
Tears rolled off his cheeks as he gazed at the ceiling. Staring at it. It seeming to inch closer and closer and weigh on his chest.
He couldn't give up, not now. Not only were Peter and all of New York depending on him, but he knew—he knew deep down in his heart—that his father was too.
Kokestu ni irazunba koji wo ezu.
XXX
His short fuse had been lit from the previous argument, explosive emotions such as frustration, hurt, and regret burning in his chest.
How would you know what he would say, you're nothing like him!
Leonardo shook his head as if to get the words to quit ringing in his ears. He was aware that it was a bit brutal. He hadn't meant to drop such a destructive bomb, but wavering his father and using him as a weapon against him—he was sure that that was more painful.
"Officer Sibley, continue your assignment on..." Chief Zeno's voice faded in and out of Leo's consciousness, too heated up for his own good.
Usually, the briefing room was cold, still, and seemingly lifeless. But that morning, it felt as if the walls were caving in, and a raging fire surrounded him.
He needed to shake it off, keep home life and work separate, forget about it, put the flames out even if it seemed impossible.
Stares seared into his skin, Leo glancing over to see Usagi looking perturbed by his behavior.
Are you ok?—Leo could tell that that was on the tip of Usagi's tongue.
Inhaling a deep breath, the young rookie attempted to extinguish the anger inside him, exhaling the smoke that clouded his judgment and tainted his mood.
"I'm fine," he whispered to him, "Just a little disagreement between Mikey and I this morning. No big deal."
"That is all, you're dismissed," Zeno then called out, straightening papers at his podium.
Leo scrunched his nose. He couldn't have possibly forgotten to hand him and Usagi an assignment, could he?
"Ch—"
"Oh, and Miyamoto, Hamato, please come and see me."
Leo shot a look to Usagi for answers, but his friend was just as clueless. If only he had had a map to guide him on Zeno's unpredictable behavioral patterns, maybe then the briefing session wouldn't be so stressful.
Pushing himself out of his chair, Leo let Usagi lead him to the Chief this time. Things didn't work out so well the last time he approached the man on his own.
Being escorted and now standing in front of the sizable podium made Leo feel as if he was in the principal's office, foolish tenseness drumming his nerves. He hadn't done anything wrong, but anxiety went to its memory files to double check.
"Yes sir?" Usagi asked respectfully.
The Chief scanned him and Usagi, eyes retreating to mysterious manila folders. He tapped his fingers. A heavy sigh.
Finally, the man's rusty voice interrupted and broke through the awkward quietness. "Don't get too big of a head now, Hamato," was the first thing he said, peering sharply behind the folders in his chapped hands. "But I think I've found a small window of opportunity for you and Miyamoto."
The mental search for mistakes came to a sudden stop, Leo taking a few seconds to take in what Zeno just told him.
"What do—"
"There's a case about low-grade thieves," Chief Zeno slid the case folder to the two of them, "Robbing hospitals for morphine, Dilaudid, benzodiazepines. Just two sloppy, drug dealers desperate for their next fixes."
Despite just hearing about a crime, happiness tempted Leo's lips to curve.
"Detectives have already pinned down their patterns. The two of them are predicted to arrive at a designated time." Chief Zeno gently opened to folder, revealing information on the case. "Because they don't have any correlation to the Purple Dragons and don't perceive to be too much of a threat, I'm entrusting you and Miyamoto to catch and arrest them."
Keeping a straight face was now unavoidable, Leo smiling from ear to ear upon receiving an actual case.
"If you're able to successfully arrest these men," Zeno stared right into Leonardo's eyes, "I will highly consider giving you both an assignment involving the Purple Dragons. Am I clear?"
Leo's drastic mood changes were starting to make him dizzy, but he nodded nevertheless.
"Yes, loud and clear sir, we won't let you down—I won't let you down!"
His partner laughed lightly, anchoring Leo by placing a hand on his shoulder. Picking up the folder, Usagi headed towards the door.
"C'mon rookie, we have a patrol car to inspect."
Leo quickly followed his FTO, practically beaming and unable to hide his young excitement.
For once, he didn't mind being called a rookie. And for the first time in a while, he didn't even think to stop to see Detective Kurtzman.
XXX
Click, click, click.
"It's just not fair—why does Leo have to be so bossy? He's our older brother, but he's not like, the leader of us or anything."
Mikey typed on the keyboard with a single finger, still dealing with the aftermath of the disaster that took place that morning. He had retreated to his bedroom, and hadn't come out since. Raph and Donnie didn't seem to notice, or care for that matter. And for once, he didn't mind at all.
The boy sat crisscrossed on his bed, speaking to his cat for any sense of consolation and laptop resting on his legs.
Donatello had given him one of his old laptops last year, one that fortunately still functioned correctly. Most of the time.
"And what did he mean that I'm 'nothing like dad'?" The boy puffed his cheeks, blowing a raspberry when he couldn't hold his breath any longer. "Leo's nothing like him either...Right, Klunk?"
With a mighty leap, the orange fur ball landed on the bed next to him at the sound of her name, trotting over and rubbing her head against his arm.
"At least you agree with me," he smiled, bringing Klunk to his chest, kissing the top of her head before releasing her and going back to typing and suppressing his hurt feelings.
Baby blue eyes glazed the screen, focusing intensely on the Google search bar.
"Leo doesn't understand that there is no time to wait," he continued to vent to his feline friend, "And if he won't help me, I guess I'll have to do this all on my own."
Still staring at the search bar, his fingers glossed over the keys effortlessly, watching as each letter appeared.
Ninjutsu dojos near me
"Simple enough." Mikey smiled, proud that he was actually putting his goal into action. For the first time in maybe his whole life, he didn't feel completely helpless and dependent. He wasn't going to let anything, or Leo, get in his way.
Scrolling down, a short list of dojos just a few miles away had popped up.
He was aware that he'd have to research pricing and session details, and all of them seemed to be promising, but there was one that he was unexplainably drawn to.
"What do you think about this one Klunk?"
It was close, it seemed professional.
He read the name aloud.
"Bradford's Dojo—it has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
Michelangelo silently dragged the cursor.
Click.
XXX
Preview for Chapter 4: Step Ahead !
"Nothing really—I just got an email from an unrecognizable address is all."
"Mr. Bradford?"
The hand trailed down with the same pace and smoothness as rainwater trickling down glass. Leo watched intently. It stopped. And when it did, so did Leo's heart.
Coming out September 15 !
XXX
QEB DLLA XOB KBSBO BXPV,
QEB BXPV KBSBO DLLA.