So…hi? How's it going? :D
Real life's been…complicated lately, to the say the least. My laptop got accidentally reformatted, and because I'm such a smart Chuchi, I didn't have any backup so all my files went a-poof. Then I had to move around because I switched jobs after having trouble with the last one. So with everything that's happened, I didn't have the time or energy to write anything until recently.
Also, I have to admit, I'm not into the way the current TMNT series is going. I find the recent developments with the Foot, the Turtles and April under par for my taste. And good Lord, don't get me started on Shinigami. I find myself hard pressed to like her and I'm miffed at Mikey for crushing on her at first sight. (Renet? What Renet?)
Err, no offense to Shinigami fans. If I may borrow to tweak the words of YGO!Abridged Seto Kaiba, "You fangirl your thing. I fangirl mine." XD
Still, I made a promise to finish this fanfic. And despite my hard drive taking a beating, I have most of the story mapped out. It's just a matter of putting down the words.
Read: I. WILL. FINISH. HOTWO!
Again, sorry for the long wait though. Will the fact that this is quite a long chapter make up for it?
Eh, let's find out.
雲散霧消 – Scattered Clouds, Disappearing Mist
The night was cool, the Lair quiet save for the light snoring and shuffling of its occupants getting some well-deserved sleep after that draining, eventful night for the Hamato clan.
Not Michelangelo, however.
In fact, the little turtle was not only wide awake and bushy tailed, he was also flitting about doing what anyone he knew never thought he would ever do in his life.
Cleaning.
That's right.
Flighty, lazy, haphazardly energetic Mikey was actually busy picking, uncluttering and dusting every inch of his small quarters, when a few months ago, he would have spent his night lounging with his comic books or some stray slices of pizza he managed to smuggle from the family's daily ration.
But then again, a few months ago, his brothers hadn't been kidnapped and brainwashed into lethal soldiers of the Shredder. A few months ago, his brothers teased and poked fun of him like the usual, but had kept their true— justified and totally correct— thoughts about him in the dark.
A few months ago, Mikey wasn't plagued by such intense night terrors of the Foot and his brothers turned into their evil henchmen that he had to run himself ragged somehow to get some semblance of sleep.
And since staying outside for too long wasn't an option, as Sensei will find out about his bouts of insomia these last several days (Splinter already had enough to worry about), Mikey thought that getting his room sorted out was way better than merely lying in bed, twiddling his thumbs.
With a bunch of black trash bags, Mikey had gotten rid of every last empty pizza box, candy and chips wrapper, scrapped paper and moth eaten old knick knacks in the room, changed all of his sheets with fresh ones Sensei gave him ages ago in one of the cabinets, and was in the process of locking away his stash of comics in some boxes.
Seeing his room spick and span for the first time in like forever, Mikey was struck by how liberating a little spring cleaning actually felt, both physically and mentally. It never bothered him before, but seeing his room this neat felt like he had also put his brain in order somewhat.
Maybe Leo was right. A neat space does makes for a neat mind. Mikey mused absently before a pang of pain and loss caught up with his thoughts.
Oh, what he would give to have the blue masked turtle's calming guidance right now, along with Raph's steady protectiveness and Donnie's patient reassurance.
Raph…His eyes burned anew at the memory of his latest encounter with his older brother. After the adrenaline wore off, Mikey became acutely aware of how shaken it left him, seeing his strong willed and stubborn Raphie-nii reduced to that state: trembling, barely able to hold himself together, broken by what the Shredder had forced him to become.
Yet his last conscious act had been to save Mikey once again, never sparing a thought for himself or their equally suffering brothers.
I'm supposed to be the strong one now. I'm the one who's supposed to do the protecting. Yet I ended up getting saved again, Mikey's eyes clenched shut. By the very brothers I'm supposed to save. By the very brothers who I just keep failing over and over again.
Mikey fell to his knees, a stash of books and comics going down with him, hitting his head against the mattress and barely muffling a choked sob.
Raphie-nii, gomene. Mikey thought mournfully, hands remaining clenched on his lap while he pushed his head further against his bed stained by his tears. Leo -nii, Donnie-nii, I'm so sorry. I feel like I should have done something more but I failed. I'm sorry it's taking me so long and because of that, you must be suffering so much.
I wish I could do better, but I'm not you guys. I'm just Mikey. This is the best I can give and I hate myself so much because it's not enough.
I just wish I knew how I can make it work out somehow…A feel of something hard against his palm shook Mikey out of his thoughts. …Huh?
A quick glance to the side saw Mikey's hand pressed against the spine of a book that felt much thicker than his usual comics. Curiously, the orange masked turtle skimmed the cover of an old book.
Hamato Himitsu Ryuu: Kusarigama no jutsu?
It was one of the books Splinter had left of the Hamato clan style of ninjutsu, and one of the few remaining that focused on a particular skill of the Jūhakkei, written by a Hamato jounin who was a master of it a long time ago. It caught Mikey's eye that one time he was playing in the dojo because while he was steadily progressing with his use of the nunchuks, his kusarigama skills were sorely lacking.
That, and the fact that it was one of the few books they have that actually has as much pictures as it did words (though the book was written in Japanese).
I can't believe it's still here…Mikey thought as he turned the book lightly in his hands. You would have thought Sensei would have looked around and taken this book back after it was obvious I wasn't reading it anymore, not that I've gotten very far. I probably totally forgot about it five minutes tops.
In truth, Mikey had never gotten past the first three pages, as his subpar kusarigama skills could easily show. While he could confidently say that he was comfortable with fighting with his chuks in any given situation, the same couldn't exactly be said with his other weapon type. While the kusarigama can be quite the lethal weapon, it also had severe limitations especially when it came to fighting in closed spaces. Not to mention getting the chain caught can lead to a wide opening unless Mikey was prepared (which he wasn't, most of the time).
Maybe now would be a good time to brush up on the book again? While Sensei did acknowledge that he was becoming a better ninja than ever, Mikey needed every bit of knowledge he could get to keep on surpassing himself. He needed to be stronger, faster, smarter so that he won't have to fail his family again.
So that his beloved niichan-tachi won't have to be put in a situation so dire again…
"I'm coming back for you!" Mikey remembered himself screaming over the fighting and the broiling emotions that night. "You hear me, Leo-nii, Donnie-nii, Raphie-nii? I'll get you all back and then I'm gonna beat the Shredder to the ground for everything he's done!"
I made a promise to my bros. Sky blue irises hardened with resolution. And I'll keep it if it's the last thing I'll ever do!
"S-Sensei?"
Splinter heard the call a second time, yet his ears could still hardly believe it.
For after weeks of not even getting a glimpse of their shadows, having only the stories of what the Foot turned them into, here standing before him were his precious lost sons just like how he remembered them.
Two of them, at least. "Leonardo? Donatello?"
The turtles looked up when they heard him call, and his oldest even made a step forward. But almost immediately they drew back, green forms rigid and hunched with something painful and subduing.
Yet those eyes—one pair of dulled sapphire and the other of sooty rubies—those eyes marred with familiar longing as intense as Splinter's own were more than enough proof for the man turned rat.
In a flash, Leonardo and Donatello found themselves drawn into their father's arms.
"My dear sons," Splinter whispered hoarsely, pressing both of them to his chest ever so tightly. "My dear, brave children…"
Donatello cried out first, arms wounding round Splinter's torso as his form shook violently from the force of his harsh sobbing while Leonardo's hands dug trembling, white knuckled fists on the front of the older ninja's robes.
"Father, you're here. I—I was hoping we would but I, we didn't think we could—" The oldest turtle croaked out, and Splinter felt his heart crack further for Leonardo, who often favored calling the rat the more respectful (in his mind) Sensei. Who only ever called sensei Father in times of vulnerability too much for his determination to shoulder the world for his brothers to bear.
For his willful and at times stubbornly prideful eldest to sound so utterly defeated…
"Father, please," A tug at his robe and Donatello's voice brought Splinter back to the present. "You guys are OK, right? Is everyone, did they all—?"
"We are all right, my son. Your brother and your friends made it back home safely." Splinter answered gently, smiling slightly when the turtles' forms visibly sagged in relief. "It does my heart good to see you, my sons, but how did you get to the astral plane? And where is your brother, Raphael?"
"Oh, Raph, he…" Donatello cleared his throat. "He couldn't make it here, not after what happened, back at…the Foot's headquarters." Tremble. "Err, I think we should explain from the beginning…?"
Leonardo took over at his younger brother's questioning look. "When the Shredder used those…things on us, it was like we were shoved to the backseat, watching this horrible movie of us. We could see what was happening, we could hear everything but we couldn't do anything to stop as it took over us, changing our perspectives, making it so that our mindset coincides with the Shredder's."
"It is as if the brainworms are somehow able to reverse our conscious thoughts and feelings about things," The purple banded turtle added. "The more we care about something for example, the more the brainworm makes us believe that we hate it. I don't know how the Shredder had done it but the new brainworms managed to twist our beliefs and values around, changing us to complete monstrosities of ourselves, making us spout all those hateful words…all those terrible deeds…and…"
Splinter felt his heart break anew at Donatello's renewed weeping. "Mikey, oh my God, Mikey, what have we…how could I…?"
"What has happened the past few weeks was not your fault, Donatello, Leonardo," Splinter said as firmly as he could, catching both turtles' eyes. "Our friends know this. Your brother knows this, and so do I. There is no one to blame for all this other than Saki and those abominable brainworms—"
"But it is my fault, sensei!" Leonardo bit out each word as if they were red hot nails. "I was the leader! I should have realized that the ambush at the roof was a trap to begin with! I should have been strong enough to keep at least Raph and Donnie from getting caught. But I wasn't! I was too weak to do anything and…because of that…"
The oldest turtle held his head with both trembling hands. "Mikey, he had been so brave, even when we were all going against him, hurting him in the worst possible ways, he still tried so hard to reach out, bring us back to our senses.
"I wanted to tell him so badly that I was there, that I could hear him and that I was fighting so hard to come back, but those brainworms were in such total control that all I could do is beg for someone, anyone, to please, just please, get my little brother the hell away from me!"
Splinter could only stare brokenly as the blue masked turtle fall to the floor at the overwhelming weight of guilt and grief.
"I'm sorry, sensei, Mikey, everyone!" Leonardo choked out, barely sensing Donatello joining him in kneeling to an apologetic bow. "I'm so, so sorry!"
The rat ninja's chest throbbed while reaching out to comfort his two grieving sons once more. Times like these made him sorely miss his youngest child's ability to draw in the sunlight of hope even in the family's darkest hours.
Oh, Michelangelo, if only you are with us here right now…
If only I'm with sensei right now. Mikey thought, biting back a whine over the headache building behind his head because of the information overload he was putting his brain through right now.
True to what the little terrapin remembered, the book he was studying did have a lot more pictures than words, and for a good reason.
The old thing was not a book for beginners, dedicating only a handful of pages to a brief background of kusarigamajutsu basics and other related info before jumping into detailed analysis on weapon techniques and how to overcome shortcomings and flaws.
The writer was also able to point out the things Mikey had major problems with his second weapon type, proving that they were most likely glaring issues to several other users. Thankfully, the book was accompanied by several useful suggestions on how to circumvent the kusarigama's weaknesses to suit a ninja's particular fighting style.
Mikey, for instance, wasn't as hardy as Raph or Leo who were better at taking enemies head on (the second oldest turtle being particularly aggressive about it), but Donnie's way of keeping enemies at a manageable distance through defensive techniques didn't appeal to him either.
The more Mikey thought about it, the more he found that he was adept at taking advantage of both styles, fluidly traversing between close quarter and mid-range fighting depending on what the situation called for. It was an advantage his dual weaponry had given him that his brothers did not have; an advantage woefully neglected in the past.
If only he could understand the drawings and techniques shown in the book a lot more clearly.
While Mikey was getting better at his training and absorbing new knowledge in becoming a better ninja, most of the time he still needed his sensei's advice to make the most out of what he had been learning. Without Splinter's help, the amount of information and possibilities being crammed into his head was reaching the point that Mikey felt he had too much to work with to know where to start.
But it would be so down the cool meter if I just barged in on Sensei this late just because I got a bolt of ninja-wesome inspiration. Mikey huffed to himself while taking note of another bright suggestion from the book onto his expanding list of notes. Besides, it's not like all of these ideas will fit me to a T, right? I just need to figure out which ones will work, then I can go over them with him tomorrow during training.
Besides, knowing him, Sensei's probably busy meditating anyway so definitely shouldn't be bothering him then. Wonder how that's going for him though?
"You're all in danger, Sensei."
Well, Splinter's night couldn't have gotten on more swimmingly.
"What do you mean by that, Donatello?" The rat ninja asked sharply, already feeling his fur standing on end at the way the second youngest turtle averted his gaze from where the three of them sat, turtles a short distance across their master.
"You must have noticed, Sensei, that despite being with the Shredder for weeks now, he still hasn't found the Lair." Donatello began. "That's because somehow, we were able to detach a little bit of our own consciousness to form a block of some sort. It keeps the part under the Foot's control unaware of some things, more importantly the Lair's actual location."
"It surprised me." Leonardo added his input. "I didn't expect for us to end up together in the Astral Plane nor the fact that the same thing with the block happened to us. We don't know why it happened. Maybe it was because of the meditation exercises, our connection to the Astral Plane, and us wanting to protect you guys as much as we still can."
"But with what's happened with Raph, I think the block from his side is completely down. Perhaps because this last bit of consciousness cannot withstand doing things beyond what it's supposed to do for too long." Donatello hypothesized, his brown eyes dimming gloomily. "I hoped it wasn't so, but after not seeing Raph around anymore, I…that piece of him must have rejoined with the whole. And I assume that, once our time here is over…Leo and I too will…"
Splinter's heart sank to the ground and beyond. If what Donatello said was correct, then an earnest siege on the Lair tonight was most possible. Even worse, the Foot couldn't have come at a more opportune time: April, Casey and Michelangelo exhausted in more ways than one, the Mutanimals too far away, and the clan short of three skilled ninjas…
Despite knowing this, Splinter fought to keep a blank façade and a firm voice. "If that is the case, then it would be prudent to return and prepare. How much longer do you think we still have?"
Leonardo winced. "Last time I was aware, Raph was still out, and Donnie and I—the ones under Shredder's command, I mean—" Shudder. "They're currently meditating again, trying to find the block. Since we're still here, I don't think they managed to break through yet. But once we leave, and if what Donnie says is true, then I guess you have thirty minutes at most to get ready."
"And by then," Donatello finished in a hushed whisper. "There's really nothing the three of us can do anymore."
The heavy tone of finality like a heavy cloak of despair lit a spark in Splinter's chest. "None of that, Leonardo, Donatello. Considering your circumstances, you have done yourselves well. Despite knowing that it will cost you the last bit of your consciousness, you have risked everything to relay your warning and to give our family a fighting chance."
"But we should have done more!" Donatello cried out. "Here we are, aware of the fact that as soon as we disappear, the Foot clan would rain down hell on the Lair yet there's nothing else we can do about it!
"Donate—"
"Even worse, we will be part of that attack and would most certainly be enjoying ourselves while we're at it!" The purple masked turtle's pupils shrank as he gripped his shaking head. "Brandishing those horrid weapons like animals while we tear our home apart like vicious, rabid beasts! All while that damn akuma will be up in his tower, sitting on his garish throne, chortling while these horrendous versions of us dance on his strings, hunting down Sensei, Casey, April—"
"Donatello," Splinter tried again, gripping his second youngest son's quaking shoulders as firmly as he could. "It's enough. You have already done more than I thought you could at the moment. Leave the rest to us. We will not fall to the Foot that easily, after everything we've been through. Your brother and I will—"
"—MIKEY!" It took Splinter digging a foot to the ground to stop from falling when Donatello suddenly jumped and grabbed onto the rat man's arms. "Mikey! You have to keep Mikey away from us, Sensei! You can't let him engage the Foot again like before! That, that dunderhead, always putting himself in so much danger, not even thinking of the consequences—didn't he know how close he was to getting himself killed? Back then with Raph? He practically drove me insane worried sick at the time!"
"You know I cannot ask that of him, my sons." Splinter knew he had to tread gently on this. Knew that if he was going to give his sons a miniscule of peace before they will most likely disappear for a time, he would have to make this work. "Michelangelo has been working like we have never seen him before, steadily building his strength to get you three back. I know you have seen it for yourselves. He has taken the cause of saving you to heart, which you too would have done if the situation is reversed."
"He has, Sensei. We did see." Leonardo said, tenderness, pride and something else—regret?—passing in his eyes if only for a moment. "But if there's someone among you guys we—those monsters—would be raring to kill first, it would be Mikey! For some reason, those worms are making them see him as a stain in their ninja honor or some rot. We're still somehow connected to them so we can feel a bit of what they do and, oh Kami—the hate for Mikey, the need to kill him, destroy him, that horrible glee that comes with the thought of it—!"
"I know this must be difficult, but it would not be fair to ask Michelangelo to give up his chance to save you to protect himself." Splinter reasoned. "You have seen him hold out his own well against you. Can you not find it in yourselves to believe in him, the same way he has always believed in you?"
"It's not a matter of faith, sensei!" Leonardo cut in as sharp as his blades. "It's about keeping our brother safe from us, these terrible versions of ourselves who would tear him apart without a single thought! Yes, it's an absolute hell, where we are right now; but if the cost of saving us is to lose Mikey in the process then I, we," The blue masked turtle amended when Donatello gave a sharp nod. "Will never accept that! It just can't turn out that way! You can't risk it! You can't let him—!"
Then, like an old train that has run out of steam, Leonardo's words came to an abrupt choke as he put a hand over his eyes. Donatello was immediately by the other turtle's side with a hand on either side, understanding in his teary brown eyes. "Leo…"
Splinter waited before gently embracing his two grief laden sons again, one that the turtles latched onto for much needed comfort.
"Every time our darker selves would close their eyes to dream or meditate, the brainworm fills our heads with words, images. Sometimes, it would be us running Mikey through our weapons." Donatello let out a broken sob heavy with an all-encompassing guilt. "On others times, it would be us h—hacking him to pieces. But in all of them, we would hear him, just like the first time, begging for us to come to our senses. That he doesn't want to fight us anymore because we're brothers and that he loves us.
"But then we'd swat those words away, as if they were vermin. We—we'd take turns, calling him despicable names, laughing at him, telling him that we never saw him as a brother. That he was a deadweight who deserved to die. That we never cared about him."
"But that's not true. That would never ever be true." Leonardo's grief, on the other hand, was choking with equal parts rage and anguish. "Mikey, he, he may get under our skins more often than not, and he may have made mistakes, but we would never hate him. Never! We…we may never say it outright or as often as we should, but we love him. He's our little baby brother, we swore to always protect him no matter what,
"And he knows that, right, Sensei?"
That threw the ninja master on an ineloquent loop. "Eh?"
"Mikey knows that—" Donatello repeated for his brother. "Mikey knows that we love him, right? That whatever garbage we were spouting about him isn't true at all because he's a good ninja, the—the best littlest brother in the world and beyond that we all love so much more than we can ever put to words. But at least he knows we do, right?" Tugging at Splinter's robes, an old habit the turtles shared whenever they were in need of reassurance. "Right, Sensei? Please?"
Splinter suppressed a flinch at the amount of hope bordering to desperation in his sons' gazes right now. Oh, he sorely wished he could assure them of such. He normally would in a heartbeat.
But with what he had recently learned from Michelangelo, and the snatches of heart to hearts they've had these last several days, Splinter could not give them the answer they badly needed and be completely honest about it.
"They're the best big brothers anyone in any universe can ever ask for. Too bad they went to a little brother who didn't deserve them at all."
"And he loves you as well, Leonardo, Donatello, which is what drives him to fight for you with everything he can give." Splinter finally answered. "So you owe it to your brother to keep fighting as well. Believe in him and our friends, as if it is the only thing left that you can do." A furred paw tilted Leonardo's head, dark blue meeting aged brown. "I will see them through the rest."
Everything was quiet—for how long Splinter did not know—until Donatello made a soft noise. "L—Leo, look!"
Leonardo's gaze shifted from Splinter to the ephemeral light surrounding himself and his brother. "So I guess that's it, then?"
Splinter held a breath. "Does this mean…?"
"We've used up all the time we have left, sensei." Donatello whispered, a sad smile on his lips. "So this has to be goodbye for now. I hope."
"Remember that once we disappear, you have to wake up." Leonardo said urgently with a squeeze to his father's arm. "You have to wake up, gather everybody and leave the Lair as soon as you can. We don't know how many goons the Shredder will send after you, so best be ready for anything."
"Of course, Leonardo." Splinter tried to give his children a reassuring smile even though it felt like his heart was breaking all over again at the sight of his children's bodies slowly turning into light colored wisps. "And remember what we've talked about. We will come to save you soon. Stand strong."
The two turtles were slowly being lifted to the air, Splinter rising to his feet with them as he took a hand from each son to one of his.
"This is not goodbye, my sons." The man turned rat said firmly while blinking back the wetness in his eyes. "I will not say it, because I know we will meet again when you and Raphael will finally come home. So take courage, trust that someday we will all be together again. All of us!"
"H-hai…" Leonardo and Donatello traded glances then whispered in unison. "I—Itekimasu, Sensei."
The last vestiges of his children's true consciousness faded away into the cold Astral Plane winds, cradled by Splinter's parting words to their wake.
"Iterashai."
"…Huh?"
Mikey looked up in confusion from his work, doing a quick survey of his small room.
Eh, just me, myself and I down here. Mikey confirmed with a bemused blink. So why did it feel like someone else's just been here?
Maybe he was just being paranoid, but he could have sworn he felt something a while ago. Not that the sensation had been entirely unpleasant. In fact, the feeling earlier was quite warm and soothing like a fond head rub.
Just like the ones his niichan-tachi used to give him…
Mikey thought over it some more before shaking his head. Nah, I'm probably just getting way too sleepy. I should call it a night, or way early morning. I've already made quite a list of ideas for the kusarigama jutsu that I should go over with Sensei tomorrow. Or is it already today? Dang, I really need to get that clock in here at some point in my life.
With that, Mikey tucked away his notepad and book under his pillow then flipped around so that he was on his stomach, facing a sheet of paper Mikey taped above where his headboard was supposed to be at.
Believe it or not, Mikey can actually do To-Do lists. To be fair, those occasions are few and far in between, but even Mikey knew the benefits of having a checklist to get things done every now and then.
Pen in hand, Mikey crossed out the "Get a brainworm from the Tin can" item and placed a couple more under the last one before smiling in satisfaction.
Gotta Do's:
-Finalize Operation Recon-
-Get a brainworm from the Tin can-
Check traps
Contact the contact - Meetup date and time?
Mail docs to the Doc (DO TOMORROW BEFORE BREAKFAST!)
Review Kusarigama jutsu list with Sensei
Looks like somebody will have a busy day tomorrow. Gotta at least try to get some sleep. Mikey thought, stifling a yawn. I'll deal with all that stuff tom—after an hour or two. Maybe five. God I hope it's five.
And as soon as Mikey's head hit the pillow, the little turtle had every intention to stay dead to the world until it was time to start tomorrow. Or early today, whichever it was, preferably after at least five hours of heavenly goodness sleep.
So naturally, life decided to be an all-around bitch and have other plans.
"NO!"
Wait, what the—? Barely ten minutes of shut eye in, Mikey was out his door, nunchuks at the ready when he heard a loud noise coming from inside the Lair. At the Pit, he could see April and Casey scrambling from their sleeping mats for their weapons.
"What the hell was that?" Casey hissed, eyes frantically scanning the dimly lit Pit as he jumped up.
"I—I don't know but," April was already on the move, tessen gripped tightly in hand. "I think it came from Master Splinter's room."
But before the three teens could reach Splinter's room, the shoji door moved on its own.
"Children!" Mikey, April and Casey tensed tenfold at the sight of Splinter leaning heavily on the doorframe, ears pricked up and looking like he fought a battle in his sleep. "We—we have to leave. I have received a warning. The Foot may have possibly found the Lair and is about to launch an attack!"
"Wh—what?!" April gasped while Casey spluttered. "When? How? At, what," He glanced at his watch. "Two thirty in the frigging morning? Are they out of their minds?!" Beside them, Mikey was frowning thoughtfully.
"I will explain everything later." Splinter said, jade cane already at hand. "But for now time is of the essence. There is no telling when the Foot will arrive or how many of them will be here. We have to prepare to make an escape. Holding on our position in the Lair will be out of the question."
April fought hard to keep her growing panic and anguish in check. First, her best friends and now her second home? Just how much more are the Foot planning to take from her? "G—got it, Master Splinter. What do we need to do?"
"You think we can contact the Mutanimals for help?" Casey suggested. "Getting them down here to help us fight ain't happening, I know. But maybe they know some other safe place we can stay?"
"I don't even know where they are, but I can try to reach Dr. Rockwell telepathically. Still, there's the matter of how we can actually get away." April fidgeted, chewing her bottom lip. "We'll have to be careful about this. We can't lead the Foot to where the Mutanimals are too—"
"Guys!"
Realizing the smallest terrapin had been quiet throughout the ruckus until now, Splinter's eyes flew to his youngest son's direction. "Michelangelo?"
To everyone's bemusement, Mikey was already on the Tphone, looking far from surprised or worried. If anything, the turtle looked oddly resigned.
"OK, I know this is a serious situation but trust me, we don't need to panic. There are just some things we need to get into the Shellraiser, then we can skip outta here before the Foot can do some serious damage. But first, I gotta—wait up." The orange masked turtle made an apologetic wave to his friends and father. "Yo, Leatherhead!"
The other three watched in amazement as Mikey turned to his new conversation with a collected air. "Sorry to call you so late, err, early, but we got a problem. Yeah, remember what we talked about weeks back? The what if thing? Yup, it's happening. God I hate it when I'm right about—uh huh. Yeah, we got this, I swear. There's me, Sensei, Casey and April, remember? Don't worry, Leatherhead. We're ready for this, remember? It'll be OK!"
April and Casey traded slack jawed expressions at the way Mikey was handling the whole situation. The way he was smoothly taking charge, hearing as if he somehow anticipated all this was going to happen. It's almost as if…
"Yeah, got it. Thanks a dozen pizzas, Leatherhead! See ya!" A beep later, Mikey turned to his family with a slight grin.
April was the first to speak. "Mikey, what on Earth is going on?"
"Eheh, sorry I know this is confusing and all. But hold on to your pants," The orange masked turtle held a thumbs up. "Because your favorite Mikester's got a plan!"
Chuchi's Cultural Corner!
Unsan mushō (雲散霧消) – Kanji directly translates to "Scattered clouds, disappearing mist". Used to pertain to something that has vanished completely.
Akuma (悪魔): demon, devil, fiend.
Itekimasu (いってきます) and Iterashai (いってらっしゃい): Roughly translate as "I'm off" and "See you later" respectively. The former is used by someone who is about to leave home and the latter by those who'll be left behind. This means that the people exchanging these greetings will see each other again (i.e. coming home), contrast to Sayonara ( さようなら), which can come off as a more permanent or long term goodbye.
Headcanons and Other Extras!
-Yes, Mikey does have To Do lists, but he calls them Gotta Do's. He uses them rarely, though, for special occasions or for things he really wants to get done. A recent example would be his Gotta Do's for his Mutation Day present for his family.