A/N:
Ah, here we are, already half way done with Part 1: Shaded Sunrise, I can't believe it! There are five more chapters after this, and an epilogue to gear for Double Helix Part 2.
So, how are you guys liking it so far? I was so excited to bring Harmony into this story. :-) This chapter hopefully will help remind everyone on what all the characters are up to.
Sadly, there will be a short hiatus, and Chapter 6 will be published October 20th. This is for a few reasons, but a main reason is so I have time to finish up chapters 7-10 lol.
If you guys wish to contact me, my Instagram is also hamatomichelangelo !
Thank you for all the nice reviews! Now, let's see what the Hamato boys are up to…
XXX
Chapter 5: Silent Cessation
Tangible pieces of debris left behind by the disaster of grief were the only things that could ever satisfy his hunger for bittersweet nostalgia. Touching these objects always left an awful aftertaste, but it now became an addiction.
At first, these bits of treasure were too overwhelming for Leonardo, and the simplest reminders of his father were hidden and buried. Most of these objects of his past way of life were thrown into his father's bedroom, locked away with no key.
Though that key found its way into Leonardo's hand at some point, and unlocked his heart as well. Tampering with these remnants stung at first, but eventually they became a remedy.
Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo were mystified when they discovered that he moved into their father's bedroom, being that he had once converted this room into a sacred sanctuary full of priceless relics to be left untouched.
Logically, moving in gave the boys more space. It was a milestone for him. Progress.
Creases curved from under him, cool silk cushioning his skin as if laying on a cloud. These bedsheets were imprinted with his father's scent, an odd thing that gave Leo comfort.
Eyes gazed at the ceiling, making invisible patterns. Events curled like smoke around him, recollections making him feel like he was levitating—like he was inches from the ceiling. Leo was entranced, staring as if looking for constellations. Or maybe consolations.
He closed his eyes.
With a rise and fall of his chest, memories from recent encounters replayed behind eyelids like a movie screen.
"She knew my name, Usagi. She knows who I am," he brushes Usagi away, rushing to the patrol car in a flurry.
Attempting to catch up, his partner called from behind, "Maybe you misheard?"
"I know what I heard. She called me Leonardo. She must be keeping tabs on us, for whatever reason. We're being personally targeted." He stops once arriving to the car, tempted to childishly strike it. Whether out of fear or out of anger, he doesn't know at the moment.
Usagi follows, now opening the car door as he slightly shivers from the night chill, almond eyes gleaming at him. "We can keep our guards up, but please do realize that everything will be taken care of. We got this under control. Please, for your wellbeing, relax."
Leo rubbed his face. The mysterious Harmony was a contradiction to her own name, adding more to the bitter concoction of his life. Who is she? What is she doing? Why now?
Maybe Usagi was right in this instance. Maybe he needed to allow this to be out of his hands, out of his control. Maybe he just needed to take some time catch the breath that seemed to constantly elude from him.
Leonardo sat up at the end of his father's bed.
Hooking his feet off the side of the bed, he managed to stand on his own two feet. The young man trudged over to the master bathroom, going and turning on the faucet and putting his hands under cold running water. He splashed his face a few times, waking him up as he hoped his anxiety would also wash down the drain.
Leo lifted his head and faced the mirror. Messy dark hair fell in the center of his forehead, an old Space Heroes t-shirt draped over his tired body.
When was the last time he even watched his favorite T.V. show? Inspecting himself without being dressed in uniform, Leonardo could hardly recognize himself. His identity had corroded so much, had shifted so quickly, that seeing himself with bedhead and in pajamas on a lazy Sunday morning almost made him feel inferior. Like he was going backwards. Regressing.
Leo reflected on that.
Wrapping up morning routines, he exited his room, officially welcoming the day and stepping into the living room.
Donnie was out of his bedroom—that was the first thing Leo took note of. He sat at the kitchen island, brown hair more kept than his own.
"Look, Sleeping Beauty's up."
Leo turned, Raph lounging on the couch with Klunk curled up on his lap.
Leo blinked. "What—What time is it?"
"Precisely one o'clock," Donnie answered, sliding his laptop into his bag.
"One?!" he ran fingers through his hair, "Why didn't you guys wake me up sooner?"
Donnie shrugged. "Mikey suggested it. He assumed you were out real late last night with your case since you weren't back by the time we all went to bed. He thinks you need more rest, which he's right, you know."
Leo scrunched his eyebrows, ambling over and sitting beside Donnie at the island. "Right, right."
Placing his elbows on the table, his younger brother's amber eyes glistened.
"So, how was your case? You know, the one from the other day?"
There was a layer of innocence in Donnie's words. Innocence that made him sound younger and less scarred than he had been. He sounded almost hopeful. He sounded like his little brother.
His stomach twisted. "It was a success. Usagi and I arrested them, they're behind bars now," he lied straight through his teeth.
But Donnie smiled. "That's great. It's good to know that some justice is being served. I'm proud of you."
Happiness swelled in Leo's tattered heart, a portion of the weight on it being lifted. Reassurance that he was managing ok, even if the foundation was on a lie.
"Thanks. You seem to be in a brighter mood today. What's up?"
"Oh, well," Donnie swerved on his stool, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, "I got offered this job down at this scientific research center called Techno Cosmic Research Industries. It's pretty much an internship, but it's something. I'm checking it out later today before
I agree to it."
Leo straightened. Donnie hadn't even mentioned applying for anything, let alone being accepted.
He must've been out of the loop—more than he would like to admit. Despite that, he was very impressed with his younger brother's success. "I didn't know that. Congratulations, Donnie."
Packing his bag, it was conclusive that Donnie was preparing to embark on that adventure.
If he didn't know about Donnie and his new employment, Leo questioned what else was happening right under his nose. Swiveling forward in his stool chair, Leo called out, "Raph, what about you? What's going on in your life lately?"
Sound from the T.V. paused, a distressed 'meow' from Klunk after that. The second oldest craned his neck to see him from where he was on the couch.
"Well, I know you're not a huge fan of the band," Raph blew the hair that covered his eye, "But, you should know, that our new lead vocalist, Mona, really made the band complete. She's really pretty—pretty good singer."
Raph briskly turned away, facing the television and lifting the remote.
"We're actually having an extra practice today. Who knows, maybe you'll actually want to listen sometime. We'll get noticed soon, just watch."
A smirk pulled on Leo. "We'll just have to see. But I'm pretty sure you'll have to name your band before it can land on the charts."
"Yeah, yeah, we're working on it," Raph waved it off as he played his show.
Even now at age twenty-one, there was no other joy quite like harping on your brother.
So, Donatello and Raphael were doing well. It was relieving to know that their lives were steadier than his own. They weren't stressing about the safety of their home.
However, Mikey had been.
As if on cue, the fourteen-year-old emerged from his bedroom, appearing to be lost in thought. Walking past, he didn't acknowledge any of the others in the room, his focus somewhere else. Though distraction was a weakness of Mikey's, this was definitely different. It was definitely purposeful, and he was definitely immersed into his own world and calculations.
"Hey Mikey, what's up?" Leo said casually, trying to break him away from his trance.
It went ignored, Mikey scooping his skateboard off of the floor.
"Mikey?"
"Hm? What about me?" he said, not bothering to even look at him as subconsciously spun the wheel of his board.
Leo shifted in his seat. "Uh, well, how are you? How have you been? I actually haven't been seeing you around much lately."
"Oh, I'm good. I've just been hanging out with the squad a lot."
The way Mikey had just tossed that comment over his shoulder made Leo suspicious. Mikey was starting to withdraw from him, become more aloof and isolated. More like a teenager.
It was then that Leo made the correlation that Mikey had not brought up Peter Brood in a while. Was he still upset about it? Was he getting over it? Had something else happened?
"Mikey—"
Low rumbling from on top of the marble counter broke his dialogue. Stone blue stared at Mikey for a suspended amount of time until the vibrations grew repetitious.
Leo redirected himself to spot the sound, confirming that it was his cellphone charging near the coffee maker.
He would have to talk to his youngest brother after. Walking over, he cleared his throat, accepted the call, and placed the phone to his ear.
"Hello?"
"Leonardo, it's me, Jack Kurtzman." The detective sounded chipper and eager. Leo scrunched his nose. He wasn't expecting a call from him.
"Oh, hey Mr. Kurtzman, what's up—"
The man cut through his sentence with sharp excitement.
"I promised I'd tell you if we got anything new about your father's case, and after months of digging, we finally found a possible lead."
"What?!"
His body became rigid. Mind and all thoughts came to a screeching halt.
Leonardo then remembered the others in the room, and whipped his head up to see all three brothers giving him wide and curious eyes. Leo must've looked the same way.
Lifting a finger up to them, he signaled for the three of them to hold on, the young man deciding to take his call in the hallway for privacy. Without haste, Leo rushed out into the hall and closed the door behind him.
Firming his grasp on the phone, he pressed it as close to his face as he could as the air conditioning and anticipation made him shudder.
"A lead?!" Leo said in a hushed, but urgent voice.
"Possibly," Kurtzman replied, "The Hamato Clan is practically extinct, with the exception of you boys, and one other member."
The hallway was empty, Leo transfixed on nothing in particular as he took some time to take in what his friend was informing him with.
"Another clan member?"the words felt foreign on his tongue. Like the sentence was assembled mechanically and couldn't possibly have any real, authentic meaning.
"Yes, she is a cousin of Yoshi's. Her name is Hana Hamato."
His chest rose and fell.
A cousin? So that would make her what, our first cousin once removed?
Leo shook his head, trying to wrap it around this concept.
Detective Kurtzman continued, "She lives her life on the outskirts of Tokyo, cut off from society, which is why it took a long time to track her. We hope to ask her if there was anyone who had something against Yoshi or the Hamato clan in general. She's a hermit and is hard to communicate with, but my partner and I are heading out to Tokyo early tomorrow morning."
Leo grinned, picking up a pace in the hallway.
"Really? That's—that's great news Mr. Kurtzman! Even more than great, this is awesome!" Leo said unprofessionally, "Do you really think Hana is a strong lead?"
The phone crackled. "That, we're not sure. All we can do is hope for the best. But who knows. We may as well be on our way to bringing your father justice."
His stomach flip-flopped as he allowed the information to settle while he digested it all.
Justice. Resolution. Peace.
Throwing his head back, he said into the phone, "Thank you, thank you so much Mr. Kurtzman."
"No problem, kid. I have some packing to do. Take care, Leo."
"Bye, Jack."
Pressing his thumb on the screen, he ended the call.
A long breath escaped from his lungs and out his throat, deflating him, adrenaline beginning to dwindle as he leaned his back against the wall. Floorboards croaked.
A lead. After all this time, they finally had a lead. Shaking, his feeble hand covered his pumping heart.
We'll bring you justice soon, Papa.
XXX
Glittering white varnished the ghoulish hallway, every corner a glistening, yet unearthly extraction of color. Natural light failed to find an entrance to slip through—there were no windows, and the front doors were tinted.
Manmade light oscillated its brightness just above him. Slight static sizzled and crackled. Changing the bulb might possibly be a task for him.
The sound of pressing shoes resounded off the empty walls, the downcast hall stretching for an eternity.
This building reminded Donatello of George Orwell's 1984—the description of the Ministry of Truth striking a similar resemblance to the entrance of Techno Cosmic Research Industries.
Recognizable habits came creeping back to him as he gave into the temptation to dabble in overthinking.
Minitrue was infamous for cremating truth into ash, and for conceiving lies to spoon-feed the public. Looking back at the glass doors, Donnie wondered if wanting this job was him lying to himself. If TCRI, too, was a building that harbored his deceptions and denial.
He faced forward and continued to walk.
At the end of the dim hall lied two corridors, leading to what Donnie could predict was the main lobby.
Pale, bare hands carefully placed themselves on the doors. Not a single speck of dust was on the surface, a sign that this place was well-kept, and that people were on top of everything.
Drumming fingers matched his drumming heartbeat. Without any time to refrain, Donatello thrusted open the corridors.
The four walls expanded for the lobby, constructing a wide capacity. White still cloaked the interior, but had splashes of color. From desks and chairs, to indoor plants glimmering from the sunlight filtering from windows, to other signs of human life.
Standing amiss of it all, Donnie saw bodies tear past him like rushing currents he wasn't trapped in, him being suspended in animation. Separate, and like he didn't know how to jump in and find the flow.
His eyes sailed the lobby, the anxious realization that he had no idea what Dr. Rockwell would look like making him gulp.
Did Rockwell know what he looked like? How did he even know him? Second thoughts came in an instant. He licked his lips.
"Pardon me."
Buttery words slid off of another's tongue, the way the voice melted making Donnie flinch before whipping around by natural instinct.
Embellished in a charcoal trench coat and a slim tie, a man towered over him, his glasses
gleaming from the industrial lights.
"Are you lost?"
Donnie nodded, slow and punctiliously. "Y-Yeah, I'm supposed to meet—"
"You know," he interrupted, bending down almost as if to demean him, "I don't recall any schools scheduled to visit, and I'm sure a child like yourself has no permission to be in our facility."
There was something unsettling about the man. Maybe it was the way his words twisted and curled so effortlessly, or maybe it was the harsh lines on his pale face. Either way, Donnie found himself at a temporary loss for words. He tugged at the collar of his shirt.
"Donatello!"
Another voice, though much less intimidating. Tearing away from the man in black, he searched for the one calling out his name.
Descending down a staircase, a waving hand caught Donnie's attention as a sinewy man widened his eyes with enthusiasm. Donatello sent a small wave in return, turning back around to the person he was speaking to before. Only to find, that the man adorned in black had vanished.
Donnie blinked.
"It's a privilege to finally meet you in the flesh," the other man said, a bit out of breath from his downward journey, "I'm Dr. Rockwell."
Swallowing hard, Donatello let go of the first man he had conversed with and faced Dr. Rockwell.
With the scientist's hand extended, Donnie clasped his own onto it, shaking it with the utmost politeness.
"Thank you, the honor is mine, really," the teenager said to him, tacking a courteous smile onto his face.
Dr. Rockwell was a gauntly man, arms covered in thick, dark hair, ironic given his combover.
Passion was a standout quality for Dr. Rockwell—he could tell by the grip he had on the handshake. Passionate and energetic, no reason to feel that there was an underlying motive. Except for the one obvious mystery.
Releasing his grip, he cleared his throat, "How do you know me, exactly?"
Dr. Rockwell retracted his arm, rubbing the back of his neck as a sign of possible embarrassment.
"Right, my apologies. You see, I visited your campus at Roosevelt High as a representative for Techno Cosmic Research Industries. The principal brought you up in conversation, told me tales of your accomplishments. I was surprised you didn't show up to my booth that career fair. No matter, I thought you would be an excellent candidate to work alongside me."
Donnie remembered that career fair, and he remembered how he hadn't gone. He was a bit all over the place recently, and even more isolated. But no matter, he smiled more.
"That's really thoughtful of you Dr. Rockwell, thank you."
There was a glint in Dr. Rockwell's eye.
"Now, would you like a tour of TCRI?"
Donnie nodded at the offer. "Sure, that would be informative."
So, the tour begun. Dr. Rockwell had shown Donatello around the grand lobby, explained to him where he would clock in and out. He was then ushered into an elevator to lift him the first couple of floors. The tour was educational, and it wasn't until after the scientist presented the experimental investigation of cosmic microwave backgrounds and imaging surveys for the determination of constraints on the nature of dark energy that Donnie began to become uneasy.
Dr. Rockwell lead him to the elevator once more, doors touching as they were ascended.
"Have you made your decision yet?" Dr. Rockwell asked as soon as the doors closed.
Elevator music played in the background. He tugged at his collar.
"Honestly, I'm not exactly confident in my knowledge and skills regarding techno cosmic research. It's not exactly my field of study," he confessed.
Doors slid open, exposing another long hallway.
Dr. Rockwell lifted a finger. "Worry not. While TCRI was originally designed as a place of cosmic study, once it was bought by its new owners, SakIndustries, they branched out to a variety of different scientific branches. Like myself—I'm a neuroscientist."
Neuroscience? His confidence and interest dramatically increased now that that was informed.
Donnie grinned, but this time, genuinely rather than to be polite. "Really? Thank god."
A wispy laugh came from the scientist as he leads him down another hall.
Squeaking wheels could be heard from the other end of it, Donnie's inborn curiosity making him perk up and detect what it was.
And it was Irma Langinstein, pushing along a cart of—you guessed it—clean Erlenmeyer flasks.
She spotted Donatello, causing her to wave at him and smile unapologetically. With a short motion of his hand, Donnie kept walking with Dr. Rockwell, not wishing to strike up conversation and waste time.
After a few more paces, the man stopped at white door.
"And this, is my lab," he said to him, pressing a thumb onto the lock-pad. "Behind this door is where I work, and where you'd help."
The lock-pad beeped, signaling that it had recognized Tyler Rockwell. "That is, if you choose to accept."
His door clicked, becoming unlocked.
"So, what'll it be Donatello?"
This is what he was meant to do. Donatello Hamato was the genius. That was who he was. And who he was only.
With newfound confidence, Donnie stood firm.
"Dr. Rockwell, I accept your offer."
And the door opened.
XXX
Thumbs tapped on green and red buttons as if someone else were piloting his body. Although his eyes were physically seeing the graphics of the video game, they were really searching in his mind for images of something else. Well, someone else.
It was disgusting. Horribly putrid that this sick cliché had possessed him so quickly, as if his will was so easily manipulatable. Buttons on the video game controller were pressed even harder.
The curvature of her body, the way her voice had a way to penetrate his icy heart and make him melt in a matter of seconds. The way she looked at him.
It was gruesome, this sudden obsession. How the idea of her clutched so tightly onto his brain and wouldn't detach. And he hated it. But it was also kind of nice.
"The winner is, Marth", the TV announced, dark eyebrows arching slightly in reaction.
"You're not even trying, dude. I've beaten you twelve times in a row! I know I'm good, but I've never been this good," Raph heard Casey say.
Mind temporarily free of its grip, Raph took in his setting. Him and Casey were up in the loft of the auto-shop, the two sitting in beanbags, waiting for the one that had infiltrated his once-believed impregnable heart.
Invisible clouds of breath were pushed through his nostrils, Raph flopping over on the beanbag to look at his friend. Casey's long, dark hair was in tangled waves as the boy waited for Raph's explanation.
He blew the hair from his eye. "Casey," the teen hesitated for a moment, still unsure if he should voice his thoughts, but in the end said them anyway, "Do you think like, two band mates can date?"
Regret. Instantly, as soon as he saw that shit eating grin on his friend's face. Automatically leaning back, Casey's eyes bulged as his thin lips curled.
"What?!" he laughed.
Raph felt his cheeks burn scarlet. "Well, I mean I could ask her out, but should I?"
Casey sunk deeper into his beanbag, letting out a deep breath. "You really got a crush on Mona? You guys hardly know each other."
"So, what?" Raph snapped, his eyebrows slanting as he disregarded his impulsiveness.
"What if she's one of those totally psycho girls?" Casey rambled, "Or what if she hates comics and pizza? Or worse, what if she picks her nose, dude?"
Pulling himself out of the beanbag, Raphael rolled his eyes, heading towards the stairs.
"She's not you. Besides, Mona is amazing, she wouldn't be like that."
Struggling to get out of his own beanbag, Casey called out, "Ok, but what if she has a boyfriend—dude, what if she's gay? What if she's a lesbian?"
Raph stopped midway going down the stairs to give Casey a shrug. "Well, guess I'll have to find out."
"Find out what?"
And there was that angelic voice that made Raph act like a total idiot. He looked up to see Mona, his heart thumping in his chest rampantly.
Clearing his throat, he answered, "Oh, hey Mona! We were just talking about finding out when you'd be here."
No one else could ever make Raph smile that big. He didn't even remember the last time he smiled like that, so natural and raw. Must've been sometime before his father died.
"Sorry, my siblings sometimes make it difficult for me to get out the door." Leather slid off her shoulders, revealing a Metallica shirt and bare skin.
"Completely understandable," Raph told her, thinking of his own brothers at home.
The last step squeaked, Raph ambling over to his midnight-colored guitar from the peeling folding chair.
"Hello, Casey," he heard Mona greet as he strapped on the guitar. The sound of Casey trotting down the stairs followed after that.
"Hey, Mona. Let's get this show on the road."
He cut straight to the chase, coursing his way to his drum set and sitting on the throne with drumsticks in hand.
Much to Mr. Jones's annoyance, the crew was forgetful when it came to cleaning up their band equipment. Tangled cords, instruments, and stands of all kinds were still in the garage from last practice.
Strapping the guitar around his chest, Raph subtlety watched as Mona bent down and raised the microphone stand with finesse.
Lifting it up to her height, she spoke up, "Which song are we going to practice?"
Casey swiveled on his throne. "Well, we only have like, two songs so it doesn't matter."
We really should write more songs.
Raph plugged his guitar into the amp. "Let's just do..."
Human instincts are stronger and activate more often than some people realize. Silence had broken in, hovering above them as goosebumps pricked his skin.
It didn't take much for hearts to race these days. He had to turn around and uncover whose foreign eyes he felt searing into him, making him vulnerable.
Turning away from the amplifier, he revealed to himself the stranger who was staring at him and his friends.
She stood at the entrance of the garage, with skin of the moon, hair like the night, and light eyes that shone like stars. Energy disseminated off of her, a gothic wave cascading over everyone.
Decorated with dramatic eyeshadow and harsh contour, she clothed herself in all black, her hands causally in the pockets of her jeans.
Casey, he had always been a straight forward and confrontational kind of guy. "Yo, who the hell are you?"
The comment spoke for the three of them, all waiting for the girl to explain.
She removed her hands from her pockets.
"Forgive me for trespassing," she spoke with a thick Japanese accent, "My name is Shinigami. I'm a fellow student from Roosevelt High School."
Raph blinkedwide eyes.
Shinigami? This is Mikey's crush? She didn't seem to be his...type.
"You're Shinigami?" Raph said aloud, still shaking off those somewhat tangent thoughts.
Cymbals crashed, Raph turning to see Casey scrambling to stand up. Casey then pointed a drumstick directly at Shinigami.
"Wait, don't you live with Karai Oroku? The daughter of a millionaire?!"
Raph's eyes widened as he looked at the girl with a new perspective.
Karai Oroku.
It had been years since he heard that name hit his ears.
Man, both Shinigami and Karai, huh? He expelled hot air through his nose.
"That would be me," Shinigami answered.
Raph tilted his head. "Well, what are you doing here?"
Black heeled boots clicked against the cement as she entered. "I just decided to drop by and hear
your music. As you know, Halloween is around the corner. I'm throwing a Halloween party at my place. I'm looking for local entertainment, and your band sparked my interest."
"But aren't you like, rich? Can't you get a famous band to play—"
"Sure," Raph cut Casey off, "We'll play for you."
"Excellent." Shinigami grinned, folding her arms and leaning against the wall.
Windows of opportunity were being cracked open, Raphael grateful that the breezes of change
were able to sweep him and Casey away. Purple Dragons wouldn't be their priority if they managed to seize this chance to perform and really initiate their ambition.
Raph looked over at his band mates Casey and Mona, and it was pretty clear that the three of them knew which song out of their two to play.
As soon as everything was plugged in, Casey banged his drumsticks together, and the two of them began to play their instruments.
The thing about music is that it never wears thin. It's always beating, always alive no matter how many times. Every time is a brand-new experience, even if the music was crafted by your own hands and voice. Dipping into concavities, discovering deeper meanings that revealed himself and the inner workings of his brain. Unraveling these mysteries were what kept the embers of his anger at ease.
Patterned finger movements plucked the strings of his guitar, Raph once again captivated by Mona's hypnotizing melodies. Though by now, he was fortunately able to keep himself from messing up and in control.
Drumming synchronized with Raphael's heartbeat, his breath matching Mona's.
Raph glanced at Casey. Confidence and innocent happiness sparked from him, and Raph couldn't help but be ignited by it. Seeing Casey happy, seeing him with that cloak of anger removed, it confirmed that Raph was doing the right thing. Finally, for once, the right thing.
The peak of the song erupted, the ending now lulling to its stop. He clamped a hand on the neck of the guitar, choking it to silence.
Raph had almost forgotten that they had a listener. Hair fell into his eye as he looked up to check on Shinigami.
"So," Raph straightened, holding onto his nervous breath, "What do you think?"
Playfulness was a quality that grew evident from the goth's smirk. "Not too bad. Would you guys be interested in playing at my party?"
Raph smiled. Before he could answer, Casey shouted, "Band meeting!"
Groaning, Raph ripped the guitar off of him, set it down, and huddled over with Casey and Mona. He was going to snap at Casey, but Mona spoke up first.
"Well, I personally think it's a wonderful opportunity. Raphael?"
Hearing her say his name made his heart leap. Once gaining his bearings, the teen nodded rapidly. "Absolutely, I was thinking the same thing."
Casey rolled his eyes at him. Opening his mouth, the sound of high heels prevented Casey's thoughts from ever coming out.
Shinigami appeared and stood over their huddled group. "I'd also obviously be paying you guys," she said with persuasion.
"Goongala!"
The three unhuddled, an unspoken, unanimous decision all tying them together.
Raph went over to Shinigami, extending his arm and inviting her to lock in a handshake.
"Alright Shinigami, it's a deal."
XXX
"By the way, thanks again for covering for me 'Net. If Leo ever found out, I'd be so dead. He made it pretty clear that he didn't want me to do any ninja stuff."
Shouldering his cellphone to his ear, Mikey packed his equipment into his black duffel bag as he sat on his bed of unraveled sheets. Leo wasn't back from the store yet, so now was the only time to properly thank her. October had just been reborn, a feathery drizzle hitting against his bedroom window during a chilly afternoon. Bradford's class would assemble soon, but he wanted to squeeze in a call to Renet. He hadn't talked to her in a while. It had been too long.
"Right...no problem," she eventually replied.
A smile with great elasticity stretched from cheek to cheek as Mikey commemorated his times at Bradford's Dojo.
"Bradford is such a cool guy. I'm still totally psyched that he let me join—more than just join. He really accepted me. I hope it isn't just out of pity, but even if it is, I'll take it. He's been very..." Mikey slowed to a halt before making the permanent decision to let the word escape, "...fatherly to me. He really cares, y'know?"
Knee pads were shoved into the bag. His bed creaked.
"Oh, and Timothy," Mikey exchanged his tone for a lighter one, "He still has a long way to go to catch up to me, but he's so ready to join me and become vigilantes. We've been trying to plan out our costumes." Mikey told his friend in hopes that she would be excited for him. Proud, maybe.
"Speaking of costumes," Renet interjected on the other line, "Jason and Napoleon and I have been getting our Halloween costumes all together. We're gonna be the coolest group around, all dressed up as characters from Super Robo Mecha Force Five. I was thinking we could head up to the rich neighborhoods as soon as sunset, since you know the curfew, my dad won't let me out past it—"
"Oh, dude, I have to tell you something!" Mikey sat upright, holding his phone to steady it,
"Shinigami is throwing this lit Halloween bash at her place! Raph and Casey are performing, and literally every cool kids gonna be there. I thought we could all go!"
There was a heavy pause. An obvious shift in mood, though he didn't understand why.
"But we always go trick-or-treating...And a senior party? My parents would never let me go." Her voice fluctuated like ocean waves, Mikey sensing her discomfort through the static. He twirled his hair.
"C'mon Renet," he began to persuade, "Donnie could go, so that means it would totally be safe. Plus, it's Shinigami! She's loaded! It could be the greatest night of our lives!"
Ebullience radiated from the boy, not that she could see. But he was entirely convinced with what he said. Mikey simply yearned for a special night out. Especially if that night had at least a sliver of a chance to be spent with Shinigami.
A low moan rolled on the other line, a sound of defeat.
"Ok, I'll try my best to convince my parents," Renet answered flatly.
There was a twinge of guilt, but he knew that she would have an awesome time if she and the others went. Usually, his best friend was willing to take these risks—that was her character. She always trusted him. She just needed a gentle push.
"Alright! Thanks, Renet, you're the best! You won't regret it! I'll talk to you later, I gotta get to class."
She sighed. "Alright...just keep me updated, ok?"
He couldn't figure out why she seemed so wistful, but Mikey did his best to put her at ease before he hung up.
"You got it dude."
Sliding his beanie over his head and his bag over his shoulder, Mikey ran off to continue to chase his aspirations.
Being in the beginner's class had its benefits, as well as its drawbacks. A benefit was that he was excelling with great speed, immediately becoming one of Bradford's star pupils. And a drawback was that on days like this one, he found himself bored and being held back. His intentions were never to show off or to be arrogant, but there were times that he needed to control his patience and starve his ego.
Mikey leaned against the dojo wall, his new friend Timothy slurping from the indoor drinking fountain. It was during breaks that the two would discuss their vigilante agenda.
"So, wearing all black is already the Nightwatcher's thing, so we should stay away from that.
What do you think?" Mikey's eyes lazily rolled over to Timothy.
After what seemed like forever, the teenager let go of the button, swallowing one last gulp of water before wiping his lips.
"What about green?" he suggested. Timothy carried an innocent essence, a childlike trait that he found in himself. It was that trait that Mikey assumed was what bonded them together.
Stroking his imaginary beard, Mikey hummed in thought.
"Timothy? May I speak to you in private please? In my office?"
Both Mikey and Timothy straightened up at the sound of their Sensei, who stood across the dojo and motioned to the door behind the counter. Mikey looked up at Timothy, who looked down at Mikey before returning his attention to Bradford.
"Oh, uh, yeah, sure."
Timothy tramped over to Sensei Bradford with weighty footsteps, the man escorting him behind the wooden door. The slam made Mikey jump.
Why did Timothy being taken to the back make him feel like he was sent to the Principal Campbell's office?
Did he do something wrong?
Finding no purpose to stay over by the wall, Mikey floated back to his blue mat, crossing his legs.
Considering the last time he tried to eavesdrop Bradford in his office, Mikey knew he wouldn't be able to hear the conversation, but concerns twisted in his gut. Twiddling his thumbs, he failed to tear his eyes away from the mysterious door.
Is he in trouble?
Minutes inched by, each second feeling heavier and heavier. The weight pushed the concerns in the pit of his stomach up to his chest as nervousness lightly choked his lungs. Reality was almost beginning to alter. And at this point, he couldn't tell if it was his recent development in anxiety, or if his seventh sense was starting to go off.
Is being alone with him the trouble? —
As soon as the doorknob turned, Mikey perked up, awaiting to see his friend's expression once he walked out. And he did see the expression. He saw Timothy's wide eyes, he saw fresh sweat beads on his forehead, and he saw frown lines on his ashen face. Mikey swallowed as Timothy came and sat down on the mat right by his side.
"What was that about? You ok, dude?" Mikey asked, trying his best to not sound like he was completely overreacting.
"Y-yeah..." Timothy stuttered, stare locked at his feet, "He was just...badgering me about my payment. I'll have to talk to my mom about it."
The teen did appear rather shaken, and Mikey would've pressed further if he hadn't been so. He didn't want to add any more stress. Whatever Bradford said to him was probably enough.
Mikey let out a chortle to brighten his mood. "Man, if my brothers found out I spent my life savings for this class, I'm positive they'd totally lose it."
Timothy was broken from his spell, the little bit of color he lost now coming back as looked over at him. "It must be nice to have brothers, I'm an only child."
"Yeah, they're pretty great," Mikey stretched his legs, smiling at the thought of his family.
"Donnie is a genius—he's so smart and he likes to invent cool stuff. Like a few science fairs ago, he made an actual robot! He even let me name it, since he knows I'm great at naming things. Its name was Metalhead. And then there's Raph—he's the coolest guy I know. He's in a rock band with our friend Casey, and this new girl named Mona. Raph is all strong and tough, but deep down he's such a softie. And Leo—"
A spontaneous blow to the gut. Any trace of a smile vanished in an instant, his heart sinking to the very bottom of his shoes. Biting his lip, he turned away.
"Leo is a cop. Leo's really an amazing guy, but..." the boy hugged his knees, bringing them close to his chest, "Ever since my dad died, he's changed. It really got to him. It's made us grow apart. I know he works really hard, and that he's always trying his best, especially with his job, but I feel like him and the entire department don't really care about the missing kids and their families."
That he's starting to not care about me.
The two sat in silence for a moment, the other conversations in the room filling in the vacant space.
"Well you do," Mikey felt a warm hand on his shoulder, "I guess that's what you are—you're like the mushy heart of your family. We'll make a difference, Mikey."
Slowly uncurling himself, Mikey looked over at his kindhearted friend full of gratitude. Mikey smiled widely.
"You know Timothy, I'm so glad we're best friends."
"Me too Mike...me too."
XXX
Not much had happened that day.
The world didn't stop. It was still performing its everlasting motion, life still carving out its masterpiece. The sun had come up, people still had their beating hearts, and there was still work to be done. The world didn't stop, but his own had.
Leonardo had been in one spot that day, apart from the busyness. His feet didn't ache from tirelessly running in useless circles, his head didn't surge with overwhelming stress, and his spirit didn't drag behind him. No fresh wounds were opened today, no ripped stitches through the gentle fabric of his tore up life. Sure, the Earth continued to rotate and responsibilities didn't disappear. But that eluding breath he had been racing to grab was finally stored in his chest, and he was able to breathe. To rest like Mikey wanted.
His lungs filled and deflated.
Night had inevitably fallen, and Leo found himself at Raphael's bedroom door, already twisting the doorknob. He felt the need to check in on the family he was trying too hard to protect.
"I'm surprised you're actually here."
Raph was lying in bed, calm and somber with his pet turtle, Spike, on his stomach. His brother lifted his neck to see him in the doorway.
"It's ten-thirty. There's a curfew," was all he said. Petting the shell, Leo knew that Raph had a soft spot for animals.
"That's why I'm surprised you're here," Leo folded his arms. "You were very adamant about having an early curfew."
He didn't say anything that time.
Raphael didn't have much in his room anymore. All he really had was his bed, his guitar, and Spike.
It wasn't always like that. It used to have band posters and Monster cans and magazines and his ninjutsu gear. But Raph had become the type of person to not let sentimentality wage war inside him.
Leo leaned against the doorframe. When was the last time he had been in Raph's bedroom? When was the last time the two hung out? The two of them used to be so close.
He stared at his quiet brother.
"What changed your mind?"
Moving Spike off of him, Raph sat upright.
"I don't know," he said with unusual softness, "I guess I'm not the same rebellious kid that you remember me as. You're not the only person who changed after what happened to dad."
Leo frowned.
"I know."
The oldest lingered, not wanting to leave just yet, despite the lack of verbal communication. But he needed to see the others, and he couldn't stay there forever.
Growing stiff, Leonardo removed himself from the frame. "I have to check on the younger ones," he told Raph.
No response.
Leo turned away.
"Wait."
He froze.
"Are you guys really taking care of everything? The police, I mean. Are they stopping the Purple Dragons? Are they...are they figuring out what happened with dad?"
Leo deflated once more.
"...Don't worry, otōto. Everything's alright, I promise. Don't worry, otōto."
His hand slid down the frame. And he didn't turn back.
Down the hall, Donatello's bedroom door was open. Wide open, with the warm and inviting glow of a desk lamp.
Leo wandered over, scoping the room. Donnie was hunched over, back curved as he dove nose-first into whatever assignment he was working on. The teen tended to give his one-hundred percent effort, completely absorbed and soaked in everything.
Wavy brunette hair just fell above his reading glasses, his tongue sticking out. That was a habit of his when he was focused.
Using a knuckle, Leo tapped on the door to signal his presence.
"Hey Donnie, just wanted to drop by and remind you to actually sleep for once. You let me sleep in today, the only right thing to do would be to make sure you sleep also."
Donnie straightened his spine, rubbing his face and not minding the glasses. "Yeah, yeah, I will. I'm just wrapping this up. If I don't finish, surely April and Irma would be my demise."
There was a teasing smirk on his face. More of an upbeat attitude was beginning to shine through the gray that had come over him.
"Before I leave you alone, how was TCRI? Did you accept the offer?"
The smirk grew into a full-blown smile. "It was awesome! They have practically everything there! I would tell you, but I'm sure a list of the complex equipment would go over your head. Dr. Rockwell showed me around his laboratory, and then the rest of TCRI after that. I really think things are turning around for me."
There was always something about Donatello's smiles that were so contagious. His excitement spread like a virus—though nobody minded.
"I'm happy for you Donnie. Just make sure you get some—"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll sleep, I got it."
Leo playfully rolled his eyes, leaving Donatello with his door agape and welcoming.
Now Mikey's room was pitch black. Which was unlike him—not even his nightlight was lit. It was only open ajar, Leo opening it smoothly to avoid loud creaking.
And there the youngest was, sprawled out on his bed with his limbs in all directions. Fully clothed and fully asleep, he could hear just a light snore. It was as if Mikey had just collapsed and knocked out as soon as head it the sheets.
Leo chuckled.
Mikey's room was a wreck, clothes and school items were diffused and covered every barren space. Steering through this mess, Leonardo eventually made his way to the boy's bed.
There was something reassuring in watching loved ones sleep. Tranquility presented itself in its finest form, and Mikey appeared to be completely at ease.
Bending down, Leonardo pushed the blonde hairs out of his eyes and kissed his baby brother's forehead.
The fact that Mikey seemed to have not been prepared for sleep was a bit concerning, however.
Leo needed to check if Mikey had taken his medication.
As he was leaving, he casted one last look. Peeking out from under the bed was the handle to Mikey's duffel bag.
He'd really have to lecture Mikey about cleaning his room.
Mikey was usually on top of his medication—he'd been taking it for years. But all it takes is skipping on dosage, and he was aware that Mikey's memory wasn't always perfect. Maybe he should trust in his brother more, but he would never want to take the risk.
Going into the front bathroom, the medicine cabinet creaked. A tray of pills was neatly organized inside. The S for Sunday was empty. He hadn't forgotten.
Wrapping up his nightly routine, the quiet was appealing to the young man. As all three brothers were asleep, the oldest sat at the table while a cup of jasmine tea warmed his cold palms.
Crickets and sirens rung outside, a battle between city and nature. Of chaos and peace.
Purple Dragons, thieves, sensei, rock bands, bills, Harmony, cat food, job offers, Peter Brood.
He always tried to separate home and work like water and oil, but at this point he didn't know where his uniform ended and his skin began. Just last summer, everything was working out just fine. Not flawlessly, but still functional. But autumn is known as the season of change, and the temperature did drop. Now all of these elements swirled and raged in a brewing storm, forcing the family to take shelter and preventing them from moving on.
But right now, in this calm, Leo could only hope that this night was the eye of the storm.
Raphael was suddenly evolving into a mature young adult. Anger once blinded the teen, but he was now becoming the most levelheaded out of this situation. He was channeling his anger in a healthy way, while he also making sure his friend was healthy as well.
Donatello hadn't been this expressive in months, blossoming and opening up like a rose and being a part of the family again. And little Michelangelo—although he has been having some bumps, Leo believed the friction was wearing him out, and that he was learning what it means to have fate.
Raph wasn't angry, Donnie had gotten a job, and Mikey wasn't bringing up Pete.
Steam curled and hit his nostrils as Leonardo sipped his jasmine tea.
And on top of all of that, Kurtzman had found a possible lead. Tomorrow morning, he would be leaving for Tokyo.
Perhaps, maybe they weren't in the eye of the storm, but instead that the storm was coming to an end—
Ringing ceased all thoughts. The sound wasn't loud, but in the quiet, it was deafening. It was Leo's cellphone.
He set the tea down. Pulling it out of his pocket, he looked down.
Usagi.
Something about this didn't feel right. Something about the way Usagi's name lit up, the way the ringtone seemed to blare like an alarm.
It was awfully late at night for an innocent conversation.
Red flags.
He swallowed and answered the call.
"Hello...?"
A heavy breath.
"Leonardo..."
Husky. Choppy. Breathy.
He knew that tone. That tone of hesitation, that tone that swayed like a boat riding tremendous waves. His cold hands began to shake.
"Usagi? Usagi what's wrong?"
Chapped lips started to tremble.
"Leonardo, I'm afraid I have catastrophic news..." his friend's voice sounded like breaking glass.
He got to his feet, running nervous fingers through his hair.
"Usagi what happened? Are you ok?"
The kitchen clock ticked. Ragged breathing.
The once comforting quiet quickly became an enemy. Seconds of soundlessness drove Leo to send a crashing fist on marble.
"Tell me what's wrong, dammit!"
Chest rising and falling, his heart lodged itself in his throat, every second of silence suffocating him more and more.
A sigh from the other line. Leo grabbed onto the counter as his world tilted.
"It's about Detective Kurtzman."
No. Please, no.
"Leonardo...Jack Kurtzman is dead."
XXX
Preview for Chapter 6: Story Books !
"I'm sorry to bring it up like this, but you also mentioned your dad being…what about your mom?"
"Wait…are you dying?"
"Death comes for all of us, but something comes much worse for you. For when you die, it will be without honor."
Coming out October 20th !
XXX
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