Chapter Text
Hamato Yoshi walked into the store, wincing at the sudden sound of the bell, giving sceptic stares to the shop employee. He surveyed the store, filled with colourful cat toys, various leads and collars, and a ceiling-high bird cage. He walked slowly and with purpose, each stride filled with grief and resolve.
It had been months since the fire that had taken his whole family, a week since he had moved to New York to honour his late wife and child, deciding to live where they had dreamed, and now it was time to honour them and move on. They would not want him to live in sorrow and regret, but to move on and begin anew.
Yoshi had decided the easiest way to help this transition was to get a pet, it was logical and would help keep his mind occupied.
He past the loud squawking of the birds, deciding them to be too noisy and messy for his small apartment.
He decided against the puppies and kittens, worried about how hyperactive and mischievous they would be. Not to mention cleaning.
He was tempted to just get a fish, simple and easy to care for, but felt this would be too easy. Yoshi was all bout ready to give up, shaking his head solemnly as he turned to leave before a tank caught his eye.
It was a simple tank, filled with a small pool and a log to play? Did these creatures play? Sat in the tank were four small baby turtles. The smallest one sat upon another’s shell, stealing bits of its lettuce, one violently nudged its head against the tank’s pebble lining, and the last stared curiously into Yoshi’s eyes.
Hamato Yoshi stared into the curious turtle's russet eyes, a small smile spreading onto his lips. These would be perfect, he thought, before he bought the turtles and their care instructions.
He walked out of the store, holding four baby turtles in his arms (He had decided not to separate them, not wishing to break up their family, having personally known that heartbreak)
He wandered down an alley, a shortcut to his new one-bedroom apartment, muttering soothingly to the unsteady turtles. I wish I could carry them without jostling them, “We will be a family my small turtle children” he chuckled, amused at referring to the turtles as children, “I will name each of you, hmm but what?” he mused.
He stared at the curious one, before nodding approvingly, “You shall be named Donatello, and, Well I guess I should keep to the theme, yes?” The turtles didn’t reply as Yoshi continued.
“Raphael” he pointed at the turtle that now angrily head-butted the glass.
“Michelangelo” the smallest turtle that sat on his brother’s back.
“And Leonardo” he smiled at the turtle, sharing his resources with his younger brother. (He’d guessed based on their sizes that Michelangelo was the youngest, Leonardo most likely the oldest. Raphael and Donatello were too close to tell)
Yoshi looked up from the turtles that had occupied his attention, happy with their names, only to find himself in an unfamiliar part of the alley. Many men surrounded him.
“Can I help you?” Yoshi asked, slightly cursing his accent. He may know English, but speaking it was a different deal.
The men smiled at him, menacing and awkward, and Yoshi had to fight the urge to roll his eyes, preparing to get into a fighting stance, before realizing he was holding a turtle tank. Inconvenient, but not impossible.
Yoshi surveyed the men, their faces disturbingly all the same. Are they triplets? The men advanced, and Yoshi cursed as they grabbed his arms, causing him to drop the tank, an irrational urge to protect his newfound ‘family’ dulling his senses as he tried to shake the men off.
Yoshi fought and struggled, using his years of ninjutsu to his advantage, but he was still overpowered. The men held a strange green liquid in a canister above Yoshi’s head, angling it away from his struggles. Instinctively he hit it away, judging it as a potential weapon. It fell with a resounding crash, the strangely thick, glowing, liquid covering his head.
Hamato Yoshi remembered three things after that.
The distinct squeak of a rat as it gazed at him curiously.
His small turtle ‘children’ gazing at him, also covered in the strange ooze.
And his own yell of pain as he hit the floor, everything around him turning a murky black.
///
Hamato Yoshi will never know why the men left him alive, maybe they got spooked by a passer-by, maybe they got what they had wanted and left him for dead, or maybe what they saw had horrified them so much they ran screaming. Yoshi wasn’t sure and at the time he couldn’t dwell on it.
He had awoken to find a long-hairless tail wrapped protectively around his torso, his arm’s covered in thin soft fur, his nose was so long he could see it, twitching in the cold breeze. He scrambled to a suspicious puddle, gazing back at his rodent reflection. His eyes had become beady, his nose was now sat on a muzzle, it’s tip pink with whiskers prodding out of them. He gave the whiskers an experimental pull, possibly trying to wake himself from this nightmare, and his balance was thrown off. He decided that it was a bad idea to tug the- his- Whiskers.
Yoshi looked down at his shaking hands- Claws- wet tears dripping downward onto his wobbly palms, in between his fingers, and onto the concrete below. This is the universes revenge for my sins, he though solemnly, a sob escaping his lips.
A loud giggle filled the alley, alerting the man- rat- to a small group of babies surrounded by green glowing liquid and shattered glass. They were they turtle baby’s Yoshi had bought earlier that day, only… different.
Now in place of their miniscule turtle forms where body’s the size of a human infant, their gazes held a sort of intelligence all infants possessed, not like that of overly curious turtles. Yoshi scrambled backwards into a cluster of cans and bottles, his eyes widening in fear, shock and curiosity. The infant with Russet eyes gazed at him, as if studying the strange larger creature in front of him, before attempting to crawl towards the rat-man. Yoshi flinched at the sudden movement, surprised at how easily the turtle baby moved despite looking around five to six months old, as the infant advanced on him. A primal instinct told him to remain perfectly still as the child laid its cold scaled hand’s on Yoshi’s warm soft fur, moving it about as if he treasured the warmth, which, if Yoshi thought about it, they probably did. He remembered turtles where cold-blooded animals, logically -Since logic definitely applied in this scenario- these infant-turtle creatures where also cold-blooded.
The russet eyed turtle cooed, seeming to beckon at his brother’s, churring and pointing at Yoshi’s fur. The smallest turtle attempted to follow, but fell on his face, before sitting up, his lip-beak? Yoshi wasn’t sure, it seemed like a combination of the two- began to quiver, his baby-blue eyes widened as he let out a loud wail, tears steaming down his chubby cheeks.
“WHAAAAAA!” the young turtle cried, drawing the attention of his older brothers. Yoshi felt a pang in his chest, possibly a residual of fraternal instincts, and walked carefully over to the crying child. He gently picked the crying boy up under the arms, pulling him to his chest, before making soothing sounds into his ear slit. The turtle stilled, moving into the warmth of Yoshi’s fur. His brother’s who sat by Yoshi’s feet watched, one angrily banging his chubby fist onto Yoshi’s leg, gesturing for ‘upsies’ the other giving Yoshi a surprisingly protective glare.
Yoshi smiled at this familial display, carefully picking up the other two, getting a satisfied grunt from the moodier one and an awed gaze from the protective one. The russet eyed one pulled himself up to a wobbly stand, clinging to Yoshi’s leg. Isn’t he too young to be holding himself? Yoshi thought, before dismissing himself, he’s also too much of a turtle to compare to human standards.
Yoshi smiled downward at them, an idea forming in his brain, “maybe this is not my punishment, but my chance at redemption” he mused, thinking back on his turtle ‘children’ comment earlier.
He scooped up the intelligent one, holding all four-turtle infants to his chest, using his tail- that would take time to get used too- to make sure that they were all balanced safely. He gazed into the deep blue eyes of the only one not falling asleep, the one who’s gaze still seemed admiring.
“Leonardo, my son, I shall protect you and your brothers. I will not repeat the same mistakes twice, I will take this opportunity to repent for my sins and give you all a chance at a life, this I swear” The small turtle churred, not comprehending what the man was saying.
This will be a lot… Yoshi thought, but he carried the four turtle infants towards his apartment, clinging to the shadows for safety, not about to waste his second chance.
I wish you were here my darling Tang Shen and Miwa…
///
The rat man had found a surprisingly large tunnel within the sewer, an old train station that was a wide space, larger than any apartment the city had to offer. It had a small water pool for the infants to swim in, the water surprisingly clean and filtered- Perhaps it was a decoration for the scrapped station?- The smallest turtle- Michelangelo - took quite a liking to it, giggling and churring as he splashed his moodier brother- Raphael- with water. Raphael was not amused, angling his chubby fists at Michelangelo’s head, before being stopped by the eldest turtle- Leonardo- who shot his brother a surprisingly exasperated look for an infant.
Yoshi gave the small boys a drained smile, today had been a long day, before going off to survey the rest of their newfound ‘home’, the curious infant- Donatello- in his arms. Their new ‘home’ had a small kitchen (Presumably for the station staff) That Yoshi was fairly certain he could hook back up to the gas and electricity. Yoshi found six spaces, wide enough to be rooms. This could be a Dojo, He thought as he glanced at the largest space. It was wide, with smooth walls and a patch of dirt floor, sunlight from a grate filtered in stunningly. It also connected to the second biggest room, the one he decided he would claim as his own. He also found four smaller ‘rooms’ that they could claim when the turtles were older. For now, Yoshi was going to treat them like human infants, keeping them in a slightly broken cot in his room until they aged. Assuming they aged, He wasn’t sure how turtle-human-hybrid babies worked.
Yoshi also found a large boarded-up room, almost as big as his ‘dojo’ that was filled with electrical outlets, live wires and a steel door that looked like it wouldn’t close. Donatello reached for it, almost falling out of Yoshi’s arms, but the man quickly steadied the turtle, before looking back at the room. This will stay boarded up.
Yoshi walked back out to the water pool, finding Raphael asleep on a rock, and Michelangelo and Leonardo engaged in some infant-style game of rock paper scissors. Yoshi didn’t understand the rules of the game, and by the looks of it, neither of the boys did either. But they were smiling, content, almost completely unaware of the fact that they would live in this sewer. Almost, something about the way Donatello looked at their new surroundings made him feel like they were more aware than they let on.
“This is it boys” Yoshi sighed, “our new home” He gave one fleeting look to the ceiling, a pang in his chest at never seeing the world he grew up in again, before fondly looking at his ‘second chance’
“I think It will be a good home”
///
“MICHELANGELO DO NOT EAT THAT!” Yoshi yelled as he tried to re-wire the oven, struggling to understand the English instructions, wishing he could find some in Japanese. It is hard to find things like books at night, He sighed. Donatello sat next to him as he worked on the oven, watching with keen fascination and mimicking his hand movements.
Michelangelo was licking a baby toy, despite Yoshi’s repeated instructions not to, and Raphael was violently attempting ‘tummy’ time. Leonardo sat at the old worn table Yoshi had found in an alley, perched on the blue baby seat.
“Ugh, what will I do with you four?” Yoshi muttered, going over and picking Michelangelo up. It had been about two months since Yoshi had turned into a- he still struggled to believe it- Rat, and him and the four infant turtles had made the sewers into a fairly decent home.
Yoshi had found an abandoned store filled with Japanese products and had taken tatami mats, a tree sapling and some display weapons (They were illegal to wield, yet people carried guns like poodles. Yoshi found this country to be strange)
he had also raided a small martial arts store, leaving what was left of his cash behind as payment (He assumed he wouldn’t need money anymore)
He now had a fully built dojo, along with his own room. He had planted the tree in the one uncovered spot of his dojo, so it could get light, deciding his sons deserved to see nature as they grew. Now all he needed to do was finish the kitchen so that he and his children could eat. (cold canned food and algae just wasn’t the same)
“Oh… Oh-vvv” Donatello muttered, squinting at the instruction manual.
Yoshi had learned that the turtles seemed to age like normal children, although he was positive Donatello was ahead. It was surprising since his twin (Yoshi couldn’t guess who was older out of the two of them) Raphael was slightly delayed. Still unable to crawl despite his brothers already understanding it, and his twin already walking.
“You can do it, Raphael, just be patient” Yoshi encouraged as the small child let out a frustrated scream, trying to crawl towards Yoshi, probably jealous of Michelangelo’s ‘cuddle times’
The turtles were all very affectionate. Or Yoshi was really warm and they were really cold. It was hard to tell.
“Oh-vvvv-nn” Donatello continued, before a bright smile lit up his face, revealing his baby teeth. (It had been a fun surprise when he found out the turtle children could teethe, he still had a Michelangelo molar-shaped indent in his shoulder)
“Did you just speak?” Yoshi asked, completely surprised at his little genius vocalization.
Donatello beamed at him, opening his mouth to speak again, “Dammn oh-evn!” he yelled, pride directed at Yoshi.
Yoshi went to scold him, but before realising that he was just repeating what he had said earlier, he let out a sigh and placed Michelangelo back down, before patting Donatello on the head, “Good job”
///
“SPLINTER!” Michelangelo yelled, the small five-year-old running at his sensei. The boy had been unable to pronounce the word sensei as a child, and despite Yoshi seeing them as his children, ‘father’ or ‘dad’ was still too hard to hear. So, he had taken on this new name, along with his new mantel.
“Yes Michelangelo?” Splinter asked.
Within the year’s things had calmed down, he had found all the furniture necessary to live a somewhat sustainable life, and if he was ever in need of more New York was littered with it. People threw out unwanted furniture like candy wrappers, but they also swooped it up like vultures so it was hardly odd when an old sofa disappeared from an alleyway or a tv from an abandoned shop window (Yoshi had decided it wasn’t stealing if the shop was abandoned, even if Leonardo in his strong sense of morality thought it was)
“Raph stole my comic!” Michelangelo whined, his baby-blue eyes welling with tears.
“Did not you big baby, I borrowed it” Raphael muttered, being dragged in by the shell by an exasperated Leonardo.
Donatello followed not long after, quietly observing and rolling his eyes. “Why did you even take it? Not like you can read”
Raphael spluttered, his green face turning a little red with anger “Shut up Donnie! Not everyone is a nerd who reads like you-“
“How original, of course a pleb like you thinks reading is a ‘nerd’ thi-“
“Enough” Leonardo was holding both his brothers by the shells now as they glared at one another. Yoshi had to hold back a slight chuckle, amused by their odd antics.
In the years he’d learned that each brother was… Different.
Michelangelo was an overly emotional and empathetic child, and he fit the role of the ‘baby’ brother perfectly. His older brothers teasing and doting on him daily. He was overly creative (And a troublemaker, berated for painting of the dojo walls) and had a knack for thinking quickly (And be distracted quicker)
Donatello was a very intelligent child, but he did lack some emotional intelligence. He could already do math and science at a fifth-grade level (Yoshi had needed to raid many bookstores for old study materials to keep Donatello occupied) but whenever he was hurt or mad, he shut down. He was quick to a snarky remark (Usually using vocabulary Yoshi barley understood, let alone his brothers) but he was unable to express emotions without great effort.
Raphael on the other hand was quite different to his twin. He was loud and abrasive, usually overly emotional and quick to a tantrum. If he struggled with something he let it be known, but he refused help (Yoshi thought this could be an inferiority complex due to how quickly Donatello had developed compared to him) and he was awfully… violent, for lack of another word. He was quick to fights and Yoshi would need to snuff that little flame before it got out of hand.
And Leonardo.
The boy followed Yoshi around like a shadow, admiring him and seeming to look up to him. He guessed that was probably the case with all of his children (He was their father) but Leonardo seemed to emulate him. Like he was some great figure, the young boy (Turtle?) seemed to aspire to be like Yoshi and… Yes, that was another small fire that he needed to snuff out before it became Leonardo’s undoing.
Yoshi stood up, looking down at the small squabble Leonardo was trying to break up. He lifted his staff to intervene, the loud noise scared and called the boys attention, when Donatello pushed- shoved -Raphael. Donatello was rarely violent, but when he was, he could be rather aggressive. Raphael tried to dodge his twins attack, falling onto the concrete edge that surrounded the patch of dirt the tree had been growing in. There was a sickening crack followed by Raphael’s shout of pain.
Yoshi fell to his son’s side in an instant, ignoring as Michelangelo sobbed in concern and Donatello turned sickly pale. He lifted Raphael up, wincing as he saw the crack in the boy’s shell. It wasn’t deep, but the skin under it was so soft it bled easy. Yoshi breathed in, ignoring the mix of fear as his lungs went to constrict and cut off his air.
Now was not the time.
Yoshi was about to instruct his other sons to help while he dabbed tears from Raphael’s red eyes, when Raphael got up, an overdramatic scream leaving his lungs. Before Yoshi could do anything, Raphael had knocked out Donatello’s front tooth.
It became a blur from there, Yoshi had Leonardo help him with Raphael and had Michelangelo take a shocked and still concerningly pale Donatello out of the room as he bandaged the still screaming Raphael’s shell.
He spent days monitoring the boys, until eventually they seemed almost the same as before. Raphael boasted about his scar (The shell would not heal; Yoshi and Donatello had poured over books on reptiles until they were sure) and Donatello…
He concerned Yoshi.
He had become more recluse from his brothers and had begun to pour over countless books on human and reptile biology (Unsure how the ooze that had created them, he’d decided learning both was probably the smartest move) He’d even been pestering Splinter to open up the large room that was filled with wires and dangerous pipes. (He wanted a lab, of all things.)
Yoshi shook his head, he was just worrying too much. This was just a small fixation, the turtles had those from time to time, and soon Donatello would snap out of it and realise what had happened was not his fault.
It was just a small fight among children.
Yes, Yoshi reassured himself as he watched his children play in the small makeshift loungeroom, just a small fight among children.
Nothing more.