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Chapter Text

This… Draxum man, Yoshi did not like. His two little gargoyle henchmen were much more tolerable. He kind of liked those guys, they were agreeable. But Draxum. Draxum. Was an asshole. 

Yoshi noted the small turtle held in his hand, all stripes and curiosity, and cringed at Draxum’s monologue about nature, defence and warriors. He heard nothing but overzealous gloating. He sounded like that funny guy with the dojos… The Komodo guy with the bad hair. He could picture Draxum’s words with that guy’s ugly face. 

Wait, no he was getting off track. 

“…Until now, when I use your DNA to mutate them.” Draxum turned his back to Yoshi, and he could practically feel the smirk that guy had. The way he held himself oh so confidently, well, Yoshi wouldn’t mind wiping it off his face. If only he hadn’t taken that no-fighting vow to prove a point to- Agh!

“Wait!” He growled out, pulling on the plant-like restraints. “Stop! I will not let you turn these innocent creatures into violent monsters!” 

The strange bubbles of buttery yellow liquid above his head bled green. Toxic green. It reminded him of the foul-smelling chemical slime they used on his movie sets. The liquid fizzed with energy, and when Yoshi blinked next the turtles had more human proportions. He wanted to puke. 

Draxum snickered. Something in Yoshi strained. 

It snapped. 

“I know I said I’d never fight again,” Draxum tuned out his words foolishly, “But…” 

The vines(greengreengreen- gross!) pulled against his flexed arms. The muscle burned with exertion, sending pain shooting through them in sync with his hunger pangs. Damn that Battle Nexus. The leathery vines tore, first fibres one by one, then snapped. 

He was free. 

Momentum launched his torso forward, and he grasped the tendrils blocking his exit. More plants. He grit his teeth and yanked, easily tearing those too. His shoe’s grips locked onto the edge of his container. Draxum began to turn his head. 

“Hot Soup!”

Yoshi launched himself. His body slipped easily into the adrenaline high. His jump arced across half the lab, until his platforms met solid wall. Draxum was agape when Yoshi looked. Good. He should be shocked. Yoshi shot him his own smug look, pushing off the wall with all the might in his battered body. 

He spun, anger thrumming through veins. His knee greeted Draxum’s jaw violently, sending the tall monster flying into his own machine. A breathy laugh escaped Yoshi’s mouth with triumph. 

Said triumphant victory was short-lived when Yoshi saw the green ooze and turtle-mutants bubble into the weird plant tubes, spilling onto the lab floor. Draxum spat something scornful, which rolled off Yoshi’s ego easily. He was winning. He was getting what he wanted. 

Draxum rolled over, claws scraping the ground with an awful screech. Yoshi’s teeth chattered as Draxum straightened up and sprinted. Towards him. 

Have it your way, he thought, his own feet moving to run towards the beast. Draxum’s beefy first sped towards his head. Yoshi sidestepped and retaliated with his own trained punch. More noise filtered in through his focus of punch-dodge-punch. He rolled hard to avoid being squashed flat by Draxum’s fists. They spun, all gnashing teeth and anger. Claws scratched up Yoshi’s jaw. Blood trickled down his neck but he only barked a cocky laugh in response. 

Draxum’s mouth opened, a harsh yell on his tongue, when green lights flickered throughout the lab. They both paused, stunned. Suddenly hissing and grinding assaulted their senses. Yoshi ducked low and staggered away from the light. 

A shockwave passed over him as smoke billowed out of the central pillar. Blasts followed shortly after. 

“What?” Draxum cried out. “No!” 

Debris rained down around the two. A large stone-like piece wedged in the ground inches from Yoshi’s head. His heart stuttered. The turtles! 

“My ooze!” Draxum continued to scream as Yoshi pushed himself upright. His legs burned with exertion but he sprinted to the puddle of green goop where the turtles idly sat, blissfully unaware of the danger. 

“Precious little creatures,” Yoshi’s knee throbbed with pain as he crouched, scooping the tiny reptiles up in his hands. “I will save you, little turtles!” 

There was fire. He didn’t know when, but blue flames had licked up the walls while he’d been distractedly running. Fuck. Sweat rolled down the back of Yoshi’s neck, soaking into his suit alongside the blood dribbling down his front. Other animals around the lab- animals he didn’t even notice in his self-centred wallowing- shrieked and hissed and struggled against their vine cages. A glint of light caught his eye. 

There was a button. A large, red button. Yoshi didn’t need to know what it did, it screamed ‘panic button’ or ‘emergency release’ or something equally important. He adjusted the turtles to press all four against his chest with one arm and slammed the lit up control panel. Another alarm joined the chaos, as they hurriedly spilled out to escape the heat. 

Draxum’s voice continued to echo despite the shrill cacophony. “You idiots! All of you, idiots!” 

Yoshi, with his heart pounding tiredly, didn’t wait for a rematch. He sprinted alongside the variety of weird monster-creatures and was gone before the dust cleared. Draxum roared, noticing his turtles missing. Pipes burst. Various chemicals cascaded down the walls, splattering onto the now empty lab floor. 

He picked up the nearest object and threw it with rage. It smacked a wall, and clattered harmlessly into the toxic-green mutagen spill. 

He lost them. 

Yoshi’s feet ached. The turtles stashed in the makeshift sling he’d found chirped with interest. The innocent things stuck their head out, in awe of every thing that passed that was colourful. Green- He needed to think of better names… Lord above. He’d been hungry, tired, and dumb. Oh so dumb. Why he even went with those gargoyles in the first place, Yoshi didn’t know. Big Mama was awful but at least he could predict her sadism. 

Green looked into Yoshi’s eyes, a silly smile pulling at his face. The red stripes down his cheeks framed his beady little eyes and Yoshi found himself smiling back despite the exhaustion. 

“Silly little one,” He cooed. No one around bothered staring. New York, despite its shortcomings, embraced weirdness. “My little turtles. Funny little boys. I’ll take care of you now, hm? No fighting for you.” 

Green let out a chirping-giggle that sent the other turtles into their own amused chattering. Luckily, they were completely safe. The first thing Yoshi did upon reaching the outside world, and safety from creatures like Big Mama, was set that bite-happy rat on New York. They could deal with the forsaken thing. He had better, more compassionate companions now. 

Yoshi shifted the bundle of bodies in his arms, chuckling as one of them chirped especially loudly. The strange-shelled one cooed back up at him. 

“Yes,” Yoshi made the affectionate noise right back… 

Maybe people were starting to stare a little. He raised his head slowly. 

No one seemed to be around. He hummed, unamused. If he was being stalked by Big Mama or that bastard Draxum, he wouldn’t let them take the turtles. He’d just taken them from a life of child soldier work, and that wasn’t a bold assumption. Yoshi took a deep breath, pulling the sling fabric over the baby reptiles. A couple confused noises soon slipped into quiet breathing. Yoshi slowly recalled his Jiji Sho’s training, and his footsteps fell silent. 

He rubbed at his face tiredly. 

“I need help.” He murmured before turning into an alley to hide himself further. He had maybe 2 coins he’d picked up on his wandering. Not enough to call anyone… Not that his agent would be much help. Yoshi couldn’t act, not with these 4 kids. Mutants or not, they came first for him now. Lou Jitsu was a thing of the past. 

He couldn’t call family. Ever again. He needed help, not a lecture and shamefest. Jiji wouldn’t let him even think about blinking until he’d gone on a week long tirade about Yoshi’s behaviour, and recklessness and all of it. The kidnapping, the fame, the spectacle he put on. How his mother- 

Yoshi scrubbed at his face harder, breaths coming out ragged. 

“Kaa-san,” He whispered, basically only mouthing the words, “What do I do?” 

No one would help him. Hell, he’d been gone for so long all he could hope was to be believed. All his costars would have moved on, his ex-girlfriend literally got him into this mess. He was entirely alone. 

Suddenly calling Jiji wasn’t such a bad idea anymore.

Chapter Text

Lou Jitsu, martial artist, movie star, international bad boy. Easily a multimillionaire years ago. 

And he was begging on the street. 

Yoshi had easily caved to the idea of sitting on the street, keeping the sling closed tightly from nosey eyes, and begging for spare change to ring Jiji Sho. The mutant turtles slept soundly as busloads of people passed by idly. Yoshi nudged his paper cup forward shyly as some people spared glances. He’d picked the least gross one from outside of a cafe, dumped out the last drops of coffee, and hoped for the best. Although maybe people would give him more coins if he looked rougher. 

A woman stopped by and opened her purse cautiously. A single dollar note fell into the cup. Yoshi forced a smile, pretending like that didn’t wound his very essence. His ego may have survived the fight with Draxum, but here he just felt pitiful. Worthless, even. What else was he meant to do, though? 

The turtles stirred in their little cocoon against Yoshi’s chest. He took that as his cue to leave the public eye, gathering the spare change in his cup and walking away from the activity. He sighed. Barely $3 but better than nothing. Did payphones even do international calls? Was he wasting time? 

Yoshi took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder. All clear. He was just being stupid and anxious, of course. His hand gently pulled the top flap of the sling away. The drowsy turtles stirred at the cold air that filtered into their cocoon. 

“Konbanwa,” He teasingly greeted as they yawned and rolled over each other and blinked the sleep from their eyes. One held its arms up, wanting something. Not that Yoshi knew what. 

“One moment, little turtle.” 

Yoshi pocketed his change and looked around. He had about 4 dollars, tops, which he felt should be enough for a short call. He’d just call Sho and ask for help getting back on his feet- That’s all! Jiji was mad, obviously, but Yoshi did feel bad about the things he did. The shallowness of it all… Yeah. Yoshi had some things to say. But first, he needed to get his paperwork together. Then income. Then a safe place for the turtles, out of the public eye. 

Anywhere that wasn’t as exposed and grimy as the city streets. Jiji would understand, probably. Yoshi grimaced. Maybe he wouldn’t understand. 

His feet brought him several blocks as Yoshi mulled over his choice. He could make an international call, tell Jiji he was alive… Which would probably lead to either ridicule or pity. But he needed his paperwork back, Yoshi needed his life. He needed to access his bank or at least find money to rent a place. Forcing the kids to live on the street wasn’t fair. Hell, he could feel his hunger grow worse with every step away from a payphone. 

He had to call someone. If not Jiji, anyone else. 

Except he didn’t have anyone else. Yoshi groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Agh!” 

His subconscious stubbornly resisted to swallow his pride. The idea caught in his throat, and Yoshi wheezed with burning eyes. How had he ended up at this point, he needed to know. If only he’d chosen another path. 

The $4.15 in his pocket burned. Yoshi’s breathing grew ragged for the second time in the past day. The smallest turtle, with the bright spots, made a soft whine and patted the walls of the sling. 

“You’re alright. I’m alright.” He whispered breathlessly. Yoshi gently reached into the cocoon to pet the turtle with two fingers. The poor creature was tiny. How Draxum thought these could become warriors, he didn’t know. Yoshi reached into the pile of coins and crumpled notes in his pocket. “How about we find a snack, hm?” 

A packet of dried fruit and a water bottle later, he wished he’d been braver growing up. 

“Hello?” 

“もしもし?” A voice answered tiredly. 

“Jiji,” Yoshi paused as the pain welled up in his body, “I’m sorry.” 

“…Yoshi?” His grandfather’s voice trembled on the end of the line. 

“Yes, it’s me. I don’t have time, Jiji, I can’t pay for a long call-“ 

“Yoshi, are you alright?” Sho insisted, audibly fumbling with his phone. 

“Yes, Jiji, but I need help. I can explain better if I see you in person?” 

“What do you need, Yoshi?” 

“Can you come to New York?” Yoshi sniffled as his eyes burned, spilling salty tears down his face.” Please, Jiji, I… You were right. This acting thing. It didn’t work out.” 

“That’s ok, you’ve come to your senses. Will I come next week?” 

“I need you here as soon as you can, I… I got kicked out. I’m on the street, Jiji.” With the words spoken aloud, the reality set in. Yoshi held the turtle sling close as he sobbed directly into the receiver. “Please help me.” 

“I’ll buy a ticket at the gate. Hold on, Yoshi. Go wait by the airport, find a bus stop. I will be there every night if you get sidetracked.” 

“Yes- Yes, I promise I will be!” Yoshi’s eyes darted back to the coin slot. “It’s going to cut out soon.” 

“I’m proud that you finally contacted me. Those movie stars are not good for you. Hardly any are good people.” 

“I know that now, Jiji.” 

“You’ve grown up. I’ll see you soon.” The call ended with a click, and a small light insisting that Yoshi pay more money he didn’t have. The last few cents in his pocket wouldn’t be enough… He would have to beg again before going to the airport, if not for his own food then for the helpless turtles. 

“You don’t deserve this.” He whispered into the cluster of green bodies and shuffling limbs. The red-striped turtle babbled back idly. “Well, if I didn’t save you then who else would have?” 

The turtle continued babbling. It flexed its hands curiously, smacking them against all of his siblings. Yoshi chuckled despite his anguish. 

“You need something, don’t you little one? Silly me.” Yoshi rummaged around his dirtied jumpsuit. There was barely any of the dried fruit mix left, but he was fine with it. The turtles ate. He ate a bit. In a morbid twist of luck, his hunger strike probably saved him some trouble on the surface. His body was already mid-adjustment to starvation. He gave the rest of the raisins to the turtles. 

Chapter Text

The bus stop was surprisingly calm, considering how much of a hub JFK Airport was. He remembered vaguely where International arrivals were, and muscle memory alone kept him wandering familiar areas for a bus stop to rest at. The long walks, with quick hops on buses where Yoshi could afford it, had brought him several hours closer to Sho’s arrival. He’d have to wait less than a day, he figured. 

Yoshi slipped behind the bus stop. The glass was clear enough but fogged, the bus stop’s roof bathing it in the shade. It was early morning. The only people alert enough to question why he was here and acting weird would be security. Yoshi may be weak and starving, but by God he could still bluff. 

Besides, he wasn’t doing anything wrong. It wasn’t illegal to be excessively early to wait for someone. A beloved relative. Yoshi won’t even have to lie about it. 

There were fewer eyes on him here, with everyone too concerned about their flights. Or the taxis and buses to get to hotels from said flights. He managed to find some more quarters, and started hunting for a vending machine. Jiji said night time. He might have meant he’d be landing late. 

“Can I help you?” A burly man in uniform asked loudly as Yoshi hesitantly approached the terminal. 

“Yes!” Yoshi forced himself to grin. “Actually, yes. I’m hungry and looking for a vending machine. Can you point me to the nearest one?” 

“…Over there,” The guard took a moment to compose themselves. Yoshi hadn’t missed their confusion. Expecting a demure, backtracking reaction from Hamato Yoshi? Not in this era. 

“Thank you, have a good day!” Yoshi barked out the loudest, most confident laugh he could muster. Then subtly sped-walked away from the security officer. The turtles stirred in the sling, one of their bony elbows pressing into Yoshi’s sternum. Adorable little things. Adorable, but painful. “Careful, little turtles.” 

He gently peeled back their fabric roof. The snapping turtle yawned, wide and showing off gums. Yoshi frowned. Didn’t turtles have beaks? Surely… Draxum had said he was mutating the turtles with Yoshi’s DNA. Yes. Judging by how the turtles were sitting like humans, not on all 4s. 

Oh Lord. 

They were turtle babies. Half actual baby. Human baby. Yoshi had 4 kids, now?!

Well. He didn’t have time to have a crisis about that. The security guard was still watching him like a hawk- Probably. Actually Yoshi could feel the eyes on his back. Some sort of instinct told him so. 

He rummaged in his pockets for change. It was astronomically expensive for a vending machine. It made Yoshi wanted to scream. His ruse to look around the Arrivals building was costing him all of their money. 

He slotted a crumpled bill into the machine and punched in the code for another overpriced snack. One of those nutty protein bars, with a layer of caramel. Because everything has sugar now. Lord, he needs to watch out for that sort of thing now. You’re not supposed to feed kids too many sweets. They need actual nutrients to grow and- 

They’re gonna grow. 

Oh, Yoshi’s head spun. These were turtle-human mutants… He didn’t know how he was supposed to do this- whatever this was- long term. Would the kids be more human than turtle? Would they talk one day? 

Yoshi wiped the sheen of sweat from his face and snatched the protein bar. The uncomfortable fabric of scavenged clothes rubbed his skin the wrong ways. His ‘show’ suit needed a wash. He smelled the streets on himself and nearly gagged. 

“Sir?” Yoshi ignored the security guard calling after him. His feet carried him past the bus stop, until he reached the shade of the car park. His hands shook as he crumpled the plastic wrapper of the snack. The sound made his teeth chatter. A soft trill from the sling brought him somewhat back to his senses. A gold-splattered hand slipped out of the cocoon. 

“Ah,” He shakily laughed, “You know what that noise means now, mh?” 

The turtle blinked back innocently. Yoshi’s trembling hands tore the wrapper off and broke a piece of food off. The other turtles stirred at the orange one’s happy noises and flapping hands. The largest turtle soon clumsily emerged. Yoshi fumbled to unfold the sling into more of a hammock so none fell. 

Oh, what if they got hurt? Yoshi didn’t know how to help a hurt person, let alone turtle-people. If they grow to be people. Oh Christ. He swallowed bile. A webbed hand pawed at his white-knuckled fist. 

“Green,” Yoshi chuckled again softly, “Yes. You’re hungry too?” 

The protein bar crumbled easily in the palm of his hand. Yoshi scattered the food over the lilac fabric and watched as the turtles descended on it. He had no idea if this food was even good for them- Protein was for growing children. He was repeatedly told that much by family growing up. He had to be doing something right? The caramel and biscuit layers less so. 

This is what he’d become? A worried runaway, concerned over caramel and biscuits and mutant child nutrition? If this wasn’t his reality, Yoshi could laugh. Who could make something this ridiculous up? Lou Jitsu. Lou fucking Jitsu in a parking lot, panicking over a protein bar. That’s- He couldn’t rationalise it. Jiji wouldn’t even recognise the mess of a man crouched in a parking lot, wearing a sweater with God only knew what stains. This was exactly the scenario Jiji had recited to try putting him off showbiz- Becoming a reject, sitting on street corners and going mad. 

“Kore wa hontou ni warui, ne?” He ran a hand over the turtle’s shells one by one. They trilled softly, arching into his warm hand. Another thing Yoshi hadn’t thought of. Warmth. Crap. Turtles were reptiles, they were probably hanging on by threads at night time. Yoshi gnawed on his lip. They needed shelter, ASAP. “Jiji, onegai..” 

Night fell with more chill than expected. Yoshi paced the bus stop nonstop after sundown. The turtles were safely tucked beneath his hoodie, now that he finally remembered they needed more heat than him. From him. 

There were just as much people as before, though. Yoshi felt shame burn his neck every time people noticed his anxiety. He needed his grandfather. He needed help. 

A hand on his shoulder started him out of his trance. “Sir?” 

“Hey-“ Yoshi whipped around so fast he almost dropped the turtles, “Hands off, please!” 

“Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.” It was a different guard to before. Disgust was smeared across their expression. 

“…What? No, I’m waiting for my grandfather. I’m not doing anything wrong!” 

“You’re causing a scene.” They sneered. Yoshi swallowed his anger. 

“Please. I’ll be gone by morning, I just need to meet my relative. Then I’ll be out of your hair forever, yes?” 

“No, unfortunately. We’ve received complaints.” 

“Look, I promise I can explain. It’s not like I’m on drugs, or something. You can test me, I’m sober! I just…” 

“Sir,” 

“No no, let me finish!” Yoshi pinched the bridge of his nose, “Everything has been really bad for me recently. I look awful, yes, but I need help. I’m waiting here for help from my relative. It’s as simple as that, mister security guard.”

“Well then what flight is your relative on?” The guard pressed. Yoshi mentally screamed. 

“I don’t… Have a mobile phone. I called on a payphone- But!” He took a step back as the guard shifted, “But, he’s coming from Japan. My Ji- My grandfather bought a ticket at the gate, he wasn’t able to tell me any flight numbers beforehand- He’s… He’ll be here before morning, I know it!” 

“Sir I can’t accept that vague of an explanation. For the safety of other travellers, you have to leave.” 

“No, you can’t do this. I’m not causing trouble I’m just waiting here!” 

“You have to go.” 

“Please!” 

The guard took a deliberate step forward. Yoshi’s mouth moved on autopilot, words streaming so fast there wasn’t a pause for him to sob. “My name is Hamato Yoshi, my Jiji promised to wait at this bus stop for me at night! He’s a short old Japanese man, Hamato Sho, and he’s looking for his grandson! That’s me- You have to tell him you forced me to go. I’ll- I’ll wait at- Stop crowding me, please! I’ll wait at the, uh, the Baisley Pond Park! Tell him that! Tell anyone you change shifts with, please, I’m not lying!” 

Hands gripped his shoulders and marched him away. “You have to tell Hamato Sho I’ll wait for him at Baisley Park! I’m ok! His grandson is still alive!” 

Hot tears streamed down his face as a second pair of hands gripped his frail body and dragged him further away. “I’m not causing trouble…” 

“Of course you fucking were. Look at you.” One of the men growled. 

“Have you showered yet this year? Disgusting. It’s like you live in a sewer.” 

“I’m innocent.” 

He was innocent. 

He was forcibly dropped by the side of the road. Luckily, the turtles were tied tightly to his chest. They stirred, but otherwise remained calm. Yoshi pulled his knees close and sat in silence. 

He was innocent. 

The guards walked away, laughing boisterously. But he was innocent. He wasn’t clean, or very dignified, but he hadn’t done anything. 

He wanted his mom. 

Kaa-san wasn’t coming. Shakily, Yoshi gripped his knees and gathered the strength to stand. Baisley Pond Park. He’d only been once before for an improv photoshoot. Back when he had the time and carefree attitude to do those things. It was big, much bigger than the bus stop. Security shouldn’t force him out of there. 

Yoshi staggered as he hobbled away from the concrete complex of JFK. His legs struggled to hold him. Yoshi’s heart pounded, aching with each beat. Rubbing at his face, he paused by the road. Unlike before, he had to be actually careful in life. He had 4 more lives to protect instead of his own. Yoshi rubbed the knuckles of his hands together anxiously. The turtles were so small. If something happened to them, he didn’t know if he could take it. They were his only company for now.

His feet ached even more. All he wanted to do was lay on some grass and let the Earth reclaim him. But the turtles needed a caretaker. For their sake, he had to hold on for Sho. A hot meal would be nice, too. Yoshi would settle for some warm, plain broth right about then. The bottom of his feet felt raw. His muscles burned. Painful heat raced up his body in waves. 

Get to the park. 

He was innocent. This wasn’t fair.  

Yoshi crossed the road, arms crossed securely over his chest. The park was a decent walk, but he travelled further to get to JFK in the first place. If he just followed the expressway until he spotted buildings, it should be fine. He tilted his head back to look at the blank sky. The cold air did little to soothe his throat, dry and strained from panicked ranting. 

He hadn’t slept more than about 4 hours since escaping Draxum and the Hidden City. Lightly dozing in a public place was hardly comforting. Every time the shadows shifted, he was back on high alert. Exhaustion pulled him under for a select few minutes, but only a few. Yoshi wanted to believe he was protective of the little turtle children, but his selfish mind didn’t want to be snatched back to the Battle Nexus. Selfish of him. His first thoughts were always that Big Mama’s bellhops were around the corner. Not that Draxum or his obnoxious henchmen were coming for their… 

Yoshi scowled, refusing to think of the dehumanising things Draxum would call the turtles. 

Was he much better? Yoshi paused. He hadn’t even given the little ones names, yet. He should, but he could barely remember his own. The stress and sleep deprivation made everything foggy. 

The pressure of these creatures possibly being able to say the names didn’t help either. 

Chapter Text

The freeways were busy enough, but nothing compared to the morning rushes. Yoshi severely doubted he could have crossed them at that time, especially since people are so depraved they would report him for simply being there. 

His terror and dismay morphed into frustrated anger. Yoshi gently rubbed the bundle of turtles strapped to his torso to stave off the rage. They would survive this. Yoshi hadn’t endured the Battle Nexus and Big Mama’s whims for… A whole decade, it seemed. He didn’t do all that work and endurance to fold to the human realm.

Cruelty be damned, he had made it too far to quit.

The noises of car engines faded behind him as Yoshi left the freeway. His legs shook under him. His stomach tied itself in knots. On top of all of that, his eyes throbbed with the want to sleep; To close his eyes and rest. Yoshi had responsibilities that came first. 

He had work to do today. The turtles needed to eat, and so did he. He’d get their leftover scraps and sneak back to the bus stop. It wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration to assert that their lives depended on it. He would meet Jiji at the stop, they would get supplies, and things would be better. So much better. The fantasy of a hot shower and bed crossed his mind. What he wouldn’t do for some security- The comfort would come later when everything else was satisfied. He needed a damn toothbrush first. If he’d learned anything from the Battle Nexus, comfort was a luxury. It could wait. 

His needs would wait. 

The Baisley Pond park was huge. Vast, even. And seeing how it was easily 3am or later, Yoshi felt comfortable walking inside like he owned the place. The grass was dew-soaked, and the water leached heat from his ankles. The bottom of his suit was utterly ruined with watery dirt. Yoshi just had to hold on until Jiji made it. He was trained to be a ninja, he can sneak back to the bus stop easily. He only had to focus.

Yoshi wandered under the minimal light until he found a gazebo. A roof. It helped there were railings that might deter any wind, as well. 

“Tomorrow,” He murmured as the turtles shuffled and clamoured to get more heat. He cradled them in his arms, wrapped up in the snug blanket still tied behind his shoulders. “Tomorrow I will find Jiji and your real life will begin.”

They clicked and trilled up at him curiously. Yoshi laughed, despite the tears in the corner of his eyes. “Adorable little ones. I promise, I have you now. You’re safe with me.” 

They must be hungry again. Yoshi was by no means an expert on babies- He’d never wanted one. Never wanted another Hamato in this world, for their sake. But he knew children needed to eat several times a day, more than a grown person. He didn’t know much about science either, but for mutated turtles who needed to adjust to strange and nature-defying bodies? It wasn’t a bold assumption. He glanced around as his feet carried him on autopilot. Yoshi saw the blurry neon sign of a Dunkin Donuts. 

These children were so well nourished, weren’t they? 

With a sigh he changed his course. Shaky legs propped him up in the gazebo, and he staggered to the park’s outskirts. Yoshi wandered around the dim buildings to find the Dunkin’s assigned trash pile. There had to be something salvageable in there. After leaving the airport’s main freeway, he’d seen next to no cars on the road. It was probably 4am for sure by this point. No one would be working to see him steal. And if CCTV caught him, no harm.

Legally he was probably dead. Wow. Wasn’t that a thought? He didn’t exist anymore, according to other people. He laughed dryly, breath fogging up the night air. People probably remembered his Lou Jitsu persona as some has-been, or maybe they wondered why he disappeared so suddenly in his prime? It wasn’t self absorbed to want to know other people’s thoughts on him- On his past self. 

Yoshi carefully skirted around lampposts and parked cars. His hands recoiled against his will as he lifted the trash’s lid, hesitating. There was food, if he had the stomach to find it. The smell of other, non-food, waste hit him and his nose scrunched up. 

He couldn’t feed this trash to the kids. 

What was he thinking? 

Yoshi balanced on his tiptoes and tore into the softest feeling bag. Un-iced donuts, nothing more than fried dough, spilled out the side carelessly. Yoshi reached in and grabbed handfuls, stuffing them down his shirt with shame. He took a bite out of one. They were only a little stale. 

Still, it was a conflicting decision. Let the boys eat… Salvageable trash. Or don’t give them food, to limit the risk of sickness. Even though the food was perfectly fine and he was eating it. It’s not… Yoshi wasn’t starving them. 

“What am I doing?” He murmured, digging deeper through the trash. Food, then sleep. Then rinse and repeat until he could find Jiji. The would endure this, this was practically a blip compared to what Big Mama did to him. Scavenging for food was shameful. That was undeniable. But it was preferable, at least for Yoshi, than being paraded around like some wild animal in a fighting ring. He’d been treated with something a rung below bare decency. 

He sighed, breath turning to thick mist in front of his face. He took another bite of plain donut, his face scrunching with mild disgust. It tasted fine. It tasted like a reminder of his failure. He scoffed down 3 plain donuts before tiredly packing more into the hoodie’s front, separate from the turtles’ grubby sling. Yoshi blinked drowsily. He wasn’t sure when exactly he slept last, maybe he caught 15 minutes as he took a rest after running from the lab? He vaguely recalled stopping in the depths of a mystic forest for his legs to stop shaking, letting his body rest against a thick tree stump. Then startling at the sound of strange birds an unknown amount of time later. 

Yoshi probably needed sleep. 

He grumbled out a displeased noise at his complete forgetfulness. He’d made his main priority to survive, but here he was forgetting a major step. Sleep could usually be postponed, but Yoshi finally knew why his eyes were so dry and could smack himself in the face for it. What use was he if he dropped with exhaustion? How many hours was it. He frowned, feeling it tug at the taut skin of his starved face. Maybe… He slept a little while before the gargoyles came knocking. Then the lab… That took a while. Then the few minutes of sleep in the forest, then wandering to an exit to the human world, followed by a day and a half in New York? Maybe? 

Maths wasn’t something Yoshi had particularly cared for, least of all when it came to time and it’s dumb rules. Even fully rested it wasn’t a strong suit. 

He took this as the signal to leave the Dunkin, crossing the road and sneaking back into the park. A crack of daylight began to sneak over the rooftops outside Baisley Park. The gazebo called him like an enchanting siren, and he found the wood more comfortable than anticipated. Yoshi lay stone-still on his back, so as to not squish the baby turtles, and closed his eyes. 

Sho stood silently at the bus stop. It was his second night here, standing in the cold November air. He’d layered many socks and spare clothing under his hakama and coat.

One hand clutched a department store carrier bag with thermal socks and comfortable pants. Sho knew Yoshi would be cold, even if he didn’t admit it on the phone. He loved his grandson dearly but he lacked the common sense most other people developed by that age. Namely to wrap up warm in New York winter. Although he didn’t entirely blame him this time around, it didn’t sound like a very convenient time for Yoshi to layer up before being suddenly evicted. 

Tochigi prefecture could get reasonably cold, too, but at least Sho was comfortable with navigating his home country. He clutched the bag tighter in his freezing hand. He loved his grandson dearly but he was a fool. 

“Is everything alright sir?” A staff member approached him uneasily. Sho looked up at the broad-shouldered man and frowned. 

“I’m waiting for family.” He waved off the guard tiredly. “I don’t suppose there’s a coffee shop nearby?”

“Ah- Not in the immediate area, no.” 

“Then that will be all.” Sho gave the guard a withering look as the man began to retreat, muttering into a walkie talkie with displeasure. He could live with irritating one ignorant man. His grandson- No, more akin to a real son- would come. And when he did, Sho wouldn’t leave. He only wished Yoshi came to his senses under less dire circumstances.

Dire. Sho dreaded the thought. He had no experience with homelessness, thankfully, but he could picture it. Illness from lack of hygiene. Starvation. Ostracism… Sho tried not to think about it, instead humming and settling in to wait until the sun rose again over JFK Airport.

Unfortunately his age made him more prone to exhaustion. Sho had layered up a bit too well, as suddenly the plastic wrapped clothes under his feet and the uncomfortable bench under him felt nice. Nice. He would laugh if he wasn’t so sleepy. Or angry at himself. Laugh at the gall of his body trying to drift off when his son could show up at any moment in need. 

Yoshi, he wondered in the privacy of his mind, what the Hell is taking you so long? 

あなたは一人じゃない

Yoshi startled awake. He blinked up at the wooden roof of the gazebo. Sho. At the bus stop, although reluctantly… He groaned and threw a hand over his face. A dream. A stupid dream! Of course his body would choose to imagine rejection now and throw him off his game. 

The turtles stirred at the movement. He heard a noise closer to a babble than a chirp at his chin. The face of the smallest turtle peaked out of his baggy hoodie. Yoshi forced a weak smile. “Hello, did I wake you?” 

The turtle let out a happy gurgle, patting the fabric of his old suit. Man. He couldn’t wait to get normal clothes when Sho… Yoshi frowned. Was this such a good idea after all? Sure it was a stupid dream but it had been so real in the beginning. The only unrealistic part he could think of is that Sho wouldn’t scold him in public, right? Everything he said was something he could picture Sho saying… 

“Come on. You’re not 3 anymore. Stop crying.” 

Yoshi rubbed one hand over the other’s knuckles. His skin was so dry it began to crack in places. He needed that shower badly. Or maybe some simple moisturiser… Which he would try and sneak into some Sephora to snag a free sample of, except they’d never. Not in his sorry state. Forget security, which he already knew was so on-his-ass their foul breath warmed his neck. Maybe a smaller, less pricy pharmacy would look the other way for him. 

Yoshi pulled the neck of his hoodie up to sniff it and suppressed a gag. No-go on that idea. “Poor boys. I’ll get you baths soon.” 

He secured one frail arm under the weight of the turtles and pushed himself up tiredly. Night. He’d dozed all dat and it was night again, shit! Yoshi ignored the sound of rain beating the roof of the gazebo to gather up his one plastic bag of rations. He threw it over his shoulder, held steady by the arm protecting the turtles. His other arm cradled the four small bodies like a singular, normal-sized neonate. Yoshi sprinted. 

The walk to Baisley Pond Park was a couple hours. Judging by the lack of people, it was another early morning. 3 or 4am. Sho would leave soon. He needed Sho. He needed his grandfather like these boys needed real shelter, not just a scrawny has-been in clothes more grease than fabric. 

His spindly legs splashed the deepening puddles as he sprinted past the sparse shops, running through abandoned roads and flickering neon signs. Rainwater crept up his already ruined pant legs. The water’s cold bit into his sallow skin. 

Every step thundered through his body. The impacts hurt. The soles of his feet hurt. He hurt. One turtle let out a frightened keen as Yoshi sharply turned a corner, skidding on wet concrete clumsily. 

“I’m sorry, I need to get to Sho.” He cooed breathlessly. Run, he ordered his starved form, run faster. “We’ll pamper you soon little ones.” 

His knee threatened to buckle as he leapt a barrier with little thought. Yoshi’s heart pounded- too fast. Stuttered. 

‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long. I’m sorry I forgot where I came from. You were suffering too, Jiji. I was stupid. You couldn’t lose another child, could you? How could I have hurt you like that?’  

Yoshi stumbled again, staggering as he hobbled across the freeway. More chirping began to alert him to the turtles’ distress. He swallowed a noise between a cough and a cry. Keep moving. Keep running. He skidded again. Cars honked. He clumsily flipped them off, all the while gritting his teeth. So tense. So, so tense he was scared they’d crack. That his body would shatter under him- Splinter, tearing about fibre by fibre. 

He needed his family. The only member of the Hamato family left. 

Yoshi’s feet pounded on the concrete in time with the throbbing in his brain. A familiar blur he vaguely remembered as the path from yesterday passed. Some bystander almost got knocked over. Breathless, he didn’t spare a look or an apology. Every bone ground together under the stress. 

Keep going. The small warbles and concerned chitters did not deter him. Keep going. Find Sho. Find safety. 

Garbled voices passed him by. Yoshi sprinted. The final stretch, hopefully, he could see the bus stop. The fogged glass, obscured with graffiti. Worn pavement and road markings. A huddle of people, even in the early hours of the morning. What day was it? What year was it? He didn’t need to know. Yoshi didn’t need anything but confirmation he was still wanted; Still loved. 

He sped towards the confused passengers. Sho. Sho. Sho. He needed his grandfather.

一人じゃない

A short figure burst from the group, abandoning the bags still clinging to his stout body. Plastic-wrapped civvies spilled onto the sidewalk as Sho briskly walked to meet his grandson halfway. Yoshi skidded on his abused knees, wordlessly collapsing into his grandfather’s arms. His shoulders shook with dry sobs. No noise escape his clogged throat. 

“I’ve got you, Yoshi.” Yoshi. Not Lou Jitsu, or any of the ridiculous things Mama called him behind closed doors. Yoshi buried his face in Sho’s shoulders and held him like a lifeline. His grandfather didn’t recoil at the smell. Didn’t berate him for being clingy or embarrassing. He hugged back, albeit half the strength. “I’ve got you.” 

Yoshi held his grandfather tighter. He refused to let go and lose anyone again. If this was just a dream, and Jiji would dissolve into mist the second he let go, let him have the longest moment of his life first. Let him burn the scent of Jiji’s cologne into his mind. The texture of his clothes. The wheeze that preceded his gentle laugh.

“You’re alright, Yoshi.” Sho reassured as he pet the greasy hair at the back of his son’s neck. The oily locks parted under his deft fingers, one hand working out tangles as the other rubbed circles in his upper back. Yoshi held on for dear life. 

“Yoshi?” His grandfathers voice came over the war drum of a heartbeat in his ears. “Yoshi, you’re squeezing me a bit.”

“I never wanna go anywhere again.” He bit out stubbornly. 

“Well we need to,” Sho said lightly. With ease. Go? Where was there to go, with everything he’d needed since the kidnapping right here? “I booked a hotel room. We can clean up there?”

“Is it those bastard security guys staring?”

“Yoshi!” Sho’s hand paused on his back as they finally drew apart to look at each other: Sho, mildly scandalised, and Yoshi with a flat stare.

“It’s them, right?”

“It is, but I did not raise you to be so blatantly rude.”

“They threw me out before, I would’ve been here waiting for you. If not for them.” He said darkly. 

“Let’s get away from them then, yes? I’ll get a cab to the hotel and we can relax. Are you hungry?”

Every cell in Yoshi’s body begged for food. Nutrients, sugar, sustenance. His stomach growled louder than his racing heart. But Yoshi faltered. “I… Guess.”

“That’s the spirit.” That was not at all the spirit, but Yoshi didn’t resist when Sho pulled all the way away to collect his bags with a soft smile. A hint of something else made itself known in his eyes. Pity.

Well, Yoshi knew he did look pitiful. He should’ve expected this.

“There’s a better place to hail over there,” Yoshi tuned out the noise and muttering as his short grandfather pulled him through the scattered group of people, past the security guards who mocked him, and away from the cursed bus stop.

Chapter Text

The taxi driver must have been a saint in disguise, to not comment on the clearly dishevelled and homeless man dragged into his car. He simply addressed Sho and asked where to go. Well. Not a saint, just usual New York discretion.

The facts of real life were trickling back into Yoshi’s mind the longer he stayed away from the cursed Battle Nexus. He remembered that credit cards existed, and he was supposed to have one but obviously Big Mama took everything from him. His beloved car’s keys were lost to time, either sold because everything came back to her benefit, or melted down for whatever Yōkai society could need with a set of stupid car keys.

Yoshi’s license. Not that any of it mattered, but he slumped in the taxi seat with a suppressed sigh. Try not to think too hard, he told himself. Chirp chirp, responded the baby turtles in his shirt. Sho gave him a suspicious look, but he simply held up one finger. Wait. He will explain everything later when they have some damn privacy. Not like Yoshi knew how to explain Yokai, genetic experimentation and human-turtle babies that were hidden under his hoodie. Oh. Man, Jiji was going to flip when he got down to the finer details of the whole disaster. 

He needed a coffee, even though it’s been so long he couldn’t recall the bitter taste. He knew it was bitter, and he spit out the watery espresso the first time it was handed to him at the ripe old age of 15. He knew it tasted like liquid crap, at least to him, but Yoshi needed energy. The bundle of turtles squirmed against his chest, a spine scraping against his sternum through the fabric. 

“Can we get coffee?” Yoshi cringed at the sharp rasp of his own voice as it left his dry throat. “Or even water?” 

“The hotel is close. I promise.” Sho answered. A look crossed his face. Yoshi couldn’t put a name to it this time. Not pity, something deeper. 

Yoshi hummed out a faint ‘alright’ and turned to glance out of the window. Buildings with dozens of stories loomed over them. The heads of crowds obscured the lowest windows as droves of people ambled around. Careless. Yoshi had been one of the crowds once, obsessed with shallow material things. Parties and expensive things like designer clothes, colognes and the newest CD player for his apartment. Then a few personal trainers for good measure. Alcohol. Expensive cars. The idea of being so materialistic filled him with shame. 

Now that he knew how shit things could get, he wished he’d never even lorded his expensive things over people. They were just things. Yoshi may have not been rich growing up in Japan, but he’d never struggled. He’d never counted down the hours until his next meal to settle the ache in his belly; The tremors of his hands. He’d never worried about having to wear the same thing for weeks on end with no showers. 

How naïve.

The hotel room was blessedly quiet, with thick lacy blinds to block any nosy spectators. It was a little old fashioned, but then it did feel like the entire floor was decorated with heavy carpets and vintage furniture in mind. Sho waved a bowl in front of Yoshi’s face. “You should have told me you ate only scraps this week! If you eat solid food now you’ll be sick.”

“I know, Jiji.” Yoshi sat cross legged on the floor, tattered hoodie still concealing the turtles. “Can I… We need to talk, first.”

“You’re right. We do.”

“Not about me. Well, a little about me. Something happened to me and I can’t explain it all right now, I’m so tired. But I’m not alone.”

“A woman?” Sho raised an eyebrow as Yoshi nearly dropped the miso. 

“No- No, I wish!” He laughed nervously. “Well maybe technically… When I was away- You’re not going to believe this Jiji.” 

Sho cleared his throat as Yoshi scrubbed his face anxiously. “I can’t believe anything if you do not tell me.”

Yoshi sighed and reached to pull the grimy hoodie off of his body. The purple sling strapped firmly to his chest made Sho splutter. Before he could shout about a human baby, Yoshi bowed his head and opened the cocoon to show the four turtles. 

“…Turtles?”

“Look at them closer.”

“Why are they sitting like that?…Are they sick?”

“They’re mutants. A man, well, kidnapped me. They have my DNA.” 

“You were kidnapped?!” Sho spluttered. Yoshi shook his head, exhausted, and buried his head in his hands. 

“Jijiii, let me finish. You don’t even have questions about the turtles?” 

“Well-“

“They’re mutants, Jiji. You don’t care about that?” 

“Well, I do but you… Fine. Human-turtle hybrids?” Sho narrowed his eyes with a grimace. “They should definitely be sick. That’s not right.” 

“They’re not. I don’t know how, but they’re healthy babies and,” Yoshi sighed and reached into the pile of turtles to gently pull out the largest one. He carefully pried the turtle’s jaw open to show the eerily human gums. “I think they’re going to have human traits.” 

“Oh,” Sho paused for a long moment. Yoshi winced at the sudden invasive silence, “We’ll manage, Yoshi.”

“We will?”

“I raised your mother. I raised you. I can probably raise them, depending on how turtle they are.”

“I think they need a heat lamp. Better food too, probably… I don’t know much about turtles.” Yoshi suppressed a flinch as his grandfather reached into the pile of turtles and gently lifted out the largest. 

“This is a snapper, if I remember correctly. Let’s get them some fruit, yes?” Sho reached for the phone. Room service. Right, that was a normal thing for people, because they weren’t trapped in these rooms. Yoshi’s mouth watered, wanting to just down the broth like he’d never have food again. That wasn’t true. That was the opposite of true. “I’ll get some watermelon and apple slices. Do you think you could stomach the rest of a fruit salad?”

“Probably.” Yoshi shrugged. “I didn’t throw up the donuts I found.”

“Found?” Sho spluttered. “Yoshi, you did not eat food you found on the ground!”

“It wasn’t on the ground!” He protested, holding back the rest of the facts. Sho would go into a frenzy if he knew his grandson ate trash.

“Goodness, you were in a situation like no other.” It was probably meant to be wistful but it came out condescending. Yoshi frowned. 

“Let’s just get the boys out of the sling. They must think it’s their whole life with how long I kept them in there.” He muttered, gently lifting out the orange spotted turtle, then the one with red markings, and finally the softshell. Sho put down the phone receiver, wisely placing the order before worrying about the turtles themselves. 

“Wow. That’s quite a mix of species.”

“Yeah.” 

Memories of Draxum’s monologue crept in. Unparalleled warriors, covering all bases, using his DNA to become the best of the best. Fighters without opposition. Yoshi blinked at the turtles, crawling on all fours with uneven limbs…

They had human proportions.

Sho’s eyes watched him warily as Yoshi moved from sitting on he bed to laying belly-first on the floor. He imitated the high-pitched chirps of the red, striped turtle, who then perked up. He clumsily moved his chubby limbs, pulling himself across the carpet to Yoshi, who chirped again. The turtle chirped back with a noise comparable to a giggle.

“They’re very human like.” Sho murmured as the orange one sat back, legs splayed to balance his large shell, flexing his hands at the old man. Like he wanted to be picked up. “Do you think the they’re still cold blooded?”

“How should I know? I’m not a turtle expert.” Yoshi forced back a scowl. The striped turtle shuffled forward again to press his head to Yoshi’s nose. “…They feel cold.” 

Sho set the snapper beside him and moved to pick up the box turtle. “Yes, they do indeed.” 

“They need a bath.”

“So do you, Yoshi.”

“In a minute. I feel like I’ve been run over, Jiji.” 

“Fine. I will give the turtles a wash first, while we wait.” Sho smiled as he scooped up the two turtles nearest to him. Yoshi tore his eyes away from the slider to look for the softshell. 

Said softshell had decided to sleep by the TV unit, near a plug socket, and didn’t that just make Yoshi’s heart race. Luckily the turtle was more interested in the carpet, warmed by the rising sun, than the actual hazard only inches away.He quickly pushed his body back to a kneeling position and scooped up the softshell, who hissed lazily. Yoshi picked up the final turtle and handed them over to Sho. A nervous laugh bubbled out of his throat. “It hasn’t been a week, and I’m already anxious.” 

“Yes, Yoshi. Children do that.” Sho smiled as he turned for the bathroom. 

“How am I going to cope, Jiji?” He whined. His grandfather smiled knowingly. 

“You childproof every thing in the house, forfeit sleep, and never take your eyes off of them.” Sho joked as he used his body to wedge open the bathroom door. “Now, either you will be productive and rest before your own shower, or you will help me with these turtles.” 

Yoshi gave Sho a withering look. “I miss when you were concerned for my health.” 

“Yoshi!” Sho barked, nearly scandalised, “How dare you imply that. At your age, you cannot hold a towel and help me with these turtles? I’m three times your age.” 

He balked, taken aback by the outburst. Yoshi didn’t seriously think his Jiji was mad at him, but his tone of voice… Until Sho broke out into boisterous laughter and shook his head. “I was kidding. You’re not actually in so much pain, are you?” 

“No, Jiji.” He answered back, stretching lazily. His body ached, but compared to the last few months this was tamer than ever. “Just need more sleep. I think. I dozed off in a park…” 

Sho hummed. Yoshi caught his concerned frown in the reflection of the doorknob. “I will find you some medicine. Come, sit.” 

With a muted ‘thunk’, Sho closed the toilet lid and gestured his grandson over. He lay a towel on Yoshi’s lap, then the four turtles. 

“I’m going to find a nice temperature. Fill it up only a couple inches, we don’t need much. They’re tiny things...” The tap’s handle squeaked as he turned it, letting cold water gush from the faucet. Yoshi stared at the creatures in his lap. One, the little orange spotted one, latched onto his hand. Yoshi bounced the finger he was clutching onto gently. The turtle chirped with wide eyes, wobbling on scaly legs. 

Suddenly, Sho chuckled, and Yoshi’s head shot up to meet his eyes. Sho, under the warm glow of old lightbulbs, sleeves rolled up, hand dripping with slowly warming water. Yoshi swallowed a lump in his throat. He was 5 years old and 32 and back in their house in Japan. Sho shook water droplets from his hand and reached for the bath plug. “There’s two toothbrushes here because it’s a room with two beds, but I brought my own. You can use one but I think they might like the bristles on their shells, I’ve seen a few videos. The nice girl who comes to my dojo showed me one time, they like scratching or pressure. Did you ever see the video of a turtle under a running tap…” 

Yoshi tuned out the words, still gently bouncing the box turtle as the others dozed or looked around curiously. Right. All this time, he was wallowing in pity. Sho had had to rebuild his life, no grandson, no daughter. Alone, when he had done nothing but raise Yoshi to be a member of their clan. Family. 

“I really missed you, Jiji.” Yoshi said quietly. Sho looked back over his shoulder. His face fell steadily. 

“I missed you too, Yoshi.” Sho answered back solemnly. “You need to rest.” 

“I’m fine where I am.” Yoshi murmured. The turtle’s grip tightened on his bony hand. He chirped, brown eyes wide and lively. Yoshi sighed with a smile and pet his head. “Cute little thing…” 

“There.” Sho announced. Bath drain plugged, warm water pooling in the ceramic, Sho produced the toothbrush and some gentle soap. 

“You want the biggest one first? He’s getting restless.” 

“Sure.” Sho gently slid his hands into the turtle piles and drew out the large, spiny mutant. He snapped his jaw lazily. Sho held him by the wide, domed shell and lowered him into the lukewarm water. 

“We could just put them all in and see how they do?” Yoshi shrugged. 

“Maybe. I think box turtles are land-based, though. Maybe we wash him last.” 

Yoshi hummed, narrowing his eyes down at the smallest turtle. “Are you sure, Jiji?”

Sho reached over and took the ‘hand’ of the turtle mutant, spreading the digits out. No webbing. Yoshi blinked, surprised. “Huh. Uh, alright… Give me a wet brush I can scrub him here while the others bathe.”

 Sho swirled the brush in the bathwater and lathered soap onto it. “He has such bright eyes.” He cooed. Yoshi took the brush from his hand as Sho chuckled, giving the box’s shell a gentle scratch. The turtle chirped and churred softly, especially when Yoshi replaced his grandfather’s hand with the soft brush. 

“Here.” Sho picked up the softshell and slider with care and lowered them in alongside the snapper. The snapper’s tail lashed excitedly at the company. Yoshi worked the toothbrush over the turtle’s carapace, lathering up soft white bubbles on the surface. The box turtle happily stretched out, its three-fingered hands clumsily roaming over the texture of the towel. He babbled happily, cooing as Yoshi scratched the top of his domed shell with the brush. 

“Can’t reach that spot, hm?” Yoshi laughed as a pleased shudder ran through the turtle’s body. He gently wiped away the suds with the towel. The box turtle blinked up at him, innocent and trusting. Sho tapped his arm, and Yoshi handed over the soapy brush. 

Sho leaned over the tub and began scrubbing the next turtle, while Yoshi took the plush towel and ran it over the box turtle’s shell. He made a laughing-chirping noise and tried to grab the stubby clean fibres. Behind him, in the tub, the other 3 sloshed around in the clear water. The softshell stretched and settled down in the shallowest end. Meanwhile the red slider scrambled to get away from Sho, startling the large snapper. They should really find names for the little guys, it’s a little demeaning only calling them by their species. 

Yoshi reached for the bar of hand soap Sho had picked up and wet his hands to lather it. “You’re running low, Jiji.” 

“Ah, thank you. Come here little stripes, you have grime on your shell.” Sho leaned over the tub, splashing water be damned, and lifted the red eared slider. “Almost done, almost done.” 

“やった,” Yoshi chuckled softly as the turtle struggled. Peaceful silence swept over the room, interrupted only by the movement of small feet in water. 

Eventually all four turtles had been smothered in the towels and were less-than-enthusiastically sitting in the dry armchair of the hotel room. The aquatic three kept glancing back at the bathroom longingly. The box turtle settled down to sleep. 

Yoshi closed the door tightly behind him, since water, hard floors and 6 people down on their luck did not mix well. He had not forgotten the winter party of ’91, where they had to call the fire department. 

“Ah, the soup is cold.” It just hit him that caught up in the excitement of 4 half-human turtles… He still hadn’t eaten. Talk about easily amused. He then winced as the snapper turtle began eyeing the slider turtle’s stubby tail. “No—“ 

“They need names, hm?” Yoshi heard his grandfather’s words but focused on how adorably the turtles clambered over one another. “We can’t just call them 1, 2, 3, 4.” 

Yoshi hummed in agreement and reached out to pick up Green- As he’d dubbed the slider in the lab only days ago. “Proper names, yes.” 

“What about Ichiro,” Sho gestured to the largest turtle, and then to Green in Yoshi’s arms, “And Kaito for these two? I read about their species… At least what species I think they are. Kaito’s species are aquatic.” 

“Maybe. Do their names have to be Japanese, though? If they one day go out into the world… Somehow. I don’t want them to be made fun of.” 

“Yoshi,” Sho’s eyebrows drew together and exaggerated his wrinkles, “They’re in America. They need some connection to our heritage.” 

“We can teach them Nihongō! If they… Can speak?” Yoshi thought aloud. “Yeah. They could talk, if we gave them time. Turtles make noises in the wild.” 

“Yoshi,” Sho continued to protest. “There’s nothing wrong with the names I suggested. See, this turtle agrees. Oh, you’re so tiny.. I’m going to call him Daishiro, he looks like the youngest.” 

“Well why can’t we call them something in English that’s distinguished? They’re in an English-speaking country. Like, uh, that artist Leonardo.” Yoshi held the red-eared slider up higher as the mutant baby babbled. “He likes it!” 

“There’s no ‘L’ in Japanese, Yoshi.” 

“Reonaado isn’t too bad either! I used to call myself Lou onstage. That’s not very Japanese.” 

“Yes, you rejected everything Hamato and cultural when you left. I recall.”

“Just call him Naado, then. Narudo is too… Strange.” 

“Naado.” Sho repeated flatly. “I’m not sure about that one.” 

“Reo.” Yoshi countered. “Like Leo.”

“Still haven’t won me over.” 

“What other artists are there? Who made that big statue in Florence?” Yoshi hummed. 

“Something with an M. I think.” Sho frowned, before scowling as Yoshi thought deeply for a moment. It clicked. 

“Michelangelo. Michael, for short.” Yoshi beamed. “That’s cute!” 

“And Western.” 

“Yes, Jiji, that’s my whole point.” Yoshi reminded him, tone flat and sarcastic. 

“I’m not a fan.” 

“I know, Jiji. Oh, here’s one, Raphael. That’s a big boy name, we can give that to the big snapper. Big snapper Raphael.” 

“Raffu.” Sho tested the name out. “They’re just not… Not my favourite names, Yoshi. I like Ichiro.” 

“Hamato Ichiro doesn’t sound like a name you’d give to a spiky turtle.” Yoshi countered, raising an eyebrow. “They need cool names. Plus, we’ve probably had an Ichiro in our family already. We’e been around half a century.” 

“And? It’s nice to name your children after ancestors. The Hamato clan does a lot for its next generations, it’s the least we can do to remember our ancestors. We wouldn’t be here without them. No one would, if He was released.” 

“We’re not going to conveniently forget just because we don’t name our kids after them. Give them their own identity for God’s sake.” 

“Fine. Fine, you have a point. One point. Don’t get a big head over it.” Sho sighed and shook his head as Yoshi’s smile grew wider. “But I get to keep my favourite names as nicknames.” 

“Agreed.” Yoshi beamed ecstatically. 

Sho smiled to himself in victory and pointed at the turtles in order of size. Snapper, slider, softshell, box turtle. “Ichiro, Kaito, Saburo, Daishiro. Our boys.” 

“Our boys.” Yoshi echoed with a lazy grin. “You… Leonardo. You have cleverness in your eyes.” He picked up the slider by the sides of the shell, chuckling as the boy’s webbed feet tried to tread air like a swimming pool. 

“What about the other two? The smaller ones.” 

“Ah. I don’t know. Maybe it’s the snout but you don’t look like a Michael.” Yoshi gently booped the long nose of the softshell, watching his mouth part to try and chew his finger with pink gums. “Hm.. I should do more research.” 

“For now, we can call them my names.” Sho pet the large snapper, wary of the spikes. “It’s alright Ichiro, we’ll win him over yet.” 

Yoshi spun around spluttering at the conspiring whispers. “Eh?!” 

Chapter Text

Hot water, Yoshi decided, was as close as humanity could get to their ideas of ‘God’. He never wanted to leave the warm, steamy shower and face the world again. Discomfort? Never again. The sort-of cold lurking in his system the past few weeks finally faded. How he missed clear sinuses. If he had to stay here until his fingers went all wrinkly then so be— 

“Yoshi!” 

Ah. There it was, the real world calling. He groaned softly enough for the running water to muffle it. “One minute! Nearly done!” 

“I swear, it’s like you’re still a teenager.” Sho grumbled outside, purposefully loud and clear. “I’ll order the boys’ food without yours! Hurry up!” 

“Jiji, I need to get all the grime off! It’s thick!” Yoshi shouted back, exasperated. Sho huffed a half-hearted laugh. Yoshi didn’t hear him speak again, so he assumed his crimes of untimeliness were forgiven. Good. This was the first proper shower he’d had in a while. Not just a bucket and sponge scrub. Yoshi pulled a reflexive face of disgust. He needed to enjoy this, he needed to take extra-good care of himself now. There was a lot of time to make up for. 

He rolled his tongue over the sickly feeling in his mouth. He needed a good toothbrush. Mouthwash, too, to wash away the taste of the Battle Nexus. He smacked his lips for a minute with a frown. Then cupped his hands for some water to rinse it out. The hotel’s water left a worse taste in his mouth, but at least it wasn’t that of his own germs. He titled his head back, feeling his now-clean hair smooth out around his head. The conditioner, after several rounds of shampoo(and even some soap at one point), left it feeling silky. Not like his old products, never like his routine that cost a couple hundred, but better. Humbler. 

Yoshi lazily wondered if it’d been too soon if he ever saw his stylists again. He scrubbed down his arms, watching the lathered soap as it darkened. The white bubbles at his feet greyed. Maybe this was the fresh start he’d been longing for, back when he threw himself into relations with Big Mama and other, various stars. Ones that didn’t kidnap him. He chuckled mirthlessly. Then opted for another round of body washing to get rid of the feeling crawling along his skin. 

By the time he was finished the mirror was beyond useless. Yoshi reluctantly cracked open a window and sat on the edge of the room’s modest bathtub. His muscles felt relaxed in a way they hadn’t for a long, long time. He felt looser, calmer. Yoshi tilted his head back with a satisfied hum. The steamy air stuck to his skin and added to the feeling of water dripping down his neck, chilling in the cool breeze. Distantly he could hear the noises of New York’s roads. Closer, he could hear Sho baby talking to the little ones. 

He wiped down the worst of the soaking and approached the bathroom door to listen. Sho cooed and huffed a laugh. Yoshi noted the soft ‘clunk’ that proceeded it. Ah, the tots must be exploring again. 

It went suspiciously quieter. It stayed quiet. Yoshi slowed his breathing but didn’t hear anything other than honking cars and faint sirens. The air chilled the water running down his back, his calves. Well, he can’t stand here all day. 

Yoshi blinked in confusion as he left the bathroom. His freshly-scrubbed body stung with pinpricks of pain. Sho blocked his path out. “Can we talk again?” 

“…Sure?” Yoshi was uncomfortably aware of himself in that moment. The feeling of rough carpet on his feet. The fibres of his pyjamas rubbing against his body with each rise and fall of his chest. His breathing. Why was he self conscious of his own breathing?

“How would you feel about bringing the boys home?” Sho looked up at him almost grimly. 

Yoshi hesitated. 

“Well I thought that was our plan. We can’t abandon them on the street, they won’t make it. Do you, uh, what… Yikes, this sounds so snobby but... Which house are you talking about?” 

“My house, Yoshi. Back home. The grounds where your cousins are, they’ll understand.” 

“I don’t really want to bring them back to Japan, though.” Yoshi frowned, grasping one shoulder to rub it nervously. Sho looked at Yoshi over his shoulder, confused.  

“Why not?”

“Well- I don’t know. It’d be hard to get them over there in the first place, with mutations. I don’t want to stress them out by changing their entire dynamic-“ 

“Yoshi, the Hamato’s home is Japan. You need to come home.” 

“Jiji,” He swallowed, calculating his next words carefully, “I think this is my home now.” 

Sho turned to fully face him. His brows crinkled with genuine confusion. “Even after all you’ve been through? What is it about this place?” 

“I can’t go back to the old house.” 

“Who will hug me when I’m scared?” 

“Yoshi?” Sho’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Are you holding some sort of grudge? I thought you said you were ready.” 

“I am! I said I’m ready to talk to you again and realise I made a mistake,” He paused and screwed his eyes shut. “I’m not ready for that house.” 

“Because of Atsuko?” 

“Don’t.” Yoshi warned. 

“Stop being selfish-“

“What’s wrong with being selfish?” Yoshi challenged, “Don’t I deserve a choice in my own life?”

“You have to think of yourself, yes, but of other people in your life. Yoshi. How can I help you, if you’re so far from home again? And these…. boys.” 

“The boys physically cannot go to Japan, Jiji. Customs are going to find the living turtles making baby noises in our carry-on and we’ll lose them!” Yoshi gestured to the shut door in frustration, behind which the turtles were still sound asleep. Blissfully ignorant. Sho stopped arguing for just a minute to think about it logically. His mouth opened and closed several times as he tried and failed to think of solutions. 

“See?” Yoshi’s voice grew shrill. “There’s nothing we can do to move them! I’m not abandoning them, they’re here now because of me.” 

“How is this because of you, Yoshi? A mad scientist… Monster, kidnapped you!”

“I chose to take them with me.” He reminded his grandfather. His gaze dropped to the floor. Sho shuffled forward hesitantly. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” Sho reiterated, more sternly. “That was my point.” 

“But my point still stands! I went with those little ghoul things, by my own choice-“ 

“You were being starved, Yoshi!” 

“-But I chose to go the lab! Sane people wouldn’t do that. I knew they could have wanted to kill me then. I went anyways.” 

“Yoshi…” Yoshi grit his teeth and kept his eyes trained on the grain of the wood floor. His grandfather’s despondent look was practically psychic; He felt the regret bite, regardless. 

“And then that Yōkai, Draxum.” Yoshi shook his head with a huff. “He used me- my DNA- to make those poor things. They’re family now. We can’t abandon them.” 

“They’re turtles.” 

“They’re still half human, Jiji.” 

“I’m not denying that, but it’s hard to provide a normal life for turtle creatures. It’ll be disastrous if we just force them to do normal things.” 

“We… Maybe we could homeschool them?” 

“No tutors. You’d be retaking high school for them.” 

“Maybe tutors?”

“If you want the government called, sure.” Jiji waved his hand dismissively. Yoshi winced. 

“Alright, point taken. But my.. Ex could disguise herself as a human, before the whole Yōkai kidnapping thing. Maybe the boys could find a way, too?”

“We will see.” Sho grimaced at the mention of Big Mama and her deception. “Besides, it’s a big risk. We can’t do anything for them if they get sick.” 

“I mean… Yeah, true.” Yoshi relented. He wrung his hands and sat down on the bed. His leg shook anxiously. 

“Yoshi. Stop doing that.” Sho chided as if it were a reflex. Yoshi’s leg stilled. 

“I think all of us need a good meal, Jiji.” Yoshi sighed and flopped back on the bed. “Me, you, and the turtles.” 

“So what I’m hearing is ‘buy a mountain of fruit for the boys and I would like the junk food please’, hm?” 

“No, I think I’m craving fish. I don’t know why.” Yoshi muttered as he stretched, hands above his head. 

“I can do that.” Sho resigned himself to cook for the night. “I’ll extend our stay in this room too, then?”

“Probably for the best, yeah.” Yoshi agreed as he closed his eyes. Sho picked up a decorative pot and slammed it down. Yoshi startled and sat upright. “Alright, alright, 分かっただよ.” 

“Turn the TV on, play games with them, just don’t fall asleep with unsupervised little ones.”

“I got it.” Yoshi suppressed a yawn. Sho finally turned his back and slipped on his geta to leave. “You do have cash, right?”

“I’m an efficient man. I have enough money for a week, but I left half in the safe. New York.” 

“Ah. Yes, good idea.” Yoshi reached to scratch the back of his neck while clearing his throat. Wow. He wished he’d listened to his Jiji’s life lessons because he was not so organised.

“I’ll be back.. Let’s say half an hour? Use the cash for some room service if you want, the code is your birthday.” 

Oh. Yoshi blinked. His birthday?

“行ってきます!” Sho announced loudly as he left. 

“行ってらっしゃい” Yoshi answered automatically. His birthday… Jiji must have been thinking about him for a long time. He sighed, sinking back against the pillows in shock. He’d been gone a whole decade, and he was still the password child?

‘Don’t get your hopes up,’ his brain hissed, ‘He knew you were here. Jiji just needed something you’d both remember.’ 

The rest of the day brimmed with a tense, lonely silence. Yoshi muttered the customary ‘お帰り’ as Sho heaved inside bags of food and toiletries. He gratefully accepted the new, loose, comfy clothes without mention of their dated style. Yoshi was fine with drooping sleeves and dragging hems. Better than the skin-tight spandex he had to wear. The scratchy complimentary pyjamas of the hotel were swiftly retired. 

It made him feel like he was borrowing his cousin’s clothes again. Which was, well, nostalgic, but not something he felt he could share on the edge of 40. 

“I also went to the pet store. The turtles need a source of heat to grow. According to the staff there, anyway. But the woman had a ring in her nose, I don’t know if I should trust teenagers who look like bulls…” Sho dropped a book onto Yoshi’s lap. Pet turtle care. The turtle on the front had the same striking stripes as Leo— Kaito?— but he worried for the other boys. 

“Huh. That must be Kaito’s species.” Yoshi mumbled as he raised an eyebrow. “Any ideas on the others?” 

“It’s a little strange but I think I know what they are.” Sho continued. He shuffled off to the kitchen with a pear in hand and began to slice it up on a board. “They’re all water-dwelling turtles, aside from the little one.” 

“Jiji, they’re all little.” Yoshi jokingly added. Sho gave him a withering look. 

“The smallest, あほ.” There was no bite in his tone and Yoshi snickered. “The one with the biggest shell and smallest hands, eh?” 

“True. It is very tall compared to the others.” Yoshi had the largest turtle on his lap. Ichiro, according to Sho. Raphael, according to Yoshi’s whims. He held the boy’s clawed hands with a finger, bouncing him playfully. The turtle gurgled and chirped. 

Sho began to recite his trip’s spoils of information as he peeled stickers and chopped fruit. “I had a look at the books and also a computer. Big and spiky, Ichiro, I think is a snapping turtle. Kaito is clearly the common red eared slider. Very common pets, I hear. He will be easy to find information on. Saburo is a softshell, though. Little trickier. And little Orange is a box turtle.” 

Sho awww’d at the snapper and brought the pear-covered board, now knifeless, to the couch. The other three turtles stopped where they’d been terrorising the throw cushions and sniffed the air. 

“Yes, yes. Is this why you’re biting?” Yoshi cooed. Sho handed some slices to Yoshi for Raphael, then took care of the other three himself. “Wait, are you sure?” 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Jiji, this is a snapping turtle. I would like to keep my fingers.” Yoshi deadpanned. 

“First of all, he is a snapping turtle. Aren’t you?” Sho scratched Raph’s shell fondly. “And secondly, here.” 

Sho scooped more pear slices into the palm of his hand and left the board to Yoshi. 

“Alright. Point taken.” Yoshi spilled his portion of pear onto the wood and let Raphael investigate. He sniffed, nudging the unfamiliar fruit with his beak. Then took a bite, the front point of his beak slicing through. It met his lower jaw with a snap, splitting the pear in two. 

Yoshi gave his grandfather a pointed look. 

Sho looked away as he cleared his throat. He waved a pear in front of the other trio of turtles. “Come on, little ones. いただきます~” 

Leo and Michael began to clamber over each other to reach the fruit. Their softshell brother seemed disinterested. Sho practically put the pear to their mouths as the boys began to grasp and nudge the slice. Yoshi hummed softly in amusement. Raphael had demolished his share already and was being redirected by Yoshi to not steal his brother’s food. 

“I wonder if they were hatchlings when they were mutated.” Yoshi thought aloud as he picked Raph up by the shell, turning him yet again. “They could fit in my hand, but I’ve seen some baby turtles the size of coins.” 

“Coins.” Sho repeated back with a playful shake of his head. “You’ve just given yourself the answer.” 

“What if they were only a week old? Or would they be a month old at these sizes? I don’t know how fast turtles grow.” 

“They’re turtles. They grow slowly, do they not? Maybe we’ve got time to prepare.”

“We need to get another, more private house…” Yoshi leaned back into the sofa and groaned loudly. “What a pain.” 

“Well if you insist they’re family and we must treat them as such... It's strange, but that’s what our ancestors swore. Sure, they didn't have a Yokai City with bloodsport and mad scientists in mind.” 

Yoshi rested his head on the back of the sofa and stared up at the rusted ceiling fan above. The white paint facade peeled. He could feel the stubby claws of his biggest turtle clambering across his lap, maybe looking for more food. Yoshi closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. Then exhaled for a long moment. “I want to care for them, they’re my fault. But I… It’s not going to be easy caring for mutants the world isn’t ready for. They’re little now, but later… I don’t know.” 

Sho eased his weight onto the seat next to Yoshi. “Son, when I raised you I did not know what I was doing. You were nothing like your mother. No one is ever just like anyone else, so no parent really knows what they’re doing like, say, an artisan. There’s no manual on raising children. Just like how there will never be a manual on, well, mutants. We’ll try our best, hm?” 

“Would it have been easier if I was like Mom?”

“Maybe. You aren’t her, though.” 

“But if I were a real Hamato—“ 

Sho grabbed Yoshi’s shoulder tightly. “Don’t ever say you aren’t one of us! You are Hamato, blood and soul. I don’t care anymore about fighting or not fighting, training or not training. I thought you were dead! I thought you were worse than dead, because you weren’t with our ancestors!”  

Yoshi stared at his grandfather for a long, silent moment. His throat went drier than a desert as he bit his lip. It was like he was a child again, if the context was flipped on its head. If only Sho had had this revelation about training sooner. Would he have still ran away and changed— ruined?— everything? 

“I feel like the most forgotten Hamato, then.” Yoshi corrected himself hesitantly. “I think my cousins are closer to one another because of their dedication to training. I left.” 

“Yoshi, your picture was always on the wall smiling at us. You became famous. You abandoned your duties, but you were still family. We were angry. We said awful things. But if you’d have seen us building a shrine, begging and pounding on the earth for any sort of closure or forgiveness. It was the worst punishment for our inability to compromise and let you be. Hamato have a duty to each other as well as the world, my son, and I think I was blind sighted by our history. Times have changed and there are more of us, it seems. I should have allowed you to explore paths outside of being a mystic guardian.” 

“Yoshi.” Sho said again slowly to his silent grandson. “Look at me, son. You don’t have to be Atsuko. Let’s take this one day at a time, it’s been a long time since I have raised some Hamatos. And you are learning for the first time now. Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Yoshi agreed blankly. 

Sho leaned back in his seat with a long, slow sigh. The gold-dotted turtle curled up in his lap contentedly as he traced the patterns between the scutes. "I love you." 

"I love you too, Jiji."