Author's note: For those who have read my other story, "My Sons, My Everything," you may notice that some of its elements are contradicted by this story. I may go back and edit "My Sons" at some point to make it consistent with this. :)

Part II: Sunset

Once again, Splinter's remorse was of little consequence.

Shredder broke free of his momentarily paralysis just in time to deflect the lethal strike. "Do you think I stopped with your parents?" His blades slashed across Splinter's vulnerable forearms once more.

Clutching at the new wound, Splinter dodged a second strike and rolled away. In an instant, he was on his feet, having regained something of a defensible position, but Shredder was up again just as quickly. As Shredder charged him, Splinter ducked in closely enough to deflect Shredder's blows by striking at his wrists, thwarting the blades from their intended target.

With a growl, Shredder retracted the dual blades back into the mechanisms he wore on his wrists; in close quarters, the blades only served to lengthen his arms, inhibiting his ability to defend himself against Splinter's rapid strikes.

But this was exactly what Splinter had wanted. With the blades out of the way, Splinter had a better angle of attack. He landed several hits, sending the Shredder staggering backwards.

Shredder regained his balance and countered with a spinning back kick. "Do you think that your students were able to protect themselves from me?"

Splinter grabbed Shredder's extended leg and flipped him onto the floor. "What are you saying?" He was too dizzied by fear for his family to follow up with a new attack.

Shredder rose from the floor. "Every last one of them is drenched in their own blood." Instead of attacking, he kept his distance.

Splinter circled him. "No. Not even you, Saki."

"Yes, Yoshi" – he said the name mockingly – "even me. Your family means nothing to me. The Hamato name is a scourge on Japan – I am wiping it out."

"Not all of my students are Hamatos!"

"Not all of their families were Hamatos either, but I killed them all. And all because of you. I will make you suffer in every conceivable way, take away everything you love, destroy your filthy progeny – I will not rest until I have expunged the last drop of Hamato blood from the face of the earth. And then, Splinter, I will take what is rightfully mine."

"You fool! Do you think Tang Shen will ever love you after what you have done?"

"She will have no choice. If you are fortunate, I will let you live long enough to watch."

With a shout of fury, Splinter leapt through the smoke-thickened air. Shredder extended his blades. Once again, they were locked in a deadly impasse. Time was running out. If Splinter could not defeat him soon, the house would fall down around them.

"All of us will die here!" Splinter cried, ducking to avoid the slash of Shredder's blades. He countered with a strike to the pressure point on Shredder's left shoulder. "Please, let my family go!"

Shredder snarled and replied with a low kick.

Splinter jumped high enough to avoid it and landed another blow.

A new voice entered the fray. "Oroku Saki! If I go with you willingly, will you let my husband and daughter live?"

At the sound of his wife's voice, Splinter's stomach plummeted in horror. Coughing, Tang Shen had emerged from the safe room.

Shredder paused; he stared at Shen with a primal hunger in his eyes. "You have my word."

"No!" Splinter shouted. "You cannot trust him!"

"What choice do we have?" Her eyes flashed in desperation, the wild look of a mother willing to do anything to protect her child. "Take Miwa and go, before it's too late!"

"No," Splinter whispered. But he knew she was right; their daughter's safety was of utmost importance. It was too late – the fire was raging so hot that in minutes or less there would be no escape for any of them.

Tang Shen was now the only currency that would purchase their daughter's life back from destruction.

"Come with me! Now!" Shredder bellowed.

The world slowed to a crawl. Splinter watched as his Rising Sun, glowing in the firelight like a brave, beautiful angel, went to surrender herself to blackest night. She was willing to suffer gloaming so that Miwa could live, so that the harmony of their love would not die out.

Tears welling in his eyes, he turned to retrieve Miwa. He knew that Shredder would not make this easy. He knew that the minute he and his daughter were free of the structure, Shredder would send every one of those soldiers after them. But he could defeat enough of them to escape. They were not grandmasters; likely, they did not have even a fraction of his skill. And once Miwa was safe, Splinter would save his wife.

The second Splinter's back was turned, Shredder's flickering shadow raised its blades.

Everything happened so fast the world nearly came to a standstill.

As Splinter turned to meet the strike, he realized in horror that he would not be able to dodge or deflect the fatal blow, but Tang Shen was already running to interpose.

Frame by frame, she leapt straight into the maw of the Shredder's blades. They bit deep into her breast; the points of the steel fangs emerged from her back. A fine spray of blood spattered onto Splinter's face.

A single word escaped her lips in a choking gasp. "Yoshi…"

Then, she went limp, slid off the Shredder's blades, and plummeted to the floor. A vermillion circle bloomed against the field of her white robe, but the Rising Sun had set forever. Splinter collapsed to his knees at her side, screaming her name, shaking her violently. Her lips were stained red with the blood of her dying gasp; her glassy eyes seemed to stare at him, begging him even from beyond death to save their daughter.

"What have you done?" roared the Shredder.

Splinter snapped his gaze up to his enemy. He went deaf with rage. What have I done? He could not even hear himself screaming as he pushed himself up from the floor, wanting nothing more than to rip Oroku Saki's heart out with his bare hands.

His hearing returned just in time to perceive the groaning and snapping of the house's supports. He narrowly dodged a falling beam and a wall of blistering inferno divided Splinter from his enemy. Shen's body disappeared beneath the debris that was now her pyre.

Over the roar of the fire and his own screaming, a faint sound managed to reach his ears.

The crying of a baby.

Miwa.

Miwa! The waves of heat were so intense that Splinter could barely keep his eyes open. He stumbled in the direction of the safe room, but the lintel in one of the doorways collapsed, sealing the entry with flame. Coughing, Splinter braced himself to leap through it – nothing mattered but Miwa.

Crack!

The ceiling collapsed. In seconds, he was buried in rubble. Flames licked along the length of his right leg, searing his flesh. Coughing in the dust and ash, he strained against the weight that pinned him.

Miwa's crying had ceased.

No. No. His daughter could not be dead. He had to fight his way out from under the wreckage, had to find her, had to save her or Shen's sacrifice would mean nothing…

He thought he heard the faintest sound of Miwa crying, but it faded as if it was being blown away by the wind. Adrenaline and anguish drove him from the ground. Grunting, he burst up through the rubble, but the bottom half of his body was still trapped. Slowly, painfully, he dragged himself out. The cuts on his forearms oozed blood with every exertion.

Through the haze of smoke and shimmering flames he saw the soldiers walking away. A lone figure limped after them.

Oroku Saki.

The man who had taken everything from him.

Everything.

Screaming, he reached out a single hand as if it would be enough to strike the Shredder dead where he stood. The only thing he wanted more than recompense for his wife was to save his daughter. That thought was what gave him the strength to drag himself away from the flames that were eating into his leg. He staggered away from the structure a few steps and was elated to see that the four pillars and ceiling of their safe room where still standing. He ran as fast as he was able to see if he could find a way in –

It collapsed.

Six-foot flames seethed around the wreckage.

"Miwa! No!"

He fell to his knees and beat his fists on the ground, scattering drops of blood like penance.

No.

He did not know how long he sat there, watching the last remnants of his life disintegrate into ash. Eventually, the pain in his leg made him aware that he needed to do something. His first thought was ritual suicide. If his wife and daughter were dead, it was only because of him. If his whole family was dead, it was because of the feud he had started with Oroku Saki…the man who had been his brother…

Splinter had brought dishonor and shame to his entire clan.

He had brought dishonor and shame and death to all of his students. To his clients and to his in-laws.

Unless…

Had Shredder only been goading him, trying to break his focus? He knew what he had to do; he had to see for himself what had happened, see the full extent of his dishonor.

He took inventory of his injuries. His left leg was bloodied and black in places, both of his forearms were scored with deep cuts, and various contusions were blooming everywhere else.

His parents' house was the first place he went. It was within walking distance, and his father had an extensive amount of first-aid supplies.

The journey was painful, but not as painful as the arrival. Their front door fluttered open and shut in the wind, as if hundreds of kami were entering to welcome the residents to the world of spirits. Splinter broke into an excruciating run. In through the door he went, hurrying through the familiar passages to his parents' room.

What he saw was nothing less than his worst fears. Their bed was drenched with blood; his mother was eviscerated, a look of shock permanently etched onto her face.

Otōsan…Okāsan…

He limped of the house, his heart empty and aching. He collapsed to the ground and vomited.

If this was true, why should anything else be false?

My clan…

There was nothing left to reclaim his honor except to take his life. Not even killing the Shredder would be enough to expunge his shame – if Splinter lived only for vengeance, how would that make him any different than Shredder? He ran to the dojo adjacent to his parent's house and found the sharpest sword there. He drew a deep breath, scanning the room one last time, taking in all of the memories that had happened here. His eyes passed over his family portrait.

In his mind, he heard his wife gasping his name as she died.

She had died to save him. What greater impurity could he possibly commit than to prove that her sacrifice was entirely in vain? Would she have wanted him to die, even if he could not save their daughter? His honor was irrelevant. Shen's was what mattered. He could not dishonor her death by causing his own. He would not spurn her memory. She deserved at least that much.

He threw the sword to the ground. He would go on living for her sake.

He would have to leave Japan. He would go somewhere that the Shredder would never find him. A place where he could disappear, where no one would know him, where no one could ever find out where he was…

He started to leave the dojo when something held him back. He turned and looked at the beautiful silk screens that had belonged to his family for over a century. So many weapons were there too – some of which had been forged by his ancestors. In his heart, he knew he could not leave these here to be claimed as evidence by the police – assuming that the Foot did not come back before then.

First, he needed to tend his injuries. Because they were so far out in the country, his parents had always kept an extensive amount of first aid supplies; they had taught him basic field medicine from his youth. He went back into the house and bathed his wounds in hydrogen peroxide, then slathered antibacterial burn gel over his leg and wrapped gauze around it. The wounds on his arms, however, would need sutures. As he looked for the sutures, however, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

His face was spattered with Tang Shen's blood.

Hands shaking, he washed it away. He did not have time to mourn now. Not when the Foot might return at any moment. When he finally found the sutures, he could hardly keep the sterile needle steady. The pain of stitching up his wounds was nothing compared to the raw anguish in his heart.

Once his wounds were dressed, he returned to the dojo and packed what he could. As he broke the silk screens from their frames and rolled them tightly, he tried to decide where he would go from here. He was fluent in English, after all.

Where was it that his childhood English tutor had been from? New York City? There, Splinter would be separated from Japan by all of the Pacific Ocean and America in one direction, and all of Asia, Europe, and the Atlantic ocean the other way. The world's largest ocean and the world's largest continent would shield him on either side. Plus, he could easily stow away on a ship across the Pacific, then somehow make his way to the East Coast. It would be a long journey, and difficult and dangerous without the proper documentation, but surely America had a thriving black market for such things.

He would need money. Going to a bank would be huge risk, but what choice did he have? Briefly, he reminded himself that there were ATMs – he would never get used to all of this new technology. His family had always resisted such change.

His family.

They were gone now.

He pushed the thought from his mind and loaded all of the things he was taking into his parents' old car. There were so many things he would have to leave behind; he took only the most valuable of the weapons. Even then, he found himself thinking that he might have to pare down his collection if he was going to take them with him.

The last thing he packed was his family portrait, a color photograph of him and Tang Shen together, and a few of the good-luck charms and statuettes that she had given to him. He sealed them tightly in a box, promising himself that he would not open it again until he had somehow made peace with himself.

Assuming that he ever would.

The next morning, bankers found that a bank account belonging to one Hamato Yoshi had been drained. Police found a vehicle registered to a murdered man not far from the docks. The crew of the transport company ship was blissfully unaware of the silently weeping passenger that had hidden his most precious possessions and himself in their cargo hold.

The ship sailed east – east, where the sun rose every morning. But even as the red orb was rising over the sparkling sea, Splinter still knew he would spend the rest of his life in sunset and night.