Chapter Text
i.
A shower of red petals, blinding lights, a roaring crowd, and blood-stained hands. This was a typical Monday afternoon for Leonardo in the Battle Nexus. It was his only day of the week in action, so of course he had to put on a show. The stadium’s viewing gallery would completely sell out whenever “The Cerulean Death” was listed to fight, and who wouldn’t want to see him battle? He was freaking fantastic at it! Slashing at yokai, spilling blood, guts, and other questionable substances, being exalted by adoring fans…
Then it was back to his room. The dull stone floors and walls were a stark contrast to the bright and colorful arena, and Leonardo almost wished that he never had to leave the arena at all. It was a happy place for him, a place where people could see him, and that’s all the fourteen-year-old wanted. To be seen.
Big Mama’s familiar steps came down the hallway towards his room, and as usual the teen sat up from his previously laid-out position on the slightly too stiff bed. Her multitude of eyes peered through the slot in the door before it swung open on its hinges and her delighted smile was clearly visible. Leonardo couldn’t help but smile back at her, sitting up a bit more. When Big Mama was happy, Leo was happy.
“There’s my little Cerulean Death!” She extolled, stepping halfway into the room and ducking through the doorway to fit. “How was today’s round? Those bear yokai certainly weren’t any issue I assume?”
Leonardo panted, holding the side of his plastron tight as the spider web-like cracks splayed out across the protective piece. The final bear yokai remaining had shiny white fur that was almost crystalline, and now stained red with the turtle’s blood. He was losing life fast, and wouldn’t last much longer. The first two bears, one brown and one a mix of black and white, both lay dead somewhere else in the arena, leaving the final yokai who had backed Leo into a corner. A corner with no escape.
His right hand’s grip tightened around the hilt of his bent tsurugi, the dull blue wrappings giving him a better hold on the weapon that had already been stained with bear remains. He needed a plan and he needed it, like, two weeks ago. He hadn’t realized it would be a three-on-one fight today, no wonder everyone was cheering so loud! The sheer volume of his fans was enough to make his ears ring and his headache worse. Or maybe that was the blood loss. Either way, Leo had to think-
The bear claws that were hard as diamond and black as charcoal came too fast.
Leonardo laughed, shaking his head in agreement with her. “Not a problem at all, took ‘em out real easy.” he paused. “..didn’t you watch the match?”
Big Mama paused as well, and her smile turned insincerely apologetic. “Mama got in a bit of a tizzy before your match, love. I couldn’t make it today, but next week, absolutely!” Leo knew she wasn’t actually sorry, her sincerity was about as real as his ability to fly. Even in knowing this, he couldn’t help but somewhat believe her.
“Pffsh– nah, you’re fine. Things happen.” he shrugged and gave her an easy smile, which made her smile back. “Besides, it wasn’t even that fair of a fight, I won way easily.”
He swore he felt his shell crack, but paid it no mind as he rolled to the right, narrowly missing being slashed to death by an angry yokai. Turns out the bear looked crystalline because it WAS crystalline- it’s fur wasn’t fur at all, instead being a very thin-pricked crystal material. Leo found that out the hard way after trying to grab the bear for a quick turn around where he ended up tearing his palm completely open.
Now with his bloody hand covering his plastron and his other hand holding his sword, he stood and stared at the bear, who stared right back with empty black eyes.
“Come on, Leon.” He hyped himself up under his breath, leaning from foot to foot to relieve the pressure on his twisted right ankle. “Come on, Leon, you’re the Cerulean Death, you got this. You fucking got this–”
And with what little motivation he had salvaged, he pushed on adrenaline and ran at the bear with the intent to kill.
“Good! Just as I would expect from a fighter like you.” Big Mama clapped her hands together in a way of showing she was pleased with this information, and Leo’s smile relaxed. He leaned back on the wall that his bed was beside, ignoring the shudder that threatened to slip. His bandaged up hand rested on his leg.
“...So, any idea what I’m doing tomorrow?” he asked, tilting his head. The spider yokai before him paused. She knew what that question meant, and she couldn’t help but sigh exhaustedly.
She gave him a look, then responded, “Ceru, you know I can’t let you leave here unless you’re in a match. It just isn’t fair to the rest of my babies.” She crossed one set of arms, and Leo groaned dramatically.
“Oh come on, you do know what tomorrow is right?” He questioned, ankle wrapped in bandages twitching slightly. “My birthday? ”
And just like that, Leo was given some new permissions. Once a year, on his birthday, the turtle would be allowed to go out. Of course, he would be under supervision by Big Mama’s security, and he wouldn’t be allowed to leave the Hidden City, but he was allowed out. That’s all that mattered to him. Last year on his birthday he had gone out to the markets and eaten quite possibly the best food he had ever tasted. This year he planned on doing the exact same thing, it was sort of a tradition to celebrate his aging-up by eating new food.
After Big Mama left once they were done negotiating the terms of his day trip, Leo fell back against his bed, grinning up at the ceiling with all the excitement of a kid on Christmas Eve. This year, he thought, maybe I’ll try topside food.
Screaming. That was all Leonardo could hear now, but it wasn’t his own vocalizations of terror, no. It was the bear yokai that had so unfortunately run directly into the sharp side of his sword. It ran into the side of his sword twelve times without moving, how impressive, Leonardo thought as he ripped his sword out of its side. The bear fell fast, completely unable to fight. The turtle stared down at the beast, and spit blood to the ground at his own feet. Finally, now he could go get bandaged up and eat something.
On second thought, Leonardo had lost his appetite. Heart full of disturbed dread, he picked a stray flower petal off of his shoulder and flicked it away onto the floor of his room– no, his cell. The only home he’s known for fourteen years and three-hundred and sixty-four days. The home that he’d see for the rest of his days.
Great, Donnie thought, another F. At this rate I can say bye to college. His brain filled with mush, the fourteen-year-old crumbled up the paper and tossed it into the nearby industrial blue trash bin. The school’s hallways had mostly cleared by now, the bell having dismissed all the students about ten minutes ago. Now only freshmen waiting for their rides home and after-school club-goers remained, making the linoleum hallways echo softly with each footstep. Donatello never liked the school when it was like this, he could hear everything. That fly buzzing by the bin, the creak of a door opening down the hall, two girls having a gossip sesh in the bathroom by the broken water fountain that never stopped running water.
It sucked.
He huffed, pulling his phone from his pocket to scroll idly. The latest IPhone, of course, with a sleek black case that had a purple dragon insinga, the same logo on the back of his beautifully tailored satin jacket. The dragon was a simple silhouette with bright red eyes that almost glowed in the dark. The puffy sleeves hid Donnie’s surprisingly fit frame, and the oversized fit fell to his upper thigh. That’s right, he had earned that jacket, and found a place where he belonged. A place without Draxum.
He quickly shook off that thought, huffing and pushing back some of the holo-dreads that were part of his human disguise. No point in thinking about that part of his life right now, no. Right now Donnie had to get to the computer lab. He straightened his posture, letting a fake and lazy smile grace his face as he started walking down the too-quiet hallway.
It wasn’t long until his black ankle-high Doc Martens crossed the threshold of his group’s regular meeting spot, which was a computer lab on the second floor of the high school. The lights were out as expected. Donnie walked in without hesitance, his motion triggering one of the sensors that alerted the group leader’s smartphone. There wasn’t really a need to announce his arrival, however, since he was always the last one here. The other members of the Purple Dragons looked over at the late-arriving boy, and their leader Kendra gave Donnie her signature squinty stink-eye.
“You’re late. Again. Don’t think you can just keep doing this, tortuga-” she scoffed, crossing her arms as she expected an answer to her silent question of “where were you.”
But, Donnie cut her off; “Relax, relax, I was just getting some water. You know how much turtles love water.” He gave her a smug grin, his digital cloak turning off at the press of a button on his armband. His dark brown complexion became its natural green, and the holo-dreads completely fizzled away. Five fingers became three, and the only part of him that remained were his heterochromic eyes, the left red and the right blue. “And I am, in fact, a turtle.”
Kendra glared, and Jason grumbled under his breath in annoyance. The club leader spoke again while Donnie took his usual spot in front of a myriad of seemingly disorganized monitors, commenting, “You’re lucky I don’t expose you to the world. We would make a pretty penny from the discovery of a mutant.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’d make money, but you’d lose me. And I know how much you love me. ” Donatello remarked sarcastically, booting up his custom systems and getting ready to continue his most recent project that may or may not have something to do with locating lots of uranium. “Besides, I’m too valuable for you to get rid of! My tech makes up… what, half of this room?” He gestured around vaguely with one hand, his grin widening as he leaned back in his plush purple computer chair.
Kendra’s hands balled into fists, and she didn’t respond. Instead, she walked off to her own set-up, sliding into her seat and glaring at her much less impressive monitors.
And that’s how the day before Donnie’s fifteenth birthday went: he worked on his project in the seething silence of his fellow Purple Dragons, and honestly, forgot that his birthday was in less than twenty-four hours. Someone else, however, did not forget.
Late into the night, around eleven, Donnie was alone in the computer room having never left. While the other club members went to their homes, Donnie hadn’t one to go to. So, he stayed at his work, eyes dry by now from too much blue-light exposure. He had zoned into his work, having no intention of stopping until early morning, when he planned to retreat to his hideout under the gymnasium bleachers.
As his fingers started cramping with the carpal tunnel he had developed, his phone buzzed on the table. The unexpected motion made Donatello jump, pulling his fingers quickly from the modified keyboard. He grabbed the phone, wincing as his sore wrists finally got rotating movement, and opened up the screen to see a text from none other than his best friend. A smile graced his face, Donnie relaxed, and opened the message from Miss O’Neil.
April O’N. : HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU IDIOT
April O’N. : wait its not midnight yet
April O’N. : DAMNIT I WAS EARLY
April O’N. : anyways r u busy bc we should meet up for midnight bday pizza
Donnie did hesitate, reluctant to leave his work, but the promise of pizza wasn’t something that he could just ignore. He sent back a quick response, then locked up all of his screens. After making sure everything was secure and safe, he left the computer lab. He stuck to the shadows of the hallways to avoid the cameras and late-night janitorial staff, making it outside soon enough. It didn’t take long for him to walk to the nearby building, climbing the fire escape with surprising agility, and making it to the roof easily. Once up top, he looked around briefly, made a mental decision, and started running from roof to roof, jumping between alleyways and avoiding security systems with ease.
Soon enough he landed on the roof of an apartment building, sitting criss-crossed on the edge and waiting patiently for his promised birthday food and confidant. It took around ten minutes, but the familiar clinking of converse on a fire escape came in time. April peeked her head over the edge of the building, wheezing and sliding three pizza boxes onto the concrete to relieve her shoulder muscles.
Donnie, of course, was of zero help as she pulled herself up and laid on the roof dramatically to catch her breath. “Goodness gracious– ” she coughed, staring up at the stars for a second. Donatello walked over, snickering.
“It’s my birthday, I didn’t have to help you.”
“Isn’t technically your birthday, yet.” She glared with no malice.
“False, Miss O’Neil, it is twelve-oh-two.” he smirked, holding out his hand to pull her up, which she took gratefully. With his help, she stood and sighed.
“Damn, why do you have to be correct..” she grumbled, but smiled despite this inconvenience. “..happy birthday, old-ass.”
“Thank you, even-older-ass.” The turtle sat down by the pizza boxes, opening up the top one and taking a slice of cheesy birthday goodness.
iii.
“....and.. Michelangelo is with the… Foot Clan?” Raphael asked with quiet disbelief, staring down at the dojo floor. He sat on his knees across from his father, Splinter, who nodded sadly.
“Yes, your brother’s fates were… unfortunate. I only wish I could have saved you all.” the mutant rat man said softly, a hint of guilt and regret lingering in the air. The atmosphere of the room was just sorrowful.
Raphael, freshly sixteen (as of literally five minutes ago), was just now hearing about the existence of three brothers. He had been raised here in the sewers alone his entire life, being trained by Splinter in the ways of the Hamato Clan.
“...why are you telling me this now…?” he asked, looking away from the ground and to his father, wanting answers.
But Splinter hesitated, mouth opening to speak but no words came out. Instead, a soft sigh escaped. Then, he tried again, managing to say, “...I… I believe you are ready.”
“...ready?”
“Yes, ready. I believe you are ready to save them.”