Chapter Text
Every school had one. The place where they send troubled kids, and finally, after one too many slip ups, Raphael had managed to land himself smackdab in the middle of that room. But he wasn’t a troubled kid. He had two parents that loved him and three younger siblings he would have liked to knock the snot out of, but hey, that's family. Still, what he did have was a short fuse, and the training to show why you shouldn’t light that fuse.
The room was a baby blue, the kind of blue that they used to try and be a “calming color,” though if you are in that room, no amount of color therapy is going to save you. They, of course, chose the smallest room in the building, and somehow the coldest as well. Yeah, it had a few books on child behavioral studies, the diagnosis handbook, and, of course, the friendly looking therapist that everyone always spoke so highly of. Mrs. Hillsmen? Haller? Something like that. Raphael didn’t really care, to be honest. He was trying to figure out what he would have to say in order to get out of there as quickly as possible.
“Raphael, do you know why you’re in here?”
“No.” He grumbled. Deny everything .
He was leaning into one side of the neutral colored couch, his arms crossed tightly across his chest almost flex as his narrowed eyes stayed fixated on the poor tiny therapist. His parents were sitting on the other end of the couch, respecting that he probably wanted space. His mother was curled up into his father, not particularly scared, but worried. Her dark brown eyes kept darting over to her son, drifting between his face and posture. Sure, this was an invasion of his privacy, but she was his mother and this was her job.
His father had a warm smile, arm curled around his wife and rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. If he was worried, he didn’t show any signs of it. Joseph knew his son was harmless and refused to give Raphael the satisfaction of getting riled up. He’ll get his attitude adjusted one way or another.
“W-well…” The therapist was a little confused looking at the family. “In this week alone, you have told a teacher to fuck off and you told her you would have your homework when you had it. You broke another student’s nose-”
“He was pickin’ on one of the younger kids, was I supposed to just let ‘im?” Raph argued, sitting up straight.
“He has a point on that one,” Joseph said, “I told my son to stand up to bullies, so I’m letting that one slide.”
“I-I don’t… Okay… well, he has had many other micro outbursts and Debra has expressed concern for his… temper,” Though the therapist was having doubts in that moment, “I know Raphael is on the wrestling team, but… martial arts has been proven to help increase discipline and peace of mind. And he can still hit things, just not people outside of sparring. At least, not without supervision. I already spoke with the head of the local dojo. He has a class this evening I would like Raphael to attend.” She handed all three a pamphlet with a smile.
While Joseph and Debra seemed to find the idea exciting and refreshing, Raphael was clearly not feeling it. Joseph was imagining his son as a great competitive martial artist and someday owning his own dojo. His mother, on the other hand, was just excited he might make some new friends. As for Raphael, he was less than excited. Letting out a breath he was holding, he knew his parents were going to make him go.
Anna bit down on her lip and squirmed in place, rehearsing what she was going to say. It was never easy confronting her oldest. Out of her four kids he was the only one that seemed to be able to fend for himself. It seemed to be more of a “he seems to be fine,” than a “he is actually fine,” type of situation, however. She took another deep breath before knocking softly. She counted, nodding her head, one… two… three, okay.
She opened the door and wasn’t surprised by what she saw at all. Her son was good at helping with the house work, but his room always looked like a dumpster. He was sitting at his desk with a blanket over his head, fingers moving effortlessly and gracefully over the keys. His desk was covered in monster energy drinks with bags of chips littering the floor around his desk. Normally this would have turned into a lecture, but she reminded herself she was here to help him.
“D-Donnie? Do you have a moment?” when he didn’t say anything, she kept going. “I’ve been thinking, lately you have been so shut up in your room, and I can’t help but notice you’ve barely left aside from helping me with the twins and…” She realized he wasn’t actually listening.
“Donatello Anderson!” She said firmly, making Donnie practically throw his headphones across the room and fall out of his chair.
“Y-yes mom?” His deep brown eyes looked up at his mother with a sheepish smile.
“Donatello, I’m worried about you. You never leave the house… other than going to school or helping me with the kids. You need to go out, Donnie, have fun! Make friends and get into some trouble…” she sighed, “you’re so young, and I don’t want to see you waste your childhood raising your siblings and sitting in front of your screen!,” she threw her hands up in the air in frustration, “You have the rest of your life to be a famous code maker, changing the world and building dreams. But for now, you are sixteen, and you need to get out and live your life.”
“Mom, I’m fine, really. I get out at school-”
“Donnie…” Her tone warned him to let her finish speaking, “When you were little, do you remember watching… oh, what was that show you loved… with all the little ninjas in it?”
“Naruto, mom. I-I don’t like shows like that anymore…” he blushed, finally sitting up, “I mean, that’s a stupid kids show!” He tried to laugh it off, though he secretly did still love that show, and was always on the forums trying to keep up.
“Well you always wanted to be a ninja. You took the broom apart to have a bo staff so you could try to mimic one of the characters,” Anna was lost in her nostalgia, smiling at the memory, “So I found this dojo-”
“Mom,” Donnie interrupted, standing up, “look, that’s really sweet of you, but we can’t afford that right now, and I don’t want you to stretch our budget because you’re worried about me.”
Donnie had always been responsible, always carrying the weight of being the man of the house. His father had up and walked out when he was too young to recall. He never understood why someone would walk out on their family, on someone they claimed to love. He tried to make sure his mother didn’t carry the burden on her own, especially when she got pregnant with his siblings. That had been one of the instances where his father tried to come back, only to realize once again that he didn’t really want to be part of a family. He left again, and Donnie never forgave him.
“Donnie, that’s the best part!” Anna’s smile was so bright and happy. Donnie couldn’t remember the last time she smiled like that. “The master of the dojo, I called him and talked to him, and well, he said that he doesn’t charge for underage individuals. He said that in today's day and age, he’s very excited when he sees children and teenagers in the dojo. Please, Donnie,” she begged and looked up at him, blinking her eyes pleadingly.
Donnie knew there was no getting out of this. He had to go. After all, his mother had remembered his favorite show, as a kid of course, because he would never say he liked it now. She had done the research and… and she was smiling.
“Okay mom, I’ll go.”
She kissed his forehead, hugging him tightly and laying her head on his shoulder. For just a moment, Donnie felt like life was perfect and the world was at peace. Though it can never last.
CRASH
“He did it!”
“Nu-uh! He did!”
The two shared a weak smile before getting up to clean up the mess and calm the twins.
Michelangelo was lost in his comic books once again, legs kicking gently in the air as he hovered over his book, his adoptive brother playing video games in the bunk above him. They shared a pretty nice room, and while his parents always apologized for it, he didn’t mind sharing the room. In fact, he was just happy to have a place to call home. He and Jacob were already pretty similar; the room was decorated with posters and comic book art, video games were scattered and three gaming systems sat by their small TV. Your stereotypical teenage boy’s room.
“Dude, wouldn’t it be so cool to be a ninja?” Mikey mused. He was reading a batman comic, one that featured Damian, the trained assassin.
“Bro, that’s too much work,” Jacob laughed, “Now come play Smash with me!”
Mikey huffed. He always dreamed of being a superhero, prowling the streets at night looking for bad guys, bringing them to justice! He would totally have a catchphrase, something like, “Stop evil doer!” and he would put his hands on his hips, smirking at them, watching the hope drain from their eyes as they realized they had no chance of winning. Babes would want him, and he would find the one reporter girl that was crazy about him, trying to understand who he was and where he came from. They would start to fall in love and she would ignore him as plain old Mikey, but maybe she would start seeing the same traits...
“Dude… I would make an amazing ninja!” He beamed, opening his phone.
Jacob looked at his brother, annoyed. Honestly, in his opinion, Mikey needed adderall. Don’t get him wrong, he loved Mikey, and having a brother his age was pretty damn cool, but he just wished he could focus for like ten seconds.
Mikey pushed his shaggy blonde hair out of his face a few times as he tried to look for some kind of a dojo near by. And... bingo ! There was one three streets away that had just opened and offered free classes for kids his age! If he was dreaming, he hoped Jacob didn’t wake him up. Jake always woke him up from good dreams, usually by sticking his feet in his face.
“Bro, I gotta go! I’ll be back later!” He grabbed his favorite beanie, putting his hair up. He grabbed his favorite skateboard, no helmet included, even though his mother would probably try to lecture him on his way out.
“Mikey, where is your helmet.”
“Moooom, I need to go! There’s a dojo three streets away and I am totally gonna be a ninja!” He whined, glaring a little. I mean, how could she want to hold him back from an opportunity like this?!
“Mikey, that’s fine, but ninjas need to protect their heads, so wear your helmet,” She laughed. She would give Mikey anything he wanted, desperate to make him happy, to make him feel like he was truly part of their family, “and how much do you need for these classes?”
“I don’t need any money, they’re free for underage people like me, Mom,” He grabbed his helmet, bright orange and hard to miss. He didn’t mind it, but he couldn’t say he loved it.
“Well that’s good,” His father huffed, “At least you don’t sit in your room playing video games all day,” He tilted his head toward the stairs, loud enough for Jacob to hear.
“You bought the game systems, I’m just making sure you get your money's worth!” he called back, laughing, “Mikey, on your way home stop at the taco truck if they’re still open, dude!”
“You got it, broski!”
Without another thought, he took off out the door, skating down the sidewalk and all but running people off. Hey, they may be mad at him today, but they would be apologizing when he saved their asses from baddies later.
New York was a beautiful but dirty city with high crime rates. It was a little late for anyone, let alone teens to be out of the house, but hey, in the big apple that was just a Saturday evening. Well, it was a Tuesday, but still. Somehow, the area around the dojo felt clean and safe. Even though the streets were barely lit at this time, and you could smell the garbage. No graffiti covering the walls, the windows were clean, and a soft, warm light came from inside the dojo. If you were looking in from the outside, all you could see was the hardwood floor, the mirrors that lined the walls so that students could check their form, and one lone old man meditating on a mat, a single candle lit in front of him.
Donnie, being the kind of young man he was, managed to show up nearly half an hour early for the class. He reminded himself that he was doing this for his mother. He was sure she would be smiling when he went on and on about his lessons, maybe he could find ways to stretch it out, make it sound like the adventure she wanted him to have. He was a little anxious walking in, seeing no one but an older man lost in meditation.
“Excuse me, sir?” Donnie couldn’t hide the slight shake in his voice.
“Hm, oh, you must be one of my students for this evenings class,” His voice was brittle with age, but Donnie could hear something in his voice he just couldn’t place.
“Uh, yes sir, I hope I can keep up. You see, I’ve never really done anything like this, and my mother was hoping it might help me get out of the house and socialize more. You know, make friends? I thought I might be the only one here tonight, but you said one of your students-”
“You must be Donatello. Your mother told me you might be a tad anxious… and that you might be early,” he chuckled, “Yes, there are other students, two more if I recall. Even if there weren’t, I would have made my son join us,” the wrinkles around his eyes curled as he smiled.
Donnie sighed, relaxing a little. He had a son? Was he his age? He doubted it. Looking at the older man, he was sure any child he had was in his thirties at least. But that meant at one point or another, he had a teenage son.
“Thank you, should I call you Sensei? That’s the Japanese word for teacher right?” He smiled, proud that he had done some research before showing up.
“That is the correct word, yes, and you may if you would like. Or Mr. Hamato works just as well. About your comment earlier about keeping up, understand this; if you try, you never truly fail.”
Donnie was shocked by the old man’s kindness, and he couldn’t help but feel hopeful for the lesson. That was until the school’s hot head walked in.
Raphael looked around, scowling as he took in the dojo. It was nothing like he had imagined. Being the way he was, he had hoped for at least one attractive shirtless guy, but all he saw was some scrawny kid and an older Japanese man.
“You must be Raphael,” the old man smiled.
“Yeah… that's me. Are you the coach?” He always respected his coaches, and he was making sure this one knew that.
“Actually, he is a Sensei, because he’s teaching martial arts, which the Japanese word for-”
“Yes, I am your coach of sorts,” He smiled, Raphael's mother had made sure to call and warn him about her sons temper. The last thing he wanted was for a fight to break out. Well, not one that wasn’t carefully monitored. The commotion would surely keep his son from peaking his head out.
Raphael narrowed his eyes at the taller, yet smaller boy before focusing his energy back on Yoshi.
“So what kind of warm ups are we in for?” He gave a wide smile. He always enjoyed getting physical and having a chance to expend some energy, and the way he saw it, he would probably be helping this poor old man.
“Well, we can talk warm ups when our last student gets here,” He smiled serenely. He was no fool, he knew that they had already written him off as a tired old man, and he was content with that. He was not okay with the door suddenly being thrust open, however, and a hyperactive child skateboarding into the dojo.
“Wassup' dudes!” Mikey yelled, all but running in, still on his skateboard.
“No skateboards on the floor, Michelangelo,” Yoshi scolded, trying to straighten up.
“Oh, sorry Sensei-dude!” He skid to a stop and put the board in his backpack.
Yoshi Hamato looked over his new students and he couldn’t help but smile. They were all sorts of misfits. A hyperactive child that probably thought martial arts was the way to get girls (though it had worked for him when he was a younger man...), a child angry at the world for god knows why, who needed help finding inner peace, and a young man teeming with intelligence, but no real physical outlet to relieve his burdened mind. He knew he could mold them into slightly more disciplined versions of themselves, and they could teach him just as much.
“Leonardo!” he called, “Come my son, we have students,” he waited and sighed, “I am sure he will join us when he is ready.”
He tried to hide his annoyance, his son knew better than to ignore the guests in their home. Students were their guests, after all. He would have to have a talk with him later, though he tried to find a reason as to why he didn’t answer. Perhaps he had worked too hard and dozed off, his son was known for overworking himself, or perhaps he was focused on his studies, or cooking, yes, there were many reasons he may not be answering.
He started them with a few simple stretches making sure they were ready, though they weren’t making it far with Mikey whining and complaining.
“C’mon man, aren’t you supposed to teach us to fight?!”
“Yes, but that comes later,” His mouth twitched into a smile at the edges. Leonardo had once been that way, when he was but a child... before they had to flee Japan.
“How much later? Will I be able to kick butt?!” He beamed, trying to copy the stretch. He seemed to be vibrating in place.
Raphael and Donatello looked less than pleased, listening to his chatter. Donatello and Raphael were able to mimic the stretches perfectly, earning both boys a soft smile from their Sensei. However, the old man didn’t seem bothered by Mikey’s actions. In fact, he just answered every question he had asked.
“Ah, Leonardo, how nice of you to join us,” He smiled at his son, “Perhaps you can help me.”
“Yes, Father?” Leonardo was dressed in a deep blue kimono exposing some of his chest. His shoulders were broad and arms muscular. His hair was long, looking like finely spun silk that hung slightly in front of his right eye like a veil.
“Michelangelo needs a demonstration of what he may learn should he stay on my path.”
Leonardo smiled a little, “If that is your will, father,” he bowed a little, slowly as though taking his time. His father was a good man, and Leonardo knew without a doubt in his mind that he would lose the match, but it was always a delight to be able to help his father. He will always be grateful for what he has done for him.
Father and son went to opposite sides of the room, bowing with small smiles on their faces. Leonardo took a simple stance, inviting his father to make the first move. As Splinter charged forward, Leo blocked, grabbing his father's wrist and flipping him back, only for Yoshi to push off the mirror with his feet. Lunging for his son, he grabbed him by the shoulder and slammed him down. Leo spun on one hand, using his left leg to sweep his father’s feet, but before he hit the ground, he caught himself. Father and son went back and forth as everyone looked on in awe.
Before they knew it, Splinter had his son on the ropes. Things finally came to a standstill with Splinter putting his son to the floor, hand braced at his chest. A moment of silence swept over the room before Splinter and Leo smiled, and Leo took his father’s hand. Mikey started clapping loudly, beaming and cheering in equal measure, Donnie quickly followed with his own clapping. Raph nodded in appreciation and tried to otherwise look disinterested.
When class ended, each boy had a new outlook on the dojo. Raphael wouldn’t say it out loud, but he had high hopes for this… punishment, now. He wouldn’t have to be told twice when the next class was. Donnie, being who he was, began to wonder about a ninja video game. He would code it himself, of course, but he would need more source material. It wasn’t because he wanted to be like the ninjas in the anime. Absolutely not. Mikey’s eyes were shining brightly as every comic book hero was replaced with Leonardo. His new goal was to befriend the local ninja family, and of course to learn some of those moves.