Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In Leonardo Hamato’s most professional opinion, New York’s polluted air was far from terrible.

It was unbearably disgusting.

There was nothing to like about it. It reminded him of melted slobs of what once was a tire on a blazing summer afternoon, and blackened ash, and burnt food. Furthermore, the obsidian fumes only shielded what was left of the glimmer speckled across dark hues of purple and blue above. It tasted and smelt and looked like what one would imagine: like utter shit.

And yet, never in his life did he think he would relish inhaling the waft of putrid black which blanketed thinly upon the city that never sleeps.

Step after the other, he charged through the ugly smoke and chased the vibrant lights, bleeding into traffic noises and unimaginably tall buildings. Sliding down the fire escape ladder, his knuckles whitened before plummeting himself into the air. Arms swinging after the other, his posture became less relaxed and adopted a stiffer and jerkier movement; the occasional buckle from his knee blending with the incoherent road rage and rapid footsteps.

He would occasionally see the huff of his own breath disappear into the chilling evening. The further he ran, the more he couldn’t stave his hunger to feel the pounding thump of his heart, threatening to burst, hunting for the feeling of blood rushing to his ears and breathlessness.

Overwhelming would be an understatement to what he was feeling, but god did it make him want to savor every bit of it.

Despite months deprived of venturing outside (against his own will too, can you believe that?), he didn’t require assistance to guide through the ever slightly, constantly changing landscape. He knew it like the back of his palm. Because no matter how many times he spotted the sketchy overpriced street vendor, or observed the crooked corporate infrastructure toppling one another, he could never get enough of it. It’s the little things that made home home. 

Feeling the wind graze past his forearms, his mouth couldn’t help but fall agar, admiring the unbearably bright artificial lights. His eyes darted all over the place, mesmerized by the view from afar, afraid that one careless blink would erase the sight and he’ll end up right back.

He continued to wander aimlessly, ignoring the repetitive vibrations sent from his button.

Leo desperately missed this. Letting out a raspy chuckle, his surge of adrenaline died along with his rapid footing. His peripheral caught a glimpse of his panting brother lagging behind. Slurring his footing, the red cladded brother doubled down next to him, wheezing and struggling to wipe the sweat from his scaly sideburns. Lifting his head up, lifted half lids met with furrowed brows.

“Quit it. Just 'cause we haven’t had a mission in a while, doesn’t mean you get'ta showoff.”

“Dramatic is my middle name,” his cocky smile followed with a playful wink.

Raph scoffed. The elder turtle shook his head in disbelief before leaning against the building railing, bandaged palm shielding away an oncoming smirk. It was a poor attempt, but Leo gives him an A for effort nonetheless. The city lights always looked good at night. Raph tapped on his communications button and asks Mikey where he's at.

“Yo Raphie! Don 'nd I will meet you soon. Magic Mike out.” The remnants of audio sizzled, leaving Raph groaning at Leo’s disapproved expression.

“C’mon, Raph. Buddy. Are code names really necessary at this point?”

Leo couldn’t help but snicker, hand covering his scrunched snout. He watches Raph place both hands on his hips, forcing him to strain his ears, but it's worth it to hear an exasperated exhale again. Course he knew the logic and purpose behind it, he wasn’t that inconsiderate. But when you have a brother constantly babbling on about said detrimental consequences if any of the brothers were to disobey the rules, then yeah, it’s bound to become a bore. He tried to listen to whatever combination of words spouted out of his brother’s mouth. Honest. But all it did was go through the other ear. Which is why Leo let out a sigh of relief, shoulders visibly slouched as he watched blobs of orange and purple steadily approach the duo.

Skipping to the beat of the distant background music, Mikey swung his arms around the red and blue duo, earning a head pat from the snapping alligator.

Leo turns to Mikey. "Food for thought, do you think code names make you sound stupid?”

Raph’s offended inhale sparked a barely contained laughter from Mikey.

“I thought you liked flashy appearances?” Mikey bumps his elbow at Leo. He elbows him back.

“Yeah, but why am I stuck with Captain Bluemask? It’s so stupid," Leo pouted. "Why couldn't just I stick with Neon Leon?”

Mikey pats his shoulder. “Nah man, sounds like a skill issue to me."

This time it was Raph’s turn to bark out a laugh, Donnie’s mouth curled upwards whilst typing from his wristband, secretly proud. In true Leo fashion, he planted his palm upon his plastron, careful to avoid any still healing fractures as a dramatic gasp escaped. Clearing his throat, the purple cladded brother interrupted the insuppressible sneers.

“As much I would like to poke fun at Leo’s intellect-”

“Hey now.”

“- it looks like someone beat us to it. Observe," Donnie cocked his head down the railing.

Everyone else craned their necks and observed the mess of fresh red and shadowed distressed pants. Slumped beneath flickering dimmed lights, it wasn’t difficult to pinpoint who the figure nursing their throbbing temple was. “Oh mi gosh… What’s he doing down here!?”

“Yeesh… it hurts just looking at the guy,” Leo and Mikey shared a winced look.

Snapping out of his daze, Raph redirected his focus towards the purpose of their mission. Even with everything going on, everyone still had to be wary and alert. They all didn’t want to repeat what happened in the previous months. “Alright, ya'know the drill. If Donnie says something’s up, we gotta check it out.”

“Wait! But… The pizza…” Mikey’s face fell slightly.

Movie marathon night was supposed to start half an hour ago, Leo remembered. It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out to Hueso's, and he was supposed to grab each respective pizza box before heading home. It’s not like him to turn a blind eye to freshly oven baked pizza (topped with newly harvested spinach leaves, a crucial factor restated by Donnie countless times) that was practically begging to be taken home and only to have a couple slices long forgotten, accompanied by the low hum of static TV and soft snores within the wee hours of dawn. But one mishap led to the other, and taking down two criminals led to four, and here they were: barely armored, yet lathered in minor injuries and sweat.

Donnie’s accelerated typing came to a halt. “Fear not Michael, my calculations have estimated that we have thirty minutes before closing hours commence. If our nightly pursuits end soon, we’ll collect our order in time.”

Mikey's eyes light up.

“Just a few minutes, yeah? It might be something worth looking into,” Donnie nodded his head thoughtfully to Raph’s suggestion.

The slider couldn’t help but pity the stumbling magician, grimacing at the once pristine white shirt now caked with ugly tears and dust. Confirming his decision, he hopped over the railings and made his way down, ignoring his older brothers pleads before following along. “Yeah yeah, what Dee said. I’ll lead the way, big man.”

Raph reaches forward. "Wait but not over the railings- LEO." But it's no use. They groan and whine about it, but it's not changing the fact that they follow behind. Leo hopes it won’t take long. He really doesn’t want to miss out on movie night again.

-

Hypno was having the time of his life, it wasn’t often that he would strike jackpot during his nightly scavenges. Not recently, that is.

Sneaking past the half-awake gazes of security guards, he would’ve applauded himself for avoiding trouble. It was evident that his stealth had improved by a drastic measure, if compared his performance throughout the years. And yet, the uncertain feeling remained in his stomach. He wasn’t surprised that the Hidden City’s security had been short on staff as of lately, but sighting no one but himself present? 

Slow evening, he considered.

Surely, a simple in-and-out thievery wouldn't hurt anyone. It’s not like anyone would miss it. Without requiring much wandering, it didn’t take long for the stage magician to locate the room he was looking for. Patiently watching the door creak open, his pupils dilated at the sight before him, pickpocketing equipment long forgotten within the storage unit filled to the brim with gold and silver and other expensive looking items. Venturing past ancient relics and pristine jewelry encased behind glass, the magician rummaged for whatever shiny grabbable object was within his vicinity. Ranging from large trophies to pearled necklaces to steel armor fell into his bag, tightening the strap before slinging it behind his shoulders. A shame that no one was interested in the history behind these objects, Hypno smirked, sliding his index along the dust coated shelves, slightly grimacing at the layer caked on his finger.

Warren was going to be equally pleased to find themselves out of the criminally shocking debt. To the surprise of no one, stealth beats luck (in most scenarios) for it beats the odds of getting caught. Too bad that didn’t apply for last month when he felt his eyes pop out of his sockets at the insanely large number imprinted on prison bail. In true Warren fashion, he clearly remembers him aggressively ripping the bill to smithereens. The hypo shuddered at that thought.

Just when he was about to stand, Hypno felt his stomach plummet, unable to shove the final remaining relic into his pocket. 

Hairs on the back of his neck stood straight, mouth dried and hung trembling, his voice caught in his throat, terrified that his suspicions of who was behind him came true had he turned around. Obstructing the only light source even more, a looming shadow approached the magician frozen in his track, soft thumps of his footsteps only to be heard amidst the absence of rummaging metal.

The size of the silhouette only grew bigger and bigger.

Move damnit, move! Quit standing around. Yet his racing heart refused to abide his internal monologue.

Then his frustration morphed into gut dropping fear. Forget finding ways to defeat those the rotten turtles and secure goods he bagged, who was going to perform his late-night magic shows? Admittedly his customer base has slowly declined, but no one could perform those crappy magic tricks and make those naive little toddlers' squeal uncontrollably. Or maybe he didn't want to admit that the tricks were blatant trash. But that's not it.

What would happen to Warren? Knowing his personality within the span of mere months living together, as roommates of course, he ponders how the chronically sarcastic worm was going to reach and get his favorite brand of 'cheap knockoff but rich' coffee beans when it's placed so ridiculously high for no reason. And it's placed in a cupboard with incredibly rusty hinges, so a lot of force is required to even creak it open. And he's not even a ft tall. And he personally insisted the bag of delights be kept within that cupboard and to stay that way. 

He likes to imagine the ex-news reporter eloping far away from society as means of evading tax after his mysterious 'disappearance', and decidedly made the conscience decision to live in the woods since the Hidden City police have eyes like hawks, only to be eaten alive by some wild animal-

Then the walking stopped.

For a brief moment, there was no sound, no shuffling of the feet. The night was still as ever, only the occasional squawk and skittish scatter of nearby crows perched upon roof edges could be heard. The maintenance of the dimly lit lights remained stable as ever. If it was anything other than that, the magician would've known something was amiss. Security guards not even attempting to guard the area, their groggy appearance and droopy eyes from working overtime suggesting an apathetic attitude from their boss.

Attempting to momentarily ease his anxieties, Hypno worked up the courage to face the culprit, gloves tightening beneath the expensive glassware. He was careless, not stupid. He took note of the neighboring hushed whispers and hunched shoulders of residents when discussing the topic at hand, serving as an indirect warning of the atrocities the mysterious person singlehandedly (allegedly) caused. Dangerous, unpredictable, uncontained. That’s what the lonesome anon was associated with. Not that he was planning on confirming whether those claims were true anytime soon, that is. Creasing his brows even more, he swiftly turned around and unleashed his attack in self-defense.

To his shock, his mouth shaped into a nervous laugh, beads of sweat trickling past his sideburns, viewing the sight before him.

From what should have been a menacing yokai or human standing before him, was replaced by the edges of his cards skewered into the opposing wall. The turtles won’t know what hit them with his latest prototype: cards with sharper edges. His eyes trailed towards the artificial light source above, periodically flickering during irregular intervals. How could he let himself get so psyched up? Of course, it was nothing. His mind was playing tricks on him once again.

He blames the cause of his anxieties from reoccurring visions of pink blobs and distorted shrill cackles. 

The lights above continued to flicker irregularly.

Assured with himself, he finally let out a sigh of content. From what could’ve been a disaster, he miraculously avoided it. A bag filled with goods and a booming ego spared. He was beyond relieved. Long were the days he and Warren would have to worry their heads over the dreadful overdraft sitting in the back of their minds. He was certain. He had to be.

So why is it that he heard the steady breathing of another behind him?

-

“And no one knows the identity of this individual? How fascinating, he says with unexpected surprise," Donnie deadpans.

A defeated sigh further concluded his answer, masked expression remained nonchalant as ever as he noted down the remnants of the magician's unfortunate encounter. Other than a bag deprived of weight and a bruised ego, both metaphorically and literally, the damage taken would only need a couple days and a handful of self-reassurance. Still, the matter at hand only expanded for the brothers’, as finding the remaining artefacts would serve as a challenge.

Not that Leo was worried or anything. Co-leader of MadDogz? Worried? How ludicrous.

“And if it weren’t for you, we would’ve gotten fresh, hot, cheesy pizza by now” Mikey bites at the magician. 

Hypno pauses. “Wait, so you don’t know? I presumed you turtles were working with him.”

Suddenly confused, Leo stepped away from Raph’s shadow and towards the struggling adversary. He let out an uncertain hum, brow raised in bewilderment as he dismissed the slight warmth bathing his scales from neighboring streetlights.

It wasn’t like the turtles’ were actively trying to avoid who did this, and who stole that. They were all just… preoccupied with external and internal challenges, leaving most and if not all bedridden. Leo ignores the internal aspect. Saving the world does wonders to Splinter, meaning that he could smother them all with attention and affection lost from previous years. If any of the brothers leaned into the touch of their father’s signature cuddles, then he didn’t mention it. Feeling the sharp tug of his strap, his alertness dispersed, huddling around his brothers to discuss the next course of action.

“I agree with boss man. My hypothesis concludes that whoever this anonymous individual is, inflicting enough damage to transform Hypno into Raph’s stuffed bear left alone with Mayhem-"

“Do I really look that pitiful?”

"Guuuys c'mon, your baby brother is standing right here. Literally STARVING."

“Don’t enable him, Leo.”

“Ugh. You guys just don’t get my awesome taste…”

It takes an extended metal arm, one whacked turtle and a pitched yell, for Donnie to get everyone's attention. Leo rubs the back of his head. “-may be worth pursuing. Plus, they may have what we’re looking for. You know, the thing?”

“What thing?” Mikey’s head tilted sideways, animated movements enhancing his cluelessness.

Leo knew they should’ve given it a code name, despite despising his current one, but did he want to risk his brothers’ perceiving him as the responsible one? Not over his dead body. With both arms clinged around both Raph and Mikey’s neck, he leaned forward. “Living for the Hypno slander, but no so much on the whole thing. Care to give a simplified version?”

“Begrudging sigh. We find whoever injured Hypno, equates to the increased chance of finding," Donnie bit back a groan. He leans and cups over his mouth. "The thing.” Turning his head right, Donnie whispers something to Mikey. The widening of his round eyes confirmed his question answered.

Placing a hefty pat behind their shells, Raph split from the huddled group before everyone else followed his suit. “Alright fellas, let's roll out and scavenge the area. Mikey, you’re with Leo. Donnie, you’re with me. And what do we do when we’re in trouble or find something?”

Leo groaned in annoyance. Staving off his older brother’s disinterested stare, Leo exaggeratedly pulled on his belt, the Hamato button reflecting upon the dimmed streetlights. Earning an approved grunt, the four scattered to two.

“Yo Mikester, I’ll be looking not far from you ‘kay?”

His calls earned two thumbs up before the box turtle's interest wandered to the abandoned mural in the far corner.

Just when the blue masked slider was about to leave the area, a heavy thud echoed behind as the familiar voice of a discomforted groan piled upon his annoyance. “Blue one! Wait! Please, just a minute of your time.”

Inhaling through his chest, Leo leaned against the wall unimpressed, transparent plaster patches accessorizing the hairline cracks of his shell brushed against the side of an empty dumpster. “Eugh boy… What now? I don’t have enough bandages on me, if that’s what you’re after.” Composing himself from his usual playful demeanor, he brushed any remaining dust upon his shoulder blades before forcing himself to stand upwards, hissing at the sliced wounds inflicted. How odd.

“Do tell. Is this your attempt at scaring me? 'Cause it’s not working.”

Nursing his scratched and beat temple, he let out an agitated sigh. “God, why do I even bother sometimes… Point is, you really need to be careful when approaching him.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

With no answer at hand, the slider scoffed, tails of his mask floating behind as he walked away. That is, before he heard a hesitant, “I’m afraid to admit this, because yes it does sound absurd, but I was… scared.” 

His brisk waltz towards the sharp corner of the brick wall halted. Out of all brothers, why was he stuck listening to Hypno’s mysteriously tragic monologue? Run of the Mill trading hours ended minutes ago, and movie night most likely would’ve been rescheduled due to their late-night outing. His night went from awesome to not, but maybe he could salvage whatever fun remained. He had time to kill. 

The prompt sway of a black cloak disappearing behind the sharp corner proved him right.

“Wished I was playing tricks on myself even,” his nervous chuckle fell flat on empty ears. “And he didn’t even look remotely out of the ordinary.”

The sight of the blue masked turtle was no more. He sighed, looking down. Twirling the stem of the golden glassware salvaged, the hypnotist’s attention lingered upon the reflection, shivering at the sight he saw before his attack. He doesn’t think he could sleep peacefully for the next fortnight without the sight of that piercing look.

“Those damn red eyes.”

-

Tuning out the background noise, Leo forced himself to close his eyes and take stomach deep breathes lest he wants himself to get caught.

One, two, three, four, in... hold, seven... out, eight, nine, ten. Repeat. 

“-Cap…mask… Wh- … re… yo…”

Note surrounding details. Ears alert. Stance ready.

Those were what Leo instinctively recited, internally chanting the phrase like a mantra as he pressed his shell further against the chilling cold surface of brick. No, he couldn’t think of that place now. There’s no time to relive those disgustingly agonizing memories. He had a new mission.

Straining his ears, the soft footsteps continued to walk further and further away, the swish of silk confirming his presence wasn’t just make-believe. Leo knew what he was doing was risky. But he also couldn’t carelessly disregard the motivations of someone that could pose a potential threat to the safety of his brothers’. The mere thought of his brothers’ suffering hammered remorse.

He wouldn’t let it happen again; not now, not ever, not again.

Peeking his head beyond the graveled surface, his shock was short-lived for he’d spotted who Hypno warned him about. Wanting to know more but also not wanting his brothers to feel the surge of panic, he begrudgingly slammed upon his metallic surface on his belt, the Hamato symbol reverberating the message. Who knew today of all days was the first time he used it.

Revealing himself from the shadows, he clumsily chased after the figure, muscles feeling marginally weaker from the lack of adrenaline.

The nightlife of the Hidden City always had this magical feeling of homeliness to the blue masked ninja. A variety of fluorescent pink and orange blended the locals amongst the chaotic nature, lanterns synchronising to the beat of occasional street performers and musicians hoping to allure the attention of unzipped pockets and wallets. He revelled in the popping and sizzle of deep fried street food, and the bargaining for a lower sales price, and the endless chattering. But as much as it comforted him, it didn’t exactly help him focus on catching up to speed.

Cursing the heaviness from his leg, he was determined to not lose sight because of a minor issue, his breath becoming more ragged as shoving and pushing nearby residents became increasingly difficult. Suggest Donnie a less bulkier leg brace, he noted to himself.

Slowly consumed by the sea of passerbyers, Leo was struggling to keep afloat, uncaring of the curious looks. No, it can’t be. He was so so close. Mere arm's length from reaching him. If only he could muster the energy to keep going for a bit longer, then maybe he could catch up to the stranger. And maybe, his brothers’ could place their trust on him once more.

“-Leo, answer back… Ple...”

Forcing himself to take another step, a strangled yelp left his mouth, catching a hold of himself before he embarrassed himself further. Lowering his head and shifting his leg left and right, he inspected the source of the problem, a disappointed sigh involuntarily escaping his mouth. Fuck. Dee was not going to be happy to see a loose leg brace, just because Leo ignored his carefully planned out instructions and pushed beyond his limits.

Lifting his head back up, he observed as the sight of the hooded head grew ever so distant and blurred amongst the lively evening. Couldn’t this night get any better, he snarked. Of course, he was practically begging for a lecture from Raph and Donnie. He was dying for it. Maybe he could convince Mikey to leave down Raph’s crevasse growing by the second.

Likely a lost cause, nothing worth thinking about. Yet, a disturbing chill struck the outline of his shell and spine, feeling the accelerated strike of his heartbeat once more but in a different way.

“Those damn red eyes,” Hypno’s words replayed in his mind.

He felt his breath be greedily snatched away from the calloused gaze studying his every movement. One moment he stood returning the stare, then the next he was gone. As if he was never there. Gone without a trace.

Who exactly are you, he whispered to himself.

Sometimes, Leo forgets that beyond his private sewer life consisting of three equally annoying and overprotective brothers, a rebellious sister, and a father attempting to undo his past mistakes, that there are so many people that don’t know him. So many lives experiencing their own ups and downs, and so many mundane stories living out the worst and the best and whatever's in between.

And sometimes, despite saving the world twice and appearing the most physically flamboyant (even with this stupid colossal looking brace hugging his left knee, he takes incredible pride in that) out of everybody passing by him, he’s just like them. Maybe he doesn't have three eyes, or six arms, or crazy long antlers, or appear green and goopy akin whatever species Sunita was scientifically labeled.

But he's the same as them, just like unsightly thick smoke unwavering against the strong tides of the wind, trying not to become drowned in the process of uncloaking the brightness of possible opportunities. People trying their damn best to live their life uninterrupted.

Which is why it was so important for him to reach for that black cloak; he felt like it was his duty to prevent the peace from ever becoming disrupted again. And once again, he failed to accomplish a single task alone.

Typical Leo.

Chapter Text

Despite the panic-inducing madness of planning out missions, one could appreciate the beauty behind it. 

It takes commitment and consistency and sheer will power, but if you stick with the basics, then the unidentifiable mess of ideas slowly becomes the physical manifestation of an achievable goal. On most days, debriefing a step-by-step mission went more smoothly than, not without the occasional banter and heated spars, but that's what adds flavor to a team. And according to Google, the textbook definition of teamwork requires a compliable team and a patient ear. 

Everyone has different interpretations of planning out ideas; some needing an extensive touch-down in order to feel satisfied, others needing only the fundamentals: breaking in and breaking out. 

Leo’s tactical strategies on the other hand, consisted of an impulsive urge and an accidental one man job. This was going to be a long night. Or morning, he contemplated, sparing a glance at the digital clock’s softly dimmed digits amongst the desolate grey.

“Sit down, Leo.”

“Raphie... I still don’t get why you guys are making this into such a big deal – ”

“Sit your ass down. Right now.”

Deprived of his signature blue mask and too tired to anything else, Leo’s shoulders were forcefully pushed down by purple fingerless gloves, accompanied by his twin's mutters and the soft creak of the medical bed (in actuality, it was just a spare mattress barely holding on for unprecedented visitors, because surely, Splinter’s couch couldn’t possibly be a cozy place for restful nights but himself.)

Leo snapped his head the opposite direction, not wanting his eyes to meet Raph’s deepened crevasse. He ignored the heavy footsteps tailing the snapping alligator, the way his tail swiftly wavered indicating the latter pacing back and forth; a tired frown replacing his typical snaggle-toothed smile. Mikey stood against the workbench. His fingers occasionally rubbed against the soft fabric untied from his face, the consistent tap of his heel soothing his wavering breath as he studied the divide between Raph’s protectiveness and Leo’s carelessness.

Wincing from the deathly squeeze of the brace wrapped around his leg, Leo didn’t hesitate to glare at Donnie. Couldn’t he have spared him some sort of sympathy? His twin brother only shot a look of indifference as a form of apology before tightening the strap even more.

He was about to retort a snarky response, when the glimpse of his purple coded twin left his mouth clamped shut. Deep in thought and with his glorious forehead bare for display, the darkness mounted beneath his squinted eyes became more apparent. The presence of Leo’s gaze remained unnoticed as his genius trademarked screwdriver methodically screwed and secured and adjusted the snugness of his knee brace, only briefly loosening it through actively listening for discomfort from the slider. 

Leo bit the inside of his mouth.

It wasn’t like he was actively seeking trouble. Did they really think he got a kick out of their dreadful reactions finding him barely keeping himself standing, paling at the sight of his entire being shaking like a leaf. Sure, he enjoyed casting himself under a light-hearted setting, no one could fulfil the job of a comedic relief better than he did, but even he knew the line where joking around ends. 

A shallow breath slowly inhaled from the other.

Aw shit, here we go again.

“I’m disappointed that you went beyond your limits,” Raph states. A small scoff left from the slider's mouth. Of course, only he would start off with saying that. What’s a perfect Raph lecture without his complementary ‘I’m not mad, I’m disappointed’ introduction. 

Raph looks at him exasperatedly. “No, don’t give me that look. Why do you think Raph wanted a buddy system?”

“Uh actually,” Mikey shifts his footing.

“It’s not Mike’s fault. I told him I was looking elsewhere and got sidetracked,” Leo admits.

Mikey’s previously guilty look immediately alleviated after Raph patted his head. Just like that, huh. He thinks it’s one of the many perks of being the youngest. In a sense, everything felt comical. For what should’ve been your typical father scolding his child situation, was replaced by his overworked brother.

Looking the other way, the slider was too focused on avoiding Raph’s glare burning into his shell to feel the loosened brace become replaced with a soft compression strap.

“We agreed that we would go on a mission if you didn’t overexert yourself.”

“It was a mistake. A minor mishap. Won’t happen again.”

The usual metal thickness flings into the background. “I don’t know what your definition of minor is, but it can’t be good,” Donnie interjects.

“But you did last month. And last week. And the day before,” Raph pleaded. “Raph is just so tired of seeing you patch yourself up. You’re my little brother, and Raph feels terrible for not protecting you.” And there he goes down the ‘I feel immense responsibility for your injuries despite having no reign over your actions so stop for my sake’ tactic. Seems like Raph has been taking notes from Doctor Feelings. Speaking of which.

“... Isn’t Micheal gonna pull out Doctor Feelings?” Leo hesitated.

Mikey shrugs with his semi cold slice of pizza in hand, his signature orange mask laid now beside the cardboard pizza box. “My job here is done, someone else beat me to it. Unless you want me to?”

“I’m good,” Leo quipped.

But seems like Raph isn't. “Who knows if something bad happened? Donnie might, but what if he couldn’t somehow!? Mikey couldn’t. Raph most definitely couldn’t!” 

“Then what about you guys!?” He snapped. He could feel a pair of hands tighten around his knees, grounding him but that wasn’t important to him at the current moment. “Why worry about me when Mikey can’t hold stuff without shaking badly! And- And Donnie literally can’t go anywhere without his battle shell. And look at you!”

His open palms direct at Raph. The alligator pauses.

“I’m not special. But you knew that, didn’t you.”

Raph scrunches his snout at his remark.

It’s been harder for Leo to ignore his pleas because everything he says sounds almost right. But he's not entirely in the exact. Why couldn’t he just see how hard he’s trying? Just like how Donnie uses TSL to speak and how Mikey paints to convey his emotions, Leo has his own way of showing his love for his family. 

Ignoring his comment, Raph warns him with a wary, “Kid, you gotta understand that you can’t go missing again. We can’t risk that, or else we’ll bench you like last time.”

“You’re joking. This has to be some sick joke, it has to be,” a breathless laugh left his cracked beak. “Says who.”

“Says me, and dad, and Mikey, and probably Donnie,” Raph’s stare down at him, the loose ceiling lights casting a looming shadow over the slider. “You just don’t get it, Leo. Ya still don’t. Cause if you’re gone, you need to realise it’s on… Forget it.”

Leo's eyes darken. He was about to say it again, wasn’t he? 

The strong gust of wind rattled the interior structure of the train carriages. The deathly silence was unbearably painful.

“But Raph gets where you’re coming. You saw trouble and did what you had to.” 

… What?

His previously hung head lifted instantly, wide eyes and stunned look meeting the curious gaze of his older brother. Was he hearing things right? That’s not what he usually says; he was expecting anything but that.

He watched as his brother walked towards the wall and leaned against it, turning around before nudging his head forward, signalling his full and undivided attention. The ceiling lights creaked above, only enough to shower an inconsiderable amount of warmth upon the snapping alligator's head and shoulders, enhancing the details of his subtle scar from years of roughhousing and combat. 

Leo pretends his eyes didn’t linger on the circular hole carved into his brother's carapace.

“Even if you think it’s nothing, I wanna hear what you saw! What did he look like? Was he fast?” Mikey chimed in, ignoring the lack of warmth from the pizza he chewed. 

“Micheal. The food rule.”

“Right right, chew with your mouth closed or you’ll release all hell for the next few hours. Got it.”

“Good man.”

Leo fiddles with his compression straps. If he squints closer, then he could make out the fraying holes peeking out, which goes to show how long he's consistently kept it for. Not that he favors familiarity and stability (that'll be another hurdle to tackle at a later stage), but because he's too lazy to get it replaced. Besides, it's black. “Y’know what, nah. Nevermind. You guys probably won’t even believe me,” he huffed, thumb rubbed against the edges of faint but almost healed scars upon his crossed arms. 

“Try me.”

Leo shot Mikey a singular raised brow before continuing on. 

“I- uh guess they were fast?” Leo stuttered, not expecting an immediate response. “Like. Really fast.” 

His animated descriptions met the attention of his brothers. One curious, two questioning the reliability of his recount.

He found his lips curled into a soft smile, watching his younger brother listen starry eyed as he opted to sit cross legged in front of him. He continued to recount the events that took place minutes before the chase, but not without adding dramatic sounds and suspenseful tone. The last few slices of meat lovers' pizza abandoned on the kitchen table.

“I applaud your detailed descriptions. Your minimalistic visual contributions will be immensely helpful to our mission,” Donnie deadpanned.

Leo rolled his eyes. “He wore a black cloak, if that helps.”

Donnie rolled his eyes, but still logged in the information into his wristband.

Contemplating to counterback his response, he realizes that the familiar voice of someone was missing. He whips his head. 

“Leo, Raph believes what you’re saying. Honest.”

“Then why is your judgmental stink reeking the place?” Leo looked at him with prudent eyes.

“It was dark. There was a big crowd. It could’ve been anyone.”

“Then why are you siding with Donnie?” He spat incredulously, lips curled into a slight snarl with eyes narrowed to slits.

Donnie rolls his eyes, arms slithering into his signature silk jacket. Not that Donnie has ever willingly let him or anyone wear it, not even through death, but Leo imagines how lifechanging the silky smoothness would feel. “I stick with statistics and facts, not opinions. Well, maybe it’ll help you develop a better spatial awareness.”

“Hardy har har. You’re such a comedian.”

“Oh so I’ve been told.”

Raph marches to him. Too caught up in the moment, he clenches both fists then releases it, replacing the urge to lunge at Leo. The tight hold strings out a squeezing sound. Leo glowers back. “Raph ain't taking sides. Ya'twisting words.”

“Am not! Why aren’t you-” A frustrated yelp came out of his mouth.

“You’re not listening to me!”

“We already are.”

“C’mon Don… now’s not the best time,” Donnie rolled his eyes at Mikey’s unimpressed look.

“No guys, think about it. What if we’re not looking hard enough? What if we brush it off and something bad happens again?” Leo looked at each brother, arms placed in front of him. “It can’t be just me, right?”

“Nothing bad is gonna happen. Raph will make sure of it,” Leo feels a familiar giant palm rest on his shoulders. He continued to stare at Raph.

And honest to whatever god is out there, that part of him wanted to believe his words. 

He was barely surviving the restless nights of unnerving chills from the desolate grey landscape, towering metal armor and blaring red laser. And somewhere deep beyond his overconfident personality, hid a timid kid, secretly wishing for his older brother to brush away his troubles with a firm hug and endless whispers of reassurance. Because that’s what big brothers do. They always know what to do. 

More so, it was the fact that Raph never seemed to agree with whatever came out of his mouth. Their talks felt too serious to be anything more than sibling rivalry, but never severe enough to blatantly ignore one another. 

Life constantly changes. Things changed. He changed, so Leo changed.

He brushes his palm off.

Inhaling another deep breath, Raph looks away from the group. With his left hand resting on his hip, his right preoccupied in nursing the brewing ache forming on the bridge of his snout. Leo tried to shrug off the awkwardness from both Donnie and Mikey, propping his elbow on his good knee before cushioning his face with his palm. 

He ignored how Donnie pretended to look away with disinterest, and dismissed the agitated tap of Mikey’s heel, and shunned Raph’s silent pleas to just listen to him. Because that’s what he knew best.

He knew the both of them hated when he and Raph fought, especially after Splinter’s surprise stunt of appointing Leo the role of team leader. Funnily enough, it almost felt like their fights were more strategically planned than their actual missions. His shoulders shivered at the memory of their previous arguments, cringing at how it initially started off petty and lighthearted. Leo would playfully taunt him, Raph would sneer back, then they would apologize through a game of competitive Mario Kart. But after the whole Shredder fiasco, it manifested into something uglier and more monstrous.

No matter how much water he tried to douse the scorching anger Raph fumed, it seemed to only do worse than good, forcing his words to erupt out of his sealed mouth and spread and snarl and yell and-

Needless to say, Leo much rather not think of that. He’d rather let the raging flames fester and roar inside of him. He's all grown now, it's not like he can't handle some discomfort. Besides, that was a long time ago and all is forgiven. Everything’s back to normal. So why did all those years of patient conversations have to come undone in a single night?

Breaking the ice, Donnie cleared his throat.

“Ahem, if I may interpose, gentlemen. Speaking of hypotheticals, IF this person does pose a threat - not taking sides - then I could always monitor surveillance,” he resumed typing on his wristwatch. “No, I’m not being sarcastic. I genuinely do have the system installed.”

Seems like twin telepathy was real. Leo - three, Donnie - zero.

“Wraps about everything? Good, ‘cause I’m feeling extra tired tonight,” patting down the stiff mattress, he arose to his feet.

Without the pressure clamped onto his left kneecap, the usual violent throb unexpectedly pierced his knee, sucking in a sharp inhale as he crumbled once again. Aw crud, he forgot to do his usual knee massage routine, didn't he? If he had remembered to stretch before Don fixed his brace, maybe it wouldn't have locked up this badly. He tries not to flinch at the pair of larger claws cushioning his fall. Cradling him like he was still young and invincible.

Stupid accelerated healing factor and its stupid medical side effects.

“Let's call it a night,” he averted his gaze, too embarrassed to face Raph’s pitiful worrisome eyes. He could feel them begging him to let his walls down.

“Kid, Raph doesn’t think that’s-”

“Goodnight. Please.”

The red-eared slider let out a long exhale, watching as Mikey gently tugged Raph from the scene and left the train cart, returning a strained smile as his orange coded brother mouthed goodnight.

Silently, Donnie levered his personalised crutch towards him, sending him a knowing glance before heading off to his own room, leaving Leo alone with the company of silence and the howling wind. If Donnie heard the way his voice wavered, he didn’t mention it.

The maskless slider reached for the underarm crutch leaned against the wall, rubbing the half faded stickers randomly plastered upon the shiny metal.

Metal. Cold. Alone.

Leo hopes that some miracle will help him have a well rested sleep.

-

“Pepino, todo bien? I thought you liked pineapple pizza?”

The firm squeeze on his shoulder snapped him out of his trance, a questioned hum slurred from his hunched position.

If he wasn’t sporting a half lidded stare and the heavy feeling weighing him down, then he would’ve noticed the split frown Huseo sent.

Leo was secretly glad Huseo couldn’t see the darker shades of purple beneath his eyes.

He looked around the place. How come the lights were brighter than usual? And he was sitting on firm but cushioned seat, rather than his usual blue sheeted mattress? And he could hear more… people chattering around?

His eyes wandered to the impatient ring of the desk bell, the restaurant entrance flooded with new batches of customers coming in and out.

Oh, that’s right. It was Friday. 

Usually, those weekly afternoons were solely reserved for the aftermath of extensive but worthwhile battles, soothing their wounds with generous slices of either Meatlovers or Hawaiian. But on this typical Friday, they all collectively agreed to celebrate their lack of leads with a trip to Huseo’s. A win is still a win.

“Hueso? Wha… huh? Yeah? Yeah. I uh, I know,” he threw his arms back and threw on his lazy smile, attempting to compose his fatigued demeanor. His slices of pizza remained untouched in front of him. "Just feeling a bit full."

Hueseo raised a brow.

“Uh, Leo?”

The noisy chatter within their small circle diminished, attention suddenly directed towards the sweating slider. 

Raph’s questioned gaze lingered, digging deep into his soul. A spark of heaviness flickered beneath his plastron. He swallows thickly. Now isn’t the time to unpack those complicated feelings.

Sparing the slider, a slow exhale shot through his nostrils before Huseo averted his eyes, warding off the attention from Leo, “Nevermind. What are you boys even talking about?”

Huseo always seems to have a natural charm on him, because Mikey’s smile stretched further, “Oh! We were just talking about who beat up Hypno.”

“Debating. But nonetheless, Michael is indeed correct.”

Donnie fills him in on what happened weeks prior.

Huseo flattens the creases of his sleeve cuffs, occasionally humming thoughtfully to convey his attention. Leo needs to find a time later to properly thank him for the quick save.

“And ya’ll are sure we shouldn’t call Case? He’s future boy, ain’t he?”

“That’s a last minute option, remember?” Mikey pats his brother’s arm in response to Raph’s confused expression. “Cause think about it. He legit travelled back to the past, well, not our past, but you get my drift? The guy’s stressed and deserves a long awaited break with April and her parents.”

The sound of a long sip stretches out with the conversation, Donnie subconsciously chews on the bendy straw of his flavourless juice. “He also needs to get his citizenship approved. That is, if he wants to graduate.”

With only 6 months of arriving, everyone was ready to rely on Casey as a source of reliability to defeat the Kraang, and they were a fool if they didn’t. The entirety of his existence sent both the space time continuum and Donnie to shambles, for he was the living walking proof that the prospect of magic, was indeed real and could co-exist with science. Yet, no one could really say they were prepared to coach an equally traumatised teen, bed-ridden with ‘what-ifs’ and ‘if only i could’ve done this’.

Leo twirls the edge of the diner table cloth around his finger. And to his great displeasure, the checker patterned red-and-white table cloth suddenly feels too rough, and the ceiling lights too blinding, and the overly sugary taste of his previous drunken peach juice replaced with a dull metallic.

In an attempt to divert focus from him and his internal dilemma, it almost felt like there was a lightbulb that formed above his head.

“Dunno what to tell you D, I think Raph is onto something," Leo stifled his laughter at the way Donnie's head snapped to his direction. "My appetite was sooo ruined because of what you said."

A devious grin formed on Leo’s face, watching with amusement as a small twitch formed beneath Donnie’s waterline. He loved it when he pushed his buttons because he’s the only person who knows how to. Downright luck due to experience or twin telepathy, take your pick. Leo personally chooses the latter.

Donnie can go on for hours and refute how twin telepathy contradicts the very essence of biological science itself, maybe he'll pull out a presentation filled to the brim with unnecessarily complex words and reasons, while accompanied by a sprinkle of analytics because why not. Regardless of his attempts, his poorly masked crooked smile whenever Leo announces them as twins never fails to negate the soft-shell’s previous statements.

A large grin forms on Raph’s face. “See! Now ya talkin’ Raph’s language.”

A pulse protrudes from Donnie’s forehead.

“Dearest Raphael, we’ve been through this time and time again. No, it’s scientifically impossible for the guy to be a bird.” The purple masked turtle sends his twin a death glare.

“Why not?”

“Because I said so. And because my judgement is always 95.5% correct.”

“What ‘bout the other percent?”

“We don’t talk about that.”

“Is it because of that time you were with April at Witch Town-”

“AHEM. Of course it is… n’t. Any who. Back to the matter at hand, gentlemen.”

“Tee bee ache, I wouldn’t call 2 weeks a long time,” Mikey ‘accidentally’ snags Raph’s unsupervised slice of Meat-Lovers. Leo could feel Huseo’s gaze periodically spare him attention, his bony fingers tapping to the beat of the bustling atmosphere.

Leo shifts in his cushioned seat.

“Scientifically speaking, I can say with confidence that you’re wrong. Based on previous readings, I can conclude he ISN’T a bird. The marks left are too deep, the patterns are the opposite of uniform…”

“Here we go again.”

An indignant gasp left Donnie’s mouth.

“Pardon my French, but fuck you mean ‘here we go again’?”

“Donnie! How many times do I have to remind to of your langu- sigh. Raph doesn't have the energy for this.”

“Owning up your loss against your triumphant younger brother?”

The hefty scrap of wooden legs shifted. A heavy weight leans in on Raph's side.

“Fine. Go on.”

“Marvellous. Now to begin…”

Leo twirls the straw from his half empty cup of peach juice still bubbling and fizzing.

No one could really get Donnie out of his speech mode, but it wasn’t a bad thing. Still, if his latest hyper-fixations helped battle his sleepless nights then so be it. Meanwhile, it seems that everyone’s invested in their own interpretations and busting to get their thoughts out, ready to debunk the others' comments. 

Leo would from time to time throw his five cents, whether it be joining in the collective group laugh or pretending to scoff at Donnie’s overly analytical comment.

And for a while, Leo felt at ease despite his figure sandwiched between his twin and younger brother. 

But it’s difficult to keep focus when the monster comes looming out of the shadows, finally given the opportunity to strike his unsuspecting self. The slider clenches his jaw, constricting the now wrinkled tablecloth.

The sound of chatter stills. The creeping chill comes back, but Leo doesn’t move. Frozen like a deer in headlights. He definitely doesn’t want to cause a scene over something small like this again, especially if it was nothing. 

You’re overthinking it, he reassures himself.

So when he finds his breathing suddenly labored, Leo remembers to inhale deeply from his ribs, hold, before exhaling through his nostrils.  

He thinks back to the time Mikey taught him the box breathing method with a determined look, making it even harder for him not to burst out laughing at the sight of his little brother’s arm mobility limited to only moving in a one eighty-degree motion. But despite it all, he learnt that there was a way to battle times of sudden breathlessness.

It makes him wonder how many lonely battles Mikey had to fight himself.

But the soft wandering chill doesn’t stop. It slithers past his shell like a snake, phantom feeling depriving him of warmth even as cold blooded. Leo takes everything in him to not shudder at the neck prickling unpleasantness sneaking behind his nape, forcing himself to ignore the slow finger-like drag of something metallic behind his wooden seat. Ugh. Why does he have to ruin the good moments?

Leo can’t remember the last time he felt at ease. Only, the last time he recalls someone reminding his purpose in the group, was within the trembling infrastructure, cramped between rumble threatening to fall and a stranger he knew for less than 24 hours.

The slider recalls hunching over his looming shadow, methodically massaging his bruised knuckles to ease the erratic beat drumming inside. Looking away as Casey aggressively waved his arms before him, his sharp words reduced to white static. Squeezing his eyes tight, hoping the screaming and yelling and fighting and bloodshed would disappear within a blink, and he would find himself nestled between his brothers watching Jupiter Jim for the nth time while messily crunching on slightly burnt, but delicious popcorn regardless.

The desk bell repeatedly rang but louder, the tapping foot and crossed wings of the bird yokai conveying her irritation. 

In a comical fashion, Leo lifted his head with a distant look, his iron grip yet released from the cloth.

Distant arguing could be heard, before the abrupt sound of violent clattering pots and pans pierced the incoherent afternoon discussions from customers. Moments afterwards, the kitchen doors hazardously swung open as the rapid dash of a yokai waiter emerged from the chaos brewing within. His palm waved away the remaining smoke obstructing his vision, attempting to not cough up a lung in the middle of the room through his fist.

The poor guy looked like he was about to pass out.

He bolted past groups of tables before his own, spinning and twirling in a hazardous way that would’ve made conversations stop and heads look twice at the scene before them. The slider stifled a chuckle. He could’ve sworn that he saw literal flames eat away both the food and frying pan.

Everything happened so fast yet so slow. It didn’t feel real.

Sprinting at such speed, anyone would’ve suspected that he was bound to run into trouble and make a fool of himself sooner or later. It just so happened that Leo was amidst the crossfire.

With an unfortunate attempt to squeeze through the small gap between his table and the other behind, a small yelp left the slider’s mouth as he fell towards the floor, dragged by a blur of white. 

Just perfect. He grimaced at the ache blooming at his shoulder. 

If he had known that he was going to experience ghost bear's slammer, then maybe he would’ve caved into the idea of staying home. Perhaps he should’ve admitted to Raph that he was in desperate need of extra bed rest because of the stupid stunt he pulled weeks ago. He would say that having a knee dislocated and shattered into several pieces has its perks, but the god-like shoulder slap by a certain Dr Delicate Touch made him profusely sweat.

Leo inaudibly groaned.

Who was he kidding, all he wanted to do was enjoy pizza with his brothers without feeling like a drag.

“Oh my god!? I’m so sorry, are you alright?”

Woah, okay. Hold up. Let’s take a few steps back and regroup team. That’s most definitely not a voice he was expecting to hear.

His previously pent anger immediately dispersed as the slits of his mask equally widened with the waiter’s. In spite of his thick accent, the yokai’s frantically waved palms in front of him were enough to convey his apologetic message, sympathetically watching him trying to assess the damage done. Clearly, his focus was more on Leo rather than the impatient customer.

And despite all the chaos around him and his worried tone of his brothers’, all he could think about was how soft the waiter’s palms were. How he wanted to feel them again.

The metallic finger scrapping behind his seat vanished.

“Y-Yeah, I’m…”

“Good? I’m good. I mean, that’s good! I- ugh. Ignore what I said. So sorry again!”

Without letting him finish, the waiter pulled the slider up to his feet, forcing his palm to clamp on the table edge to stabilise his balance before running off to his designated location.

Breathless but poorly attempting to mask his exhausted state, the waiter arrived before the customer could tap the desk bell once more, shoulders hunched to support himself upon the counter. His muffled apologies go unnoticed as the bird yokai continue to trill about how his incompetence resulted in her family’s immeasurable disappointment (they seemed contempt enough to wait another 5 minutes) and demanded the presence of his manager. A deep sigh seeped past his pursued lips before he pulled out his notepad, monotonously jotting down the ridiculously long order sprung out of her beak.

Blue cloth tying his ears together. Slightly scuffed uniform. Slightly crooked but distinguishable buck teeth.

Leo couldn’t help but mentally note that down.

“Ready to leave, Pepino? You don’t want your brothers to wait for you.”

The tails of his mask swished in front of his eyes, his head turned to sight the enthusiastic wave Mikey signalled him. His other brothers stood behind and deeply invested in their comical debate. Raph didn’t like intellectually in depth conversations, everyone that knew him obviously knew that the guy was pretty straight forward. But if it meant that he could see Donnie’s defeated frown, then by pizza supreme he was going to fight for it. Time flies by when you’re having fun, Leo supposes.

Turning his head the other direction, the rabbit snaps the notepad shut before his guiding hands and a strained smile directs the family of 5 to the next available table. One moment the rabbit was handing out menus (the bird yokai snatched it out of his hands. Ouch much?) then the next, he was offering assistance to nearby customers. 

For a split second, the waiter shot Leo a shy smile and a quick wave. Leo’s eyes never left him, even after the rabbit yokai scurried off. His responding wave met with silence.

“I’ve never noticed him before,” Huseo’s attention follows Leo’s wandering eyes.

Even when he looked like he could drop dead at any moment, he powered through and dismissed the hushed whispers from the bird yokai’s table, wings shielding their uncontainable sneers. Instead of sparing a glance at the trouble stirring from that table, the rabbit yokai looked straight ahead at the table requiring his assistance and gave the duo his undivided attention.

Leo wonders how he does it.

Hurrying along with dishes hand in hand, his quick footing directed him to each respective customer. Too caught up in the moment to recognise the trajectory of his reputation, a foot stuck out at the last second from beneath the table, causing him to stumble and trip. Leo hopes everything ends up alright, and silently crosses his fingers that the rabbit yokai miraculously landed perfectly fine with unharmed dishes, wowing the perpetrator and the collective customers surrounding and earning him a round of applause.

He squeezes his eyes shut, forcing him away from the source of shocked gasps and the splatter of something wet. 

“Ah. So you’ve noticed. That’s Usagi, our newest addition,” Huseo attempts to mask his wince.

The skeleton yokai looks down at the slider. Leo hums in response. 

He swallows, choosing his next words carefully. “When customers weren’t able to come by during those uh, previous months, it also meant that my restaurant’s revenue declined and hiring HR became difficult. And as much as I disliked Piel, Run of the Mill was something we agreed on and opened together; so I tried not to let my business die out. It was the least I could do. Besides, how else can I pay Jr’s college fees if my favourite customers couldn’t come by?”

A bony elbow to the side earned a light chuckle from the slider.

“Just when I needed casualties to replace my usual employees, it just so happened that he was at the right place and time. Not the steadiest but he gets the job done.”

The sound of a groggy groan pierced the muffled cackles. 

A set of bony palms padded his clothed shoulder while his other curled around the plastic bag of steaming hot goods. Huseo brushes him off saying he just bagged it for him, and Leo plays along pretending he didn’t see the perfectly wrapped box of pasta the skeleton only does when he’s feeling worried. The slider knew that his offer to the restaurant was his way of mother henning. Not that he minded though.

He doesn’t need to voice out his thanks for Hueseo to understand his appreciation goes far beyond.

The skeleton yokai turn his back towards the disaster.

“I should probably save him from further embarrassment. Come visit Boneman more, Pepino.”

He stopped himself from pushing the door open all the way. He couldn’t care less. But maybe it was the way his face deflated and the sudden scrunch of his button nose, forcing himself to stand with his chest and arms and pants weighed by the thick slob of tomato sauce. Or maybe it was watching Usagi miserably attempt to salvage whatever’s left of his ego, that made Leo want to run back and help him and fend away those side eyes, had the throbbing soreness of his knee prevented him from doing so.

There was this nagging feeling inside, begging him to stay alert and vigilant for he had missed something crucial. 

“Say, you wouldn’t happen to need another-”

“Finish that and I’ll personally request an extra month of physical therapy.”

Chapter Text

“Nardo, I know you’re giving me that look.”

“Glad to know because how long are we gonna have to wait?”

“Why, do I hear you questioning me, brother dearest? I am a man of my word. If my techwear SPECIFICALLY designed and trademarked by me, entails that our fellow anon will be arriving within the hour to scavenge who knows what, then we will wait by the hour. End quote. Full stop.”

“Uh huh. Right.”

“Science mustn't be rushed, achieving my hypothesis even more. The end results must be precise and exact, otherwise it won’t be reliable! Thought that was a known fact?”

“Yeah ok. But like, that’s what you’ve been saying-”

“Up up up.”

“For the past”

“Up up.”

“Hour.”

“Up.”

Leo pushed away the metal claw itching towards his face.

Days beforehand, he and his brothers discussed the next course of action to find where their cloaked vigilante ventured off to. So he nodded his head and mindlessly agreed to whatever nerdy math numbers Donnie concocted from his finding. 

Though, it was more of a ‘raise your hand if you feel like travelling from point A to point B’ and less knuckling down with a grim look and a written plan. 

The tiny voice in the back of his mind screaming to stay alert, even when his brothers aren’t. He wishes there was an off switch for his brain.

And yet, they could never seem to be at the same place and time with either a minute too late or a location too far, only to be wandering aimlessly without a hooded figure in sight. Like he somehow heard of their plans and hid amongst the shadows before swiftly evading them in plain sight.

Enough was enough before Donnie started analyzing every pixelated movement and body temperature signatures, even going as far to mapping down locations with his triangular gripped pen only used for special occasions, only with the help of a couple jabs in the ribs by a certain someone. The slider pleads the fifth. And a couple hours later, was when his brainiac of a twin finally emerged from his den reserved for conducting ethically questionable experiments - but also known as his room. The neatly folded paper of vibrant red circles in multiple buildings should be a massive indicator.

To Donnie’s demise, all he could conclude from the observed data was petty thievery, knocking a couple residents cold before disappearing into the shadows, rinse and repeat. But overall, no big crimes. 

So far so good. 

For the past 3 hours, Donnie suggested the only way to get to the bottom of this finding the mysterious figure, is through the old fashion way: camping behind and around sketchy buildings. Just like that, everyone scattered to their selected location, with Donnie and Leo sticking with the high ground of the infrastructure, and Raph and Mikey on the low ground. And within that time span, Leo had already recited every escape route and possibilities that could happen tonight, with the addition of tallying every car that fell victim to several potholes. 

“Raph, the girls are fighting,” the familiar snort from his younger brother made the slider roll his eyes.

“Can it, Mike.”

“Raph also wants to ask, but when’s the guy comin’?”

Facing away from Leo, Donnie adjusted his headphones. Leo opted to swinging his legs hanging high from the building’s ledge, swinging back and forth. Even through the heavy static, he could hear the agitated drumming of his older brother’s claws against something hard. A brick wall, he assumes.

“Well since you asked so nicely,” Leo side eyed him. “He should be in about– Oh wow. Now, actually.”

Finishing up his conversation, he switched off his communications and scavenged the area left and right through the lens of his asymmetric goggles, occasionally looking down at the marked map. 

Leo stared off into the distance.

“Do you think Raph ‘n Mikey can decipher whatever you wrote?”

Donnie briefly looks down at the message Mikey sent him.

“Ignore me, fine. Be like that. But for real. D, you know I trust whatever comes out of your big, beautiful brain of yours, right? Well, most of the time. And don't get me twisted, I also wanna have a little chitchat with him. So, from hermano to hermano, twin to twin, I just. I dunno. Are you sure? Like, are you sure sure, because the chances are looking kinda low tonight. Hate to break it to you, but I guess the truth hurts sometimes.”

All Leo got in return was a smug look.

“Uh... aren’t you gonna say something back?” Donnie held a singular finger to Leo’s beak, folding away the paper. Annoyed, Leo pushes his arm down. “Alright, what gives dude!?”

“Any second now.”

“You know I hate it when you're so cryptid. What do you mean by-”

Leo pauses.

“... He’s here, isn’t he?” Leo drags his palm upon his face, not wanting to see Donnie’s victorious smile.

As predicted, the sound of scattering feet and labored breathing tore the tranquil atmosphere. The duo watched as a group of teens no less than a few years younger than them, frantically scrambled out of the dark alley and into the dim lit streetlights. From an outsider’s perspective and out of context, it would’ve been your typical neighborhood shenanigans in the Hidden City, where now would’ve been the perfect time for stupid kids to pull off petty crimes and get away with it.

Leo was about to comment on how crazed each one looked, more specifically aimed at joking how one of them fell flat on their face, when a gloved palm muffed his speech. 

A low whistle shot through the thick air.  

One of the teens looked back at his fallen teammate, sweating profusely as he debated whether to help her or experience the possibility of not seeing tomorrow. Her hand shakingly trembled to grasp for his, undeniably signaling him to help her. The mouse yokai gasped in disbelief as she watched him bolt away and join the others, leaving her fending for herself, barely limping away into the darkness of a cornering alleyway before the whistle grew louder and closer to her.

With the sound of her exhausted pants slowly merged with the faint buzz from the lamppost, and so did the soft footsteps. The whistling abruptly stopped. 

Licking his palm just for the fun of it, Leo amusingly watched as Donnie looked at him then the wet spot of his purple gloved palm in disgust, before the slider peered over at the source of the noise.

A small notification popped up.

“We heard him going to the right. You guys, be careful. Meet you there soon,” he stops squinting his eyes from reading the message aloud and turns to Donnie. 

“The right side? But isn’t that where that sketchy chemist guy usually is?”

Donnie switches his tech-gauntlet and phone to silent mode.

“Before interest rates increased and the government collectively marked the Hidden City victim of capitalism? Noo, definitely not,” Donnie’s sarcasm lasted for a fleeting moment before he unapologetically swiped his palm on Leo’s arm. “And you’re so disgusting. Absolutely barbaric. Do you have any idea how many germs and bacteria came into contact with my palm today?”

“I’m building my immunity.”

“By pizza supreme you’re insufferable.”

“Yada yada. C’mon, don’t want to keep us waiting you guys,” Mikey’s voice buzzed through Donnie’s watch.

The duo proceeded to slide down the nearby fire escape. “Got it. Let's roll out, team!” 

His attempts to act serious was rudely interrupted by muffled laughs from both ends, mocking his efforts to emulate a deep gravelly voice. One like Raph’s. Maybe it's a tell-tale sign to not permanently use his older brother’s catchphrase. 

He’ll brainstorm more once he gets home. He lightheartedly punches Donnie in the arm, clearly making no impact on his twin’s uncontained laugh.

-

Having been assigned the team medic from birth, Leo was the most experienced with patching up his brothers from a rough housing gone too wild. With Donnie squeamish at the mere sight of blood, Raph’s claws too big to even peel a band-aid open, and Mikey too young, all injuries were appointed for the slider to resolve.

So naturally, it also meant that he was the most knowledgeable of the chemist's layout, knowing where the hidden corners were on the security cameras and how long it takes for the store manager to wake up from his nap. He hasn’t paid a visit to the place in ages for reasons he doesn’t want to get into, but whenever he does it’s usually to restock on medical supplies while snagging a couple bags of assorted flavored jellybeans he knows Mikey likes. Nothing drastic, just the usual tidbits to get by the week: toiletries, bandages, brand new syringes, you name it. 

Well, not that he needed to after April and her family generously donated their questionably large amounts of first aid. Bless their souls. 

Donnie makes some snide comment about how abandoned the place looks, considering it was barely holding up with only two wooden pillars shaking beneath the weight of a thick slab of roof.

But he was expecting it to look deserted per usual, not on the verge of falling. From top to bottom, no one would’ve guessed that the place was still up and running if the nauseating neon lights shining inside weren’t a dead giveaway. The boarded window displays and graffitied slogans welcomed an uneasy feeling, the interior probably no better. Yet the closer the duo warily approached the store, the more Leo could see every microscopic chip of paint peeling away, ignoring how the paint gave off an unbearably toxic stench. 

They walk past wanted papers of the same hooded vigilante cemented onto passing light poles and building complexes.

The duo pressed the sides of their heads to tune into the commotion going on inside. The blue masked ninja nudged the other towards the dim light shining through the cracks of boarded windows, gesturing him to peer through and see what was going on inside. A string of panic-stricken pleads emptied out from the manager's mouth before he too made a mad dash for the nearest exit, busting open the door and not turning back to witness the pair eavesdropping. 

The crinkle of plastic bags suggested their target was still occupying the space.

He felt a nudge by his side.

Raph and Michael snuck into the back exit. Donnie signed.

Leo nodded. If Donnie was right, then it was a good thing that the other two stationed themselves at said area. That way, if the perpetrator were to find himself in a pickle, then the only way out would have been either up through the air vents, or through the hordes of fists to the face lest he tried something funny. 

Should we chat him up inside or out?

Donnie shook his head and signed back. Not inside. The building’s too old. We fight with even a bit of force and all of us get trapped inside.

He leaned forward. Time for plan B. Leo furrows and continues to chew the nail bed of his thumb. Think Leo, think. Time is ticking and they all need to get moving before the opportunity becomes lost again. We need to get him talking, but the chances of a fight breaking out are too high, besides, we’re taking on a large gamble since we don't know if he knows where the artefacts are. 

Urgh what to do… what to do?

“Target at aisle 3. Smashin’ time, Bluemask?” The message elicited a sudden ping from Leo’s phone.

He really needs to tell Raph to quit it with the stupid nickname. It's not that's he isn't glad that he’s reminded that he doesn’t have to do things alone, but right now is possibly one of the top three most inconvenient times.

“Oh shit! Shit shit shit,” Leo jolted out of his thoughts, clammy fingers trying to find the silent feature on his phone and cursing himself for not switching it off earlier. 

The rummaging halts.

Leo scrambled to find Donnie’s arm, squeezing for comfort and any sort of reassurance whilst ignoring the way his twin rolled his eyes and swatted his arm away. This was a part of the plan. Totally. And no, he wasn’t going to let this chance slide again. Him and his brothers didn’t camp in questionable places for hours on end JUST to let it go to waste within mere moments.

Did you think he noticed us? Leo tried to lighten up the mood.

At the sight of your hideous face? Most likely passed out in the process.

Leo miffs a small groan. 

Instead of focusing on a quick comeback like he usually does, he spares a moment to internally pray for the best outcome, fingers and toes crossed. Hoping to gain even the tiniest, most vaguest bit of information. Hell, he’ll even do Raph’s laundry after training for a week if it means that they could get something out of him. It’s obvious he’s definitely not looking forward to facing the thick stench of sweat, anyone would have the same reaction – but it’s a small price to pay. 

He looks back at Donnie and he looks the same as ever, impassive and unamused, but he knows deep down that he's not feeling nervous without a twinge of uncertainty because what the actual hell did they get themselves into this time.

Their breaths still.

There it is. That familiar whistle they heard not too long ago. But rather than hearing it from an earshot distance above and with guaranteed safety, they’ve got themselves seated with first row tickets to hearing it within mere walls apart and an indefinite promise to make it home without major injuries.

The anticipation was quite literally killing him. So Leo did a double-take.

Not to be dramatic, but he was mustering his energy to see past the insanely small cracks boarded by wooden boards. Whoever boarded them up must really not have wanted any customers. Or they didn’t have a choice.

The neon bright lights flicker a headache throbbing amount, slightly swinging despite the deserted area producing no breeze. But at least he can see clearer with who he’s dealing with. Beneath stood their cloaked target, back faced away as packaged items and supplies laid scattered around his short stature, one hand clutching the source of the crinkling plastic noise as the other pulling away his clothed mask.

Besides the shelves from aisle 4 and onwards diagonally fallen, it’s safe to assume that enough damage was done to safely declare that they needed to step in, or someone else will sooner or later.

The whistling stops and he pulls his mask up, letting his hand fall, before he resumes his fiddling with his bag of stolen goods.

Oh, so he’s just dumb.

 Leo chokes out a relieved sigh, still observing the figure rummage his bag filled to the brim, assumingly to see whether he can stuff the bag with more goods.

Before Leo could safely hit Raph a reply back, he decides to see whether he’s moved or not, making sure he’s still in the middle of the store. He’s right, he is still standing in the dead centre with a bag in hand now swallowed by his worn cloak, but that’s not the worst part.

Leo’s mouth goes dry, unable to tear himself away from the sight before him because if he does, he fears that something bad’s going to happen. Maybe it was a good thing they didn’t find him before, maybe not. But what matters at this current moment is how for the first time in a long time, which was exactly six months and twenty-three days and sixteen hours and forty-two minutes ago, Leo feels unnerved.

He’s staring right at him. 

Ceiling lights flickering upon that Vermilion shade. Intensely looking right back at him. Unmoving. 

And within that split second of flickering lights, the lights go out then on and the scene looks as if some random stray animal was on the loose with the store owner unable to catch up to its speed.

“Oh my banana pancakes.”

Leo twists his head.

“Huh? What’s up?”

“He’s gone. I-I look away for one millisecond and he’s just… gone,” Donnie breathlessly chuckles, twisting one of his lenses to zoom into the details of the whereabouts before him. “Incredible. My interest has peaked, but that’s physically impossible. It couldn’t have been Hypno’s gimmick, illusion’s don’t show heat signatures. 

He slants the googles below his eyes.

“So it seems like he was telling the truth.”

Donnie finishes scanning the area high and low and sideways, flipping it to its designated spot upon his head before muttering to himself. “This is the first time in yokai history, at least documented, that I’ve ever met nor seen someone that just. Ran. So fast?”

“Or flew.”

Donnie roughly shoves him. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Leo chuckles before falling into a trance.

He scratches the back of his hand. No, he can’t just call up his other brothers stationed in the back area, in case it was their target’s intentions all along to make their grand escape. But no, he doesn’t think he and Donnie could one-up their cloaked vigilante in just one night, he knows too little about the other’s abilities and he plans to play his cards right.

And as much as he hates to admit it, they’re running out of time. 

They can’t afford to make careless mistakes or they won’t make any progress. He’s feeling alright for the time being, but he can still him in the back of his mind, reaching out to him, sending little reminders to never let his guard down. Every night’s getting worse and it breaks his heart knowing that all his family could do was provide their unconditional love and support. 

“Talk to me, Nardo.”

His twin looks at him with interest, looking sideways before signalling the two of them to crouch. The slider places a hand over his mouth.

“Wh– what if we went in and took a peak? He could still be in the store and maybe hid in a blind spot? Or in the air vents? Maybe he’s in a separate aisle, D.”

“Unlikely. My goggles don’t detect any movement. At least, not yet. And we should’ve felt any sign or wave of mystic energy, had he encountered our brothers in the back. Or the place would’ve gone crumbling down through Raph’s supersizing ninpo.”

The brothers shared a small chuckle before falling silent.

“It’s too dangerous, you know that.”

“But…”

“We’ll find all three of the missing pieces one way or another.”

A palm hesitantly reaches out.

“Promise?”

“Guaranteed.”

Donnie squeezes his hand, suppressing the urge to pull away from the dry texture of the other’s scales while noting to himself to request April that she bring back a moisturiser souvenir when she and Junior comes back, but also because it gives him the opportunity to expose him for having crusty scales in front of everyone. But if it means that it’ll ease the slider’s mind from running a couple miles, then he can suck it up and eat sandpaper.

Leo gives him a smile shy of doubt and it takes everything in Donnie to not look like he’s at a loss. So he just inhales deeply. Like he’s trying to relish the moment despite the circumstances because he can’t remember the last time his brother actually smiled.

And before Leo could even muster the courage to say another word, he forgets that midnight is nigh and it isn’t quiet enough to hear a pin drop, but also not turbulent enough to barely hear whatever Donnie or his brothers are saying. So logically speaking, it would make him stop in his tracks when he hears rattling above.

–

“Dunno Mike, those two are starting to get Raph worried. Leo hasn’t replied in ages, and he usually replies straight away,” the snapping alligator’s shell bumped against the brick wall, his index finger tapping against the concrete steps beneath. “Raph even told him that Sydney Allen was gonna go live on his so-shell feed and he’ll miss out if he doesn't reply.”

Seems like his Raph-casm was growing stronger by the day.

Mikey sympathetically pats his carapace.

“Chillax big guy, they’re probably goofing off no biggie. On the plus side, they’ll be back before you know it.” 

A ping sets off.

“Oh! Speaking of which, that must be Leo.”

Raph shuffles closer behind him, as Mikey walks a step down the stairs and sits beside him. “You think they found somethin’ good? And what did you say the first thing we gotta find is?”

“Candles. That’s what Drax said, but I just don’t get how we’re gonna find that at,” the eye holes of Mikey’s mask narrow. “A store selling only medical supplies and that conditioner April likes because it’s cheap. 

“Raph was more thinking of a candle shop, or the dollar store at best.”

“Well, if it were that easy, then Leo. Leo wouldn’t have to.”

Mikey tries to find the right words to say, but all that was said were unspoken words and a lodge in his throat.

The ornate box turtle doesn’t have to look up to know how his older brother’s feeling; the slow sway of his tail says it all. So he opts to rubbing circle motions upon the scaly surface, feeling every uneven and small scar carved upon his older brother’s tail, trailing downwards until his hands pass the deep purple gradient end to subconsciously calm the other from picking the ends of his claws.

Raph instantly beams from the soothing rubs.

Mikey’s glad his family feels more and more comfortable discussing their inner monsters, it makes him feel more connected with them. Well, almost everyone so far. He looks around him. But yeah, considering sharing a heart to heart in the outskirts of the Hidden City and behind a shady store, is by far not the most suitable place.

Another notification pops up from Mikey’s phone, but it’s a video call rather a message.

“Yeah, we should definitely pick that up.”

“Heh. Guess that’s what Leo gets for ignoring us,” they share a laugh before picking up.

“Leo! Mind explaining what took you so long?”

There’s inaudible yelling from the other end, both monotone and exaggerated high pitched screams respectively. He and Raph share a confused look. 

Man, what did they do this time?

“MIKESTER.”

“That’s my name.”

“Like, I know you’re pretty mad. At me for. Going radio silent for like. Said time. But. I dunno how else to say this but like. Huff huff. Heh. Oh geez, is it just me or is it like, a lot more harder to fight and talk at the same time cause phew is this turtle outta breath? AND DON’T SAY IT’S A SKILL ISSUE DON.”

In the far distance, a faint “Wasn’t going to” could be heard.

The orange and red masked brothers slowly make their ways away from the stairs and towards the front of the store, tiptoeing around boxes of outdated stock placed outside the store, eyes both glued to Leo’s A graded attempt at filming while allegedly combatting with someone. The shaky camera quality showed nothing but unfocused purple, blue, and black along with a certain turtle's strained breathing fogging up half of the screen.

In the middle of the multitasking process, Leo’s face gets smooshed by a gloved palm, shoving his face to the far left of the screen to reveal a large purple masked forehead. 

“You. Have had enough screen time. For today. And have abused that power. By 5% more than you usually do.”

He’s clearly struggling to push Leo’s face out of frame, but the other isn’t giving up.

“Nuh-uh. That’s barely anything.”

“Uh-huh. I’m right. I’m always right.”

“Don, what’s going on at your end,” Raph sighs. They weren’t going to get anywhere with this level of feuding had he not intervened.

A loud thud sends them both still.

Don looks him dead in the eyes, showing a smidge of panic. “He’s in the walls. OH MY GOD RAPH HE’S IN THE GODDAMN–”

The line cuts off.

Mikey slowly turns to him.

“Raph, in a situation like this we have to remain calm,” Mikey takes a deep breath in then out, before he begins to rapidly shake his brother’s shoulders. “This is completely normal. Very much so. Stop freaking out, everything will be fine WHY ARE YOU FREAKING OUT!?”

Raph lets him shake his shoulders forwards and back. If anything, he appreciates Mikey trying to reassure him despite he himself also worried for the safety of the twins.

“You know what we gotta do. It’s smashin’ time, little man.”

Mikey crosses his arms before propelling himself into the other’s arm. “I better have heard that wrong.”

With the box turtle’s limbs tucked tightly into his shell, Raph carries him like a football and jogs to the scene. He focuses his good eye on aiming so hard that he almost feels himself sweat from absolute concentration, dragging his arm backwards before he bites down his nerves and throws him high and far into the air.

–

They’re getting somewhere and nowhere at this current rate, which is something Leo doesn’t think is physically possible but he supposes that there are some things in life that never ceases to surprise him.

He moves to the side then ducks at the swift swing of the opponent’s weapon, bouncing backwards before clashing the long blade with his own katana. Another katana user? Now things are getting interesting. 

Those red eyes narrow. 

He continues to press on further, but colour him surprised because he didn’t know that a small frame like the samurai’s could pack so much strength.

“This is probably a bad timing, but where’s the uh. Chemist place?”

He imagines Mikey scratching his head at the sad pile of wood and rubble, stretching his head to find the shabby building behind the mountained rubble of thousands, if not hundreds of stored necessities, as if the building would miraculously appear in the far distance. The supplies were cheap and haven’t been profitable for ages anyways, they were doing the store owner a favour.

His shoulders shake under the intensity of the pressure, unable to utter a laugh to his youngest brother’s annoyance even if he wanted to. Mikey tries to whip out an attack, but the figure keeps veering away from those golden chains, stepping back as he continues to test the slider’s durability.

This is getting tedious. Seeing how everybody’s equally worn out, it’s safe to say that they’ve been going at it for a couple minutes. Even the once precise blade slices became sluggish from the samurai.

Leo feels dampness build up on his forehead. 

He digs his katana into the wooden arm plate of the samurai. The other shakes him off without difficulty.

“You’re right, right now is a bad timing,” Leo grunts. “And for the time being, I think it’s closed.”

He makes a cross motion and sends the other backwards, small dust clouds form from the dragging of his feet along the dirt. 

Donnie aims his tech-bo. The cloaked figure easily evades the several laser beams shot. “Ergo, my phone says it opens at 9 tomorrow morning. And you send your most sincere appreciation for my dedicated hard work? I humbly accept.”

“Said no one ever. Not a single soul. And how about helping out your favorite twin kicking slice n’ dice’s butt?”

“I hope you shrivel up and die.”

The indent on the bridge of the supposed ‘slice n’ dice’ deepens.

“Oh? You don’t like that, huh,” Leo grins. “So, what are you? Some crime fighting vigilante? Bootleg Robin Hood?”

The samurai charges full speed at his twin and grabs an unsuspected Donnie’s titanium staff, before hurling him to the ground.

“Tsk tsk, I thought you knew better than that,” Leo wags his finger. “This generation these days, always on their phone– WOAH!”

His head almost retracts into his shell from the katana striking across his head.

With each attack evaded, the blows stricken become increasingly harsher. Leo has seen enough action movies to know what a skilled fighter looks like when he sees one.

Slipping past Raph’s super-sized attack was easy for the samurai, all he had to do was duck, swing, and step to the side at the last minute. But the moment he turns his back, he meets the whip of an unpleasant burn on his calf. A sharp gasp leaves his mouth as he can’t help but double down. The fiery creature inside Mikey’s kusari-fundō cackles.

They surround the heaving fugitive.

Mikey slides his weapon into its respective placeholder. “Aw yeah, baby! We actually got him!”

“Ok dude, we didn’t wanna do this the hard way, but you’ve been pretty good at avoiding us,” Leo lowers his katana towards the figure nursing the scorching ache from his leg. “Or everyone in general, really.”

In an attempt to appear menacing, he quickly pulls out a paper with messily drawn pictures of a candle, incense bell, and a time-glass, and sticks it right into the samurai’s face.

“Have you seen these artefacts? And if so, where. Or else we’ll have to use force."

All he got was a bored look.

"And this could be all a misunderstanding, I get it, I really do. But I– no, we gotta know if you know where it is.”

Did I say something wrong? He waved away his uncertainty. 

“Lee, are you sure you know where you’re heading at?”

“Shh, trust me big bro,” the mental image of something light bulb-esque suddenly pops up in his head. “Neon Leon’s cooking up something hot.”

“You’re scheming something. I don’t like the look you’re giving, Nardo.”

He ignores Donnie. They were onto something big, and everything pointed to the samurai, he could feel it tingling in his bones. Wait. So if he hadn’t liked the idea of nicknames earlier, then…

“I wonder what a samurai is doing out in this huge city. Alone. And to be frank, I don’t see a plural in ‘masked vigilante’ in the news headlines,” Leo pretends to think hard, tapping his cheek. The samurai stills. He sucks the air clenching his teeth. “Actually, now that I think about it, you don't seem much like a samurai to me. Sure you fight like one, but really, you're more of a ronin."

Leo has never seen a look drenched in so much hatred.

Oh I messed up big time.

That must’ve been the tipping point, because shortly after, a baggy clothed leg sweeps his bad leg which almost sends him falling down. Dirty move, but he thinks having his ass handed to him is better than no response. He tries not to wince at the dull throb, taking a couple deep breaths as he pressed his palm on his other knee and the bad one kneeled to the ground.

“Really now. You thought testing our adversary would get us anywhere? Maybe, I dunno, tell your team beforehand what’s going up in that dum dum brain of yours?”

He rubs the spot on his head where Donnie flicked. “I really thought he would tell us.”

Leo sticks his tongue out at Donnie’s unamused brow raise.

He steadies himself to launch another attack when he grabs onto nothing. That’s strange. How did his katana end up tossed so far behind him? 

Clatters of metal chains echo from above, while thundering footsteps and a deep roar charge up from behind. 

The hooded head shifts sideways.

They really should’ve seen it coming. Without strain, the swordsman flawlessly dodges Raph’s strike, head leaning back a second before a large fist comes into contact into the space where his head should’ve been. Simultaneously he twists his body, grabbing onto Mikey’s kusari-fundō before yanking them down hard, watching how the youngest collided with Raph hard.

Mikey groans beneath Raph.

The samurai winces as he shakes his arm, trying to fight off the pain from Mikey’s attack.

Ouch, that’s going to leave a bruise for several business days.

(Leo tries not to think how his jaw goes slack at how badass he looked.)

He tries not to facepalm, but it’s hard not to when the person that tells you to not be reckless, is the same guy that announces every move he’s going to make and fights head on. 

With his brothers out of commission, he weakly raises his katana against his veiled opponent who has already made a remarkable recovery, looking fairly composed in comparison to his previous self. He watches his gloved fingers curl inwards, almost as if he’s signalling for round 2, before he stands with both hands on his katana, legs apart and bent. Leo raises his brows with amusement, rolling his wrist downwards to find his katana by his waist. And here he thought he was the cocky one.

He’s purposefully wearing me out.

A round would have anyone feeling dazed, Leo definitely feeling the tiredness slowly sink into his bones and the adrenaline seep away. But he can’t help it. Unless you counted Donnie or the shredded dummy in the dojo, he never really had the chance to fight someone that matched his style. Someone who could block his sharp swing, and someone to dodge his attack.

Charging up to him, Leo becomes confused why he isn’t bracing his attack but rather staying perfectly still, angling his katana like he’s looking at his own reflection. So he slows his footing and stops.

“Yo dude. You’re supposed to, I dunno, fight me? Unless… Unless you’re forfeiting!”

The other doesn’t look like he’s forfeiting anytime soon.

Had he not met the guy and was coincidentally walking by him, he would’ve thought it was strange that some strange looking relic is standing metres away from a mountain of debris, but wouldn’t think anything of it. 

So he concentrates real hard, trying to come up with a plausible explanation to why he isn’t attacking him but rather slowly crouching down with his katana still in his grip, palm against the dusty plains. It can’t be that easy. Observing his every movement after a couple swings, he likely has one more trick up his sleeve.

But instead of coming up with a reason, he hears something droning at a far distance. Like the hiss of turning cogwheels. He and his brothers are far from the Hidden City, and the pharmacy company doesn’t necessarily market techwear or anything tech related, unless you count the cash register. 

He watches his hooded rival grab a fistful of dirt and clench the grip of his blade, as the whirring sound grows louder. 

Something heavy drops to his stomach.

Oh god.

Only someone who won’t shut up about how his staff is made of titanium would have the gall. 

As expected, an ugly screech followed by the clash of metal and metal. It was clear the vigilante was struggling, his arm quivering from single handedly clenching the blade against the weight of titanium, his attempts to stand were ruined after his twin shoved him to the ground. Donnie continued to press on with both hands on deck, not planning on letting go of his staff anytime soon, but he too was wrestling the urge for his noodle arms to go limp. 

And with a blade too close to a furred neck and a soft-shell's smile nearing borderline psychotic, the hooded figure momentarily closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. Even with his eyes closed, Donnie could make out his eyes moving. 

Leo hobbles to the messy scene. Eugh boy.

“DON, WATCH OUT!” Leo screamed a moment too late.

Using up the last bit of his strength, eyes snapped open to reveal a red glint before slashing Donnie’s weapon, leaving the other dumbfounded as to how a standard measly weapon could possibly cut through one of the densest metals known. The faint hiss of smoke arose from wires perfectly cut within.

Leo looks away for a mere second, the buildup of tension in their face leaving immediately knowing that Raph and Mikey were safe.

To his dismay, the samurai darts to his twin at an ungodly pace. Still paralyzed with confusion, a hand abruptly scatters specks of dirt to the purple masked turtle's eyes. Donnie yelps. His tech-bo clatters to the ground, allowing the injured samurai to make his grand escape, his hunched figure gripping his wounded arm and with a stare too knowing before blending with the shadows.

His brothers approach from behind.

Leo ditches his katana because rushing to his twin who has opted to curling himself into a ball was undeniably more important. 

“Hey, hey no, don’t do that,” he tries to pry Donnie’s hands from rubbing his eyes. His brother flinches from his careful touch. Fortunately, he listens to his brother’s instructions and elects to pressing his hands upon his eyes hard instead, strained breaths hastily leaving his mouth.

Leo sighs deeply.

“Okay, good. That’s good. You’re doing great, dude. Amazing even,” he skids a bit closer to him. “D, you gotta work with me here. I need to help you wash out the dirt, but I can’t do that if you’re, well, covering your eyes. Can I touch you?”

The latter quickly shakes head.

Ok. No touching. Got it.

The slider frowns at the way his brother’s breathing grows increasingly irregular, rocking back and forth in attempts of relieving the painful sensation.

“I know it hurts a lot, but you gotta let go of your hands,” his brother moans in discomfort.

“I’m not a licensed professional, not yet, but what you’re doing is making the pain worse. Trust me on that. So, you gotta keep your hands busy. Remember the breathing thingamajig Mike taught us. This one.”

Leo knows he can’t see, but he knows for sure that Donnie could hear the deep thumps of his crossed hands upon his plastron, fluttering in the shape of a butterfly, before taking in exaggeratedly loud inhales and exhales.

It doesn’t take long before Donnie slowly removes his hands latched onto his eyes, and directs them towards his own, breathing from his diaphragm. Within each alternating flap the tension draws away from Leo’s face, relieved to watch Donnie’s breathing become slower and shallower from each count. The crease carved into his drawn brows begin to smoothen. His purple padded knees gradually lower from his chest and to the ground.

They’ve gotten better and better at this.

Satisfied after a couple minutes, Leo pulls him to his feet and drags him down a drain beside the pile of ruin. He pulls out a bottle of eye wash from his fanny pack. “Now for the fun part.” Donnie groans but compels, trying his best not to recoil at the feeling of cool liquid upon each eye.

“And voila! Good as new! I think a well deserved applause should be rewarded for your bravery, don't you think.” 

Donnie rolls his eyes through his goggles, adjusting the brightness whilst tugging the slider’s strap to convey his intended message. The both of them approach their brothers at their own pace, now they’re not in a rush. 

“And for the record, you did really well. I'm serious, ’m proud of you dude.”

“Hm. Yeah, whatever.” The strap tightens under Donnie’s grip.

Leo waves his arms around, yelling out to the preoccupied attention of his brothers looking at Raph’s hands. Ditching his brother, Leo runs up to them, suddenly curious to what captivated their attention. He stops steps away from Raph’s tail swaying briskly. 

“No way.”

“Yes way!”

Mikey nods, egging Raph to widen the arms of the plastic bag.

“Check it! Is it the bag that samurai guy ditched? Yup! He must’ve been in a hurry and didn’t even notice it,” he digs inside it.

“I was expecting the things stolen to be more pricey and rare, but nope, just your standard supplies. Stuff like the same brand of adhesive bandages April uses to wrap Donnie’s shell, painkillers, but that’s not the best part!”

Leo’s eyes replicate the size of dinner plates at the sight of a cylindrical, waxy textured item in his younger brother's hands. He was planning tonight to end with empty reassurances and another cycle of sleeplessness. He could suck it up for a few nights more (lies lies lies). But boy was he proven wrong. The first artefact to complete the seance, right before his fingertips and in the flesh. One down, two more to go.

Leo breathlessly chuckles with a hand over his head. He doesn’t know how to express his joy without bursting into tears and making a fool out of himself because wow has he dreamt of this moment far too many times for it to be normal, so he hugs Mikey so tightly he lifts him to the air and spins him around and around until he physically can’t anymore.

Chapter Text

Usagi Yuichi quickly discovered that there were more cons than pros when working as a waiter, but he won't admit it out loud for undisclosed reasons.

It wasn't that Run of the Mill was constantly in a horrible state that made him dislike the job. If anything, it was one of the most highly maintained establishments he's ever been to, and it was your generic family diner - that probably says a lot about him as a person, now that he thinks about it. And per usual, Usagi's co-workers simply tell him to 'raise his standards' and he just pretends to join in on their laugh and nod like he perfectly understood what they mean by that.

He likes how the cozy warm vibe given off instantly brought him to ease, plus his boss was also pretty decent; he wasn't as bad as he thought he'd be, only a bit stricter, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. And regardless of every good thing that has come from it, there were also the little things that made him want to tear the fur off his head.

So, throughout the weeks of working part-time, he made list on why he shouldn't leave in order to keep his sanity in check.

To begin with, he needed cash. Fast and upfront. It was common knowledge that being a teenager sparked an everlasting desire for independence, but being a homeless teenager roaming in one of the biggest districts was another story. He would continue to live the thievery life and steal a couple unnoticed fruits begging to be taken, he wasn't going to feel bad if it replenished the energy wasted on handling uncontrolled children, but a couple close calls with the Hidden City police made him think twice. 

Yeah, no.

He was going to need to work smart and hard if he wanted a chance at surviving.

Moreover, the entire place had unlimited aircon. Alike oil and water, thick fur and the sweltering summer's heat definitely did not mix well (he unfortunately has prior experience from that far too many times), especially after sweating buckets from... unsanctioned nightly activities. Anyone would've gone a little insane without a cool breeze. The humidity's no better than the countryside. Had he not applied for the job here or any job elsewhere, he would've needed to sprint to even feel a momentary breeze if he wanted to even feel a gust of air. But even with that, the weight of his mystic cloak would most likely slow him down, which was even more of a hassle to.

He's just thankful he can slip into the storage facility whenever he needs to cool down.

While the idea of a stable weekly pay and scavenging food free from waste bins sounded appealing, his unfortunate lack of English proficiency ultimately pays the price. The amount of confused and irritated reactions he's received from customers from his limited vocabulary was already alarming. And to top it off, it was even more of a struggle to communicate with his collogues, given the language barrier hindering his ability to form a somewhat bond. Usagi knows enough to hold a basic conversation, recognizing a couple English words on his Auntie's shipment boxes, but occasional slang and accents just throw him off. He appreciates their efforts to engage some small talk with him, some even going as far as to use Google Translate, but it just wasn't the same.

(He dismisses how his joy became overridden with slight disappointment after finding out that another yokai that moved from Neo Edo years before, couldn't speak his mother tongue.)

They were from the Hidden City and he was not, so it made perfectly sense that they were more fluent with the English dialect than he is. But what didn't make sense was how ridiculously long it took him to learn it, considering that he's been there for nearly half a year. 

Usagi softly thumps his head against the receptionist table.

An honorary samurai reduced to a lowly peasant? How pitiful. He imagines the way Chizu ridicules the result of his existential crisis by raising her brows and hiding a teasing smile behind a palm.

The blunt edges of his server pad poked through the peeping hole in his pocket.

The list was barely a list at all, he just told himself that to make himself feel better. It was more like half written sentences cramped within a half-torn piece of paper from his server pad, fingerprints of pizza grease leaving ugly stains on the corners, but he still keeps it in the back pocket of his jeans.

Rush hour isn't due for another couple minutes, but he can already hear the usual horde of regulars come piling in. The uncontained squeals of younger yokai near the soda station scream accidental spills of sticky sweetness, which usually translates to an additional hour added to cleaning duty, but not without their accompanied parents unbothered to tell them to behave since "they're just kids". It's times like these that makes him wonder if fighting for food on the streets is better than this.

But really, he does like the place. Once you know the certain words to use for certain people and just do as you're told, then you'll live another day to see that well deserved paycheck. And on the bright side, things could be worse. So yeah, he did like working as a waiter. Just not when he's forced to face entitled customers demanding refunds because the taste wasn't up to their standards. Or listening to the pitched cries over sold-out jello on the dessert menu.  

Ok, maybe he'll openly admit that the waiter lifestyle was overbearing at times. Just this once, because he doesn't want to risk the chances of getting fired.

He continues to bury his head deeper into his arms.

C'mon Usagi, just a couple more hours. You got this.

There wasn't much he could for the dull throb of a migraine circling back from last week. He tried patting everywhere on his uniform, but his finger through the hole in both pockets pretty much answered his question. There goes his emergency stash.

So he just resorted to resting his eyes and keeping his head dead still on the table, even for a little bit, before mentally preparing himself. He feels like he's in one of those television shows where the audience laughs at anything a character says, because not even a couple seconds later, the door swings open.

A pair of footsteps come marching before him, but Usagi can't for the life of him raise his head. Well, he tries to anyways, but it just looks like he's stirring in a deep slumber. Hm. Maybe if he pretends to be asleep, then the customer will go away. Hm, that sounds like a great idea. It's not like one or two customers will affect the restaurant's revenue.

"I didn't think sleeping on the job was one of your greatest qualities."

Ah, so it's him. He recognizes that boastful voice all too well.

From Huseo's account, Leo was one of his regulars that frequently loved to pester him. He has seen him around, it's hard not to notice that confident smile he wears all the time, but never long enough for him to know more beyond the surface level facts about him. (He doesn't understand why anyone would horrifically gasp at the mere mention of pineapple on pizza. Food was food.) 

Whether he's seen him during his shift or heard him from others, he knew that the eccentric turtle loved to hang around the vicinity, drawing in the attention of other customers from his one-liners and occasional lighthearted chats, but never thought nothing much of it. Just some guy that everyone happened to know. To keep himself busy from thinking of reasons not to return to the life on the streets, and out of pure curiosity - he starts paying closer attention to him. Slowly, he notices how he's only ever seen him with his one of his brothers or all, whether it's ordering in the restaurant or takeaway. And how he typically orders for everyone's dish, but sometimes would request a singular slice topped with just pineapple on plain mozzarella pizza.

Usagi always got a chuckle out of the way Donnie slowly turns to Leo with a death glare. 

It's funny how often they've coincidentally crossed paths, and even less when Usagi tries not to grimace whenever he hears his name leave the other's mouth. He's unsure whether Leo was actively searching for him to chat up a quick conversation because he ran out of people to talk to, or it was the universe's funny way of telling him something, but whatever is going on has got to stop. He's already got enough on his plate, and he doesn't need distractions. 

Not wanting to come off rude, he tries to lift his head again that suddenly weighs a jillion tons, successfully doing so for a couple seconds away from his nest of arms and table to welcome him. He even tried used his arms to push himself upwards, nose and wooden desk surface merely inches apart, before closing the gap and faceplanting onto the table. His head feels like it's been smacked multiple times, the twinge immediately returning.

He can't imagine how miserable he looks.

Seems like the Leo's light laughter answered his thoughts. If he still had thoughts considering whether to dislike him or not, now was the perfect opportunity to answer that. He still hates his guts.

"What do you want this time?"

He could hear him shuffle his feet. "Geez, you're making it sound like tormenting you on the job is my favorite hobby. M' just making sure Tío's place is still up and running."

The jukebox in the corner sings out the melody of an outdated song. If the same song plays again, Usagi thinks that he'll actually loose it. 

"Okay okay! AND I also wanted to see what's up with my favorite Run of The Mill employee. You sound like your throat got grated, by the way."

"Thanks for pointing out the obvious. But I'm serious."

"And so am I. Was gonna order something for the gang, but never mind that. Want me to help you with anything?"

Oh my god yes please, and stay the hell away from me, were at war in Usagi's mind and he didn't know which side to pick. So much for a peaceful evening. Given up with trying to maintain a polite impression, he lolls his head to a side on the table. His scowl greets Leo's curious look.

Leo gasps and points his finger at him.

Wow, rude much? Didn't his parents ever tell him that pointing was ill-mannered?

"Sheesh, looks like sleeping beauty had a nightmare instead. A little warning before a jumpscare would've been nice, almost had a heart-attack there."

Usagi scoffs.

The ninja thought that he looked like death because of a sleepless night, didn't he?

He was going to have a heart-attack if Leo didn't leave him alone anytime soon. It's not like he was asking much. Surviving the night was all he ever wanted. All the questions he ever asked were honestly pointless and held no value, but moreover, it made him realize how teenagers his age should have more interests other than obsessing over the achievements from his ancestors. He was already stuck in the weird limbo of nearing adulthood, meaning that he's given so much freedom to do whatever activities that would classify as hazardous, but also meant he was stuck fulfilling unwanted responsibilities. Like paying sales tax for some foods, and listening to Leo rant about revisited episodes of the Jupiter Jim franchise. He doesn't see what's so enticing about it.

Leo spares a glance at Usagi's hand. He's only wearing a singular glove on his right hand. 

The rabbit yokai soothes the ache building up in his calf.

"All I did was look at you," Usagi grunts. At this rate, he can't decide whether his brain feels like either mush or on fire, the throbbing sensation moved to the other side of his head. "How can you have a sudden heart attack and know beforehand?"

Leo shrugs," Don't think too much of it. It's basically a type of saying."

"Do you have any painkillers, Leonardo-san?" He interrupts.

He didn't mean to snap at him. Leo was made up of every brand of annoying, all he's capable of is making terrible jokes that only he would groan but secretly love and switching the condiment dispensers at the last second; but he wasn't a down-right menace. But that doesn't mean he's off the hook. The thumps of his foot reverberates, the table surface shaking to his jittering leg, nursing his temple and patiently waiting for the other to finish rummaging in his fanny pack. He feels himself physically deflate at Leo's shaking head. 

Was working during one of the busiest days of the week, let alone with several injuries and a raging headache, but now with that acidic sourness clogging his throat he knows all too well, worth that paycheck? Probably not the smartest idea, but he'll let future Usagi be the judge of that.

"Headache?" 

Usagi dejectedly nods.

"I would throw in a shitty joke, but you're not looking so hot, Cottontail."

For the first time since he's ever spoken to him, he agrees. Both wounds were still healing from last night, and it's making Usagi's life a bit harder than he would've liked it to be. The scolding burn on his calf was fine if he barely touched it, but he unfortunately couldn't say the same for his arm. It's a miracle he even had the energy to have made it through the morning, but he doesn't know he can finish up if he couldn't lift himself upwards. If he trudged through like he usually does, he speculates that one of three things will happen.

1. He makes an even more of a fool out of himself, Hueso firing him in the process from his lack of professionalism.

2. He faints from the amount of pain sustained and things get even more complicated thereon.

3. Nothing happens, but he'll most likely be out of commission for a while.

All these options sound terrible, he thinks. Taking an early leave isn't an option either, he doesn't like the possibility of Hueso pestering him personal details when he's got none to offer.

Leo has this thinking look a while now, his fingers curled below his chin up before snapping them. He just hopes he doesn't suggest anything stupid.

"I have a proposition."

"You know how to use big words?"

Leo rolls his eyes, "Apparently more than you do. But first things first, can you stand?"

He looks him with all brows raised. If his previous attempts weren't enough, then he must be blind. He doesn't think he wants to see the world spin again.

"Stupid question. Right," he raises his hands in a defensive pose. "But you also gotta hear me out."

"And how do I know you're not up to no good?"

He folds his arms, "But you want that sweet cash, yeah?"

Usagi purses his lips.

"What idea were you thinking of?"

Leo claps his hands together. "Excellent pick! Now, if you can't stand, what about sitting up? Can't be that bad."

Refraining himself from sucker punching his lazy smile, he braces himself. He feels the world around him spin and his migraine rush back like the waves of a heavy shore, before he can see clearly again.

For a split second, he sees his morning shift co-worker sign out for the night. He waves her goodbye.

"Sorry, what were you going to," he cuts himself off, unsure where the slider fled off to now. It wasn't necessarily crowded, so it didn't take long before Usagi's eyes followed the abrupt shut of a door leading to the storage area. So that's where he must've gone to. "... say."

Wait, but why's he going in there? He could've gone to the employee lounge, or kitchen, or literally anywhere. Out of all places, he still decided to go inside the most boring place in the diner. There's nothing remotely interesting inside, it was equivalent to a barren wasteland, unless you counted the couple dozen paper towels and utensils and spare uniforms.

His ears shoot up. 

"Absolutely not."

Leo emerges and tightens the red bow of his uniform, "Don't be stupid dude, you're in no position to work."

It's questionable how fast of a wardrobe change Leo went through in a matter of seconds, but Usagi's learnt to not question certain things. There was nothing of significance to Leo's uniform. Really, it was your standard white long sleeve layered with a black vest and slacks (tie or bow of your choice), but the only key difference being his left pant leg looking awfully sawed, revealing his knee brace.

Hyperextended knee brace. That's the fancy word he heard leave Donnie's mouth that one time serving the brothers.

Usagi makes an unimpressed face. "And neither are you!"

"You would've been toasted if it was just you. See, with my honorific contributions," he draws out his words. Usagi leans away from his overconfident presence, his tongue pushing slightly forward. He mildly dislikes the guy for reasons more than just being a public nuisance, but he's got no choice. "You'll get the job done faster and you won't have to move as much. Double the helping hand." 

"More like, double the trouble. No offense."

"None taken," the rabbit yokai brushes off Leo's fake sniffing. Was he always this dramatic?

"What about Huseo? Wouldn't you get into a lot trouble if he finds that you're working in uh," his hands wave around the cast hugging Leo's knee. "In that condition?"

"Filing away the paperwork."

"The customers?"

"They won't snitch on me."

"Your brothers?"

"Look. Do you want my help or not? Because it seems like you really don't want me near you. Which is cool, but I'm only offering cause you're literally shaking like a leaf, and you look like you could really use some help. But it's fine too if you don't want it. Just say the word, and I'll leave for the night."

Usagi looks down. He's being a total ass, wasn't he?

I can put aside my differences for today.

"You're right. Sorry. I'm just worried," he tries to get up from his seat. Leo catches him by the arm in case.

"I get it, but thanks for saying that. Think about it like this, I'll get the food and serve it. And I know you don't want me doing all the work, so how about you, uh," Leo quickly let's go of Usagi's arm, awkwardly coughing into his fist. 

Did he do something wrong to make his face redder than usual?

"An-And all you have to do is just stand and look pretty and take orders. There! Easy peasy. How does that sound?"

You think I'm pretty?

Usagi blinks. Interesting.

"I hope you know this a terrible idea."

Leo grins harder. "I have to disagree. Personally, I think it's a great plan. The best we've came up with."

"This is our first and last time."

On que, the clock strikes 6pm and a colorful stampede of yokai come flowing in, filling in vacant seats that once were thought to not even be possible. They both share a look. He playfully pushes Leo back, ambling towards the chattery crowd. Leo shoots him a thumbs up.

"Time to get working. Chop chop!"

-

Not that he wants to admit it, but things are going unexpectedly smooth.

Customers are coming in left and right, leaving nothing but contempt remarks on the food and service. Not a single customer has asked Leo about is leg surprisingly, but rather embraced him like an old friend, regardless of if they were a regular or new around town.

And Leo was right, he hasn't been feeling as tired as he initially thought. It was no kidding that he was sore all over, but having some tasks weighed off him made the night do-able.

He finishes up taking an order from a couple and hands it to Leo.

"So far so good. If I'm being honest, I think we make a good team, Usa."

"Don't call me that."

"But why? It has a nice ring to it," Leo gleams as Usagi pushes him into the kitchen.

Only when he's out of sight did Usagi let a smile slip. He shakes his head to himself. He likely isn't needed until Leo serves the food, so he sits on a chair of an unoccupied table. He lets his shoulders drop as most customers bid him farewell, a telling sign that closing hours are approaching, something he was looking forward to.

Whatever was he going to do with Leo?

"That's what I tell myself all the time."

Usagi staggers, unexpected to see his manager suddenly appear beside him. Unlike him, Hueso seems unbothered by the slightest, still flickering through the channels on the corner television for something interesting before switching it off.

He can't help but break out into a sweat, desperately trying to maintain his stoic customer friendly image.

"He's really a handful, and sometimes I wish he wasn't so arrogant. It'll be the downfall of his ego," Huseo tidies the mountain stack of menu booklets, smiling to himself at the distant memory. 

And suddenly, Usagi feels like he's intruding something too personal to have on a busy weekday evening. Oh he definitely can not know about Leo. 

The skeleton yokai looks around. He clears his throat.

"I must say, this place has been really making a turn for the best. Appreciate what you've done, Usagi," he hums while nodding his head thoughtfully. 

He barely can take in what Hueso has been saying, probably commending his efforts to making the place livelier, but he still acts like he does. Honestly, he feels like he's in those cliche movie scenarios he's seen during clean up duty, in which the protagonist is smuggling someone into a high security facility in hopes of stealing a high valued artefact. Not to come off as entitled, but he feels like he should receive extra compensation for the amount of stress he gets from even being here.

His ears pick up rapid footsteps and blocks the door from Leo opening.

Huseo narrows his eyes at the chaos behind him, and all Usagi could do was block his view and pretend he doesn't notice anything.

"Okay... How are you liking the job so far?"

Usagi chuckles nervously, because he doesn't know if he has the energy left in him to keep Huseo away from the kitchen, while somehow telepathically tell Leo to not come out. 

And how was he supposed to answer that question anyway? I absolutely hate this job but I'm doing it for the fat wad of cash? He didn't have a death wish.

"Well, so far so good. Really love it, and I'm loving every minute of it," Usagi's foot does the trick in blocking the kitchen doors from bursting out an impatient Leo, but he doesn't know how long he could hold him off. The banging on the door and muffled concerns weren't helping his case, as his boss tries angling his head to see through the window what the commotion was about. "Wouldn't dream of having any other job."

Huseo deliberate lowers his head, and it's almost like he's staring straight into the inner depths of his soul.

He sniffs the air, covering his bony palm above his mouth.

"And uh, no one is inside the kitchen, I presume?"

"What?" Though, it more sounds like a statement than a question.

The next thing he knows, he twists his head around and is immediately met by a face full of smoke, caged inside by the kitchen doors. The stove. The customers' orders. Leo's in there.

He yanks the doors open without haste, waving away the fumes but sees no sign of the irksome slider. It's insane how the smoke quite literally swallowed the entire kitchen setup, but laughing at how crazy everything is that would just be a poor timing. 

If he finds out the passed out not-blood-related-but-it's-complicated nephew of his boss on the tiles, Usagi affirms that he'll be more than just fired.

Please be okay, I'll actually listen to your tangents and be nicer to you from now on.

He keeps digging through the thick haze, and he knows how absurd he looks clawing literal air, but he does so anyways.  

Thankfully, it doesn't take long before the slider collides with him, almost crashing down if it weren't for his instincts kicking in, grabbing onto the table ledge. There's a clothed hand on his hip rubbing against the pink fleshy gash he's still healing from, but he doesn't really mind. Doesn't hurt as much as it sounds. With a palm balancing a somewhat salvaged dish from the haze, Leo looks at him incredulously.

"Guess I never left the kitchen, 'cause you're still taking my breath away," saving himself from bursting into a shaky laughter, Usagi peels Leo away.

"That was a horrible timing, Leonardo-san."

"Aw, but you're smiling," he leans slightly forward but Usagi pushes him to the designated seat of the customers. "Not even an applause? I'm hurt."

"You'll manage."

A throat clears. Usagi freezes and sheepishly smiles behind him, but it more looks like an awkward grimace. Huseo looks just about done.

Without even realizing it, he had a shovel and was knees deep into digging himself a shallow grave. And in that grave, he concluded and presumably decided that he wasn't getting out if it anytime soon and this is where his fate has been resigned to. 

"I better be imagining things. What are you doing here, Pepino?"

"Pepino? Who's that? Haven't heard that name before," He quickly leaves the customers' table. The slider fixes the name tag clipped onto his vest, huffs on it and gives it a squeaky clean. "I'm Shay, how may I be at service?"

"Shay only has a morning shift."

"Guess I changed my mind," Leo bickers.

"She's a poodle mix yokai."

"Just feeling myself today. I'm stepping out of my comfort zone."

Usagi has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing at how this is even happening. 

But jokes aside. Normally, one would trust Leo's proud remarks and wouldn't think anything of it. But rabbits don't have excellent vision for nothing. He sees the way Leo's chest rises at an abnormally slow pace, like he's trying to control a spur of emotions from spilling, and he sees the slider's hand hidden behind, chipping the nail of his thumb.

Huseo looks at the both of them before pinching the bridge of his nose and Usagi couldn't help feeling immense guilt. If he were to play the blame game, he would've put it on anyone else; call him a coward, but he still needed this job no matter how much he groaned at the mere mention of the restaurant. But Leo wasn't anyone. And yet, maybe it was the way he looked at Leo's excited smile that he turns his back without saying a word.

The skeleton yokai waves a hand.

Even working for months under Huseo's management, he still struggles to pronounce the most basic phrases. He tries to say some of it out loud when no one's around, but it sounds even more incomprehensible, and he feels silly for even trying. But what he can do, is pick up the unintelligible idiota abnegados string out of his mouth.

"Usagi, make sure he doesn't try anything. Finish up right now. And if I catch you again, I'm calling them. Final warning."

Leo raises his palm up to Usagi. He shakes his head and lets out a breathless chuckle, still in shock at what happened within a span of minutes.

A clap echoes throughout the now deserted restaurant.

-

"Dude, I was so ready to have my ass handed to me. Can you believe that we actually got away with that scot-free??"

Leo's talking as fast as he's chewing, not taking in the moment to properly bite and swallow. Usagi tries not to physically repulse at the bits of food flying out, even when one of it gets on his uniform, but he supposes that mentioning it would be pointless, considering they're in a pretty good mood. The both of them continue to munch on Leo's order, boxes stacked above the rest of his brothers.

"And did you see the look on Señor Huseo's face? He was like this," Usagi uncovers his face, imitating the usual utterly bored look his boss wore. Even mimicking the hand gestures and the occasional tch at the end of every sentence, he likes to think he was pretty spot on with the impression. 

Leo almost spits his pizza out, choking on the unchewed bite of pineapple. Seems like it must've gotten him hard, because Usagi's patting his back as Leo hacks while laughing, making his coughing fit even worse. He doesn't get why his lips are tugging upwards, and maybe he won't for a while. Both his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard that he forgets the grudge he held against the slider from last night and a couple nights before. 

This doesn't feel like a dream. He feels like he's lucid dreaming.

"But yeah. Thank you again for helping me out, didn't realize that I never got to say that. And uh, I apologize for being skeptical of you. I now see how impolite I was," he rubs his arm, sitting across from the slider.

"Aw hey, no need to be so formal. It's no biggie," Leo kicks his legs down from the table. "I guess not everyone can appreciate my humor."

"Suppose you're right."

Usagi barks a small laugh. When Leo raises his head, Usagi looks the other way and acts like he wasn't feeling giddy. Unphased by the rabbit yokai's sudden focus elsewhere, he tucks a leg beneath his left on the chair. 

"I know this sounds super out of the ordinary, but I've barely seen you around. Obviously I don't mean at Huseo's. So can I ask you something uh..." Leo proceeds to make some hand gestures and Usagi has an inkling feeling he knows where this is heading to.

Questions like those always lead to trouble. It's already a workout to concoct fake backstories, answering them always begged for consequences. But since Leo has already gone through the trouble of helping him, no matter how much he knew he didn't like him, he doesn't see the harm in indulging.

He plants a palm on the side of his head, evidently sagging in his chair. Just because he's feeling better than a couple hours before, doesn't mean the raging ache by his temples has vanished too. Usagi wishes that were the case. It's almost as if the slider's eyes lit after he nodded.

"That's correct. Just a couple months ago, I moved to the Hidden City from Neo Edo," the mention of his hometown brings a bitter aftertaste. "It's weird how everything's so loud and uh. So... So much!"

He finally manages to get the right words out, hands gesturing to get his wording across, but he thinks Leo gets the memo.

Expectedly, Leo does. Those yellow eyes look at him with awe, "Wait then, how long have you been here for?"

"A few months. Like, six maybe? The farm life was great and all, but I wanted to explore. But sometimes it gives me a headache from how noisy things are, and it doesn't help that I have sensitive hearing too. G uess I'm just not used to it."

"Well, exploring the Hidden City would be the perfect place to do so. You're lucky you have a work visa to do that."

"And that is?"

Leo stops in his tracks, a string of melted cheese yet bitten off.

"It's basically when your boss pays for your stay when you live in another- Usagi?? Then where are you even staying at? Because from what I know so far, hotels are like, super pricey nowadays. And I only know that from Huseo."

"... A cheap hotel."

Which isn't entirely true, but not completely false either. He doesn't mention the life he lived before bouncing from hotel to another, before ultimately hitting the streets. 

Hogging off food supplies and second handed clothes from the homeless shelter was a real lifesaver, doing him a favor from fending his life on the streets for a while. He didn't mind that he had to wait at an ungodly hour and through a long lineup just to shower in icy cold waters, nor did it bother him that he slept in an unbelievably cramped room. If he could get away from the people that drove him here in the first place, then he wouldn't utter a single complaint about how disgusting the shelter was. He could turn a blind eye to the mold creeping by the corners of the shower corners.

From a distance beyond the display windows, he spots the several large trucks he assumes are removalists, heading where his temporary home used to be. It was fun while it lasted.

But he doesn't want to keep answering, not when Leo knits his brows with concern.

"And I probably don't meet the requirements for a work visa," Leo still sports this distant look that makes Usagi's skin crawl.

Seems like his prayers were answered, because an obnoxious ringtone that only Leo would think sounds cool suddenly rings, cutting into the conversation. While he is grateful that the topic is dropped, it makes him backtrack and think about how this conversation went from rejoicing their victory, to touching the tip of the 'the chronicles of the hobo rabbit'.

Leo lifts his lips at the name of the caller, picks it up, and slowly brings the phone to his cheek. He knowingly shares Leo's wince, watching him pull away from the phone to avoid rupturing his eardrum.

He bets the remnants of his sanity that it's one of his brothers that called.

"Look, I'm real sorry that I forgot to text you that I was staying longer. I just- Raaph, dude. I... no no no. I don't need you to babysit me the next time I come there. I literally got this."

It's hard not to listen in when his phone is on speaker, and it's even more when he's trying not to outright laugh in front of him when he's already getting put on blast.

Too invested in trying to salvage whatever's left of the argument, Leo turns to him with pleading eyes. 

"Yes I'm sure. I'm even uh... I was uh... Tutoring! Yes! I was tutoring this waiter guy English at Tío Huseo's place. I mean, how hard could it be."

Unthinkably challenging.

"He's even here with me, actually."

This time it was Usagi's turn to choke on his food. He could still hear Leo bickering with Donnie and reassuring Raph's motherhenning, but this was not expected. Without fault, he vividly remembers promising himself not to get attached, to grow comfortable. That's what got him stranded here in the first place. Stumbled here with no luggage nor passport, only a forgotten legacy. If there was one thing Usagi admires about himself, it's his ability to think on the spot when under stress, because he's not really thinking, it's more like of letting his instincts take over. He didn't spend endless hours of training under Karasu-Tengu for nothing. Usagi has never felt more at a loss than as of currently. 

"Wha- Leo," he whisper yells. "I didn't agree to this."

"Pleeease? This will probably be the only time I get to go outside. And it'll probably be my 3rd close death encounter if I didn't come up with anything."

"If you're a rookie, then I'm an expert."

"If you don't start fessin' up by the count of 10, Raph's gonna... uh Don what's that word again. Abooolish? Abolish. 'kay thanks. Abolish your rights to going outside," judging by the light threat, that must've been Leo's older brother. He sounds proud from pronouncing the word.

"I mean. Like yeah, I said it because there was nothing else that'll convince my bro. I still think you should give it a try. Give it a shot. Just for me?"

Leo bats his eyes. Usagi feels like he should be hurt that he threw him under the bus, but he remembers what he said in his internal monologue earlier and decides to zip it. By the looks of it, seems like he sealed his fate when he even looked at his direction. Usagi heavily sighs.

"I don't know. Why should I join in on your tutoring coverup? I'm not even that bad at English. It's just my stupid accent," Usagi watches Leo falter slightly. "Even if I do play along, do you really want to do this?" He doesn't mention how he barely knows how to speak in the second language, so he opts to recycling sentences and words in hopes of blending in. 

Only spluttering noises leave Leo's mouth, and it makes Usagi feel like he just said something he shouldn't have. 

"Dude, what are you on about? Course I like hanging out with you."

You like hanging around with me? 

A muffled countdown approaching the end leaves from the cracked phone screen, covered by a gloved hand. After several beats, Leo looks like he's panicking between answering Raph and getting a response from Usagi.

Usagi goes awfully still.

At times like these, Usagi hates the fact that Leo brings up good points, swearing that he could read his mind. So he starts thinking. Obviously, he prefers staying away from the Hamato's, especially their troublesome face-man, preferring to watch from a distance. But then again...

"Are you a good tour guide?"

This seems to have caught Leo off guard.

"I -uh. Sure?"

"5... 4... 3..."

"And do you know Japanese much?"

Leo eyes him suspiciously. He must be trying to figure out the direction Usagi's heading towards. 

"Not really."

"Then alright, it's settled. I'll agree. You show me around the place, and I'll teach you some Japanese in return. It only seems fair."

Before Raph could even finish his countdown, Leo interrupts him and hangs up immediately. 

"I'll be the best tour guide you'll ever have."

Usagi looks down at Leo's hand, begging to be shaken.

"This is so stupid."

"C'mon, it'll look cool."

Usagi could use a couple heads up on getting the hell out of here.

Chapter Text

That following evening, Leo focused long and hard to not look suspicious in front of his family, if he wanted his plan to work. And he most preferably doesn't want to get caught in the act of leaving. Making a second round would be a major hassle, and he bets his chances of sneaking out would be significantly slimmed by his attempt alone. Everything had to go right, and he had to do it tonight. No backing out now.

He's been thinking a lot recently, partially due to his sleepless nights. Leo has been through the same song and dance to know how his nights will turn out, and there's always a chance he'll either dream of the same thing and a chance he won't. No in between. Insomnia gave him the wonderful gift of letting his mind wander about at ungodly hours. Or months. It leaves him tossing and turning until his bed is knotted with an uncomfortably warmth, forcing him to get up and make himself his usual cup of tea, or eventually pass out from doomscrolling whatever's on his feed.

The thoughts are always random. Sometimes pondering how randomly hearing his favorite songs is more satisfying than searching it. And how the word 'bed' looks exactly how one would imagine it.

Leo swaps his striped nightwear for something comfortable. He stares at the purple hoodie a size too big.

But at this time of night, his found himself trying to solve of one particular mystery: Usagi. He wasn't joking when he said that he legitimately wanted to hang out with the waiter. Though, it was more him bugging the other during shift. On the surface level, the rabbit yokai wasn't exactly the most approachable, his chronic frown being one of the many indicators. But there was something else to it. He liked how he was the only one that could make him stifle a laugh at his ridiculously over the top stunts, and how Usagi visibly relaxed at his loud entrance, regardless of how many times he shunned him away. But he also noticed how Usagi's eyes carried a burdening heaviness, and how he would fiddle with his gloved palm whenever mentioned his home town. It made him want to know more about him, and how many secrets laid behind that impassive front he placed between them. 

Perhaps it was a traditional custom to wear a singular glove rather a pair. He'll have to remember to ask him later tomorrow.

Besides, not every guy you find conventionally attractive is attracted to you, Leo tells himself. He quickly shoves whatever things he could find down his fanny pack. He only wanted to know more about Usagi because he needed a friend. And he looked like he could really use one.

Certainly not because he felt his stomach twist around him. 

And of course, he knows the consequences of getting caught; it was basically like provoking a sleeping bear. The only times he deliberately snuck out was because he was following his intuition that one time, and the other being he sidetracked. So technically speaking, he didn't sneak out for the intended purpose. He facepalms himself. Sounds like he pulled a Donnie.

Putting his inability to sleep to good use, he patiently waits for everyone to bid each other a restful evening, pretending to sleep until the lair is dead silent. So quiet, he could still hear the drip drip drip of the leaking tap Donnie has yet fixed. Carefully, he slips his pillow beneath his covers, satisfied after creating a visible lump before heading out. Living with insomnia has its perks despite the depilating aftermath, allowing him to master the art of sneaking in and out of his bedroom without waking his brothers up (minus Donnie, his sleeping schedule was equally horrendous). Leo has grown so familiar with sneaking out, so much so he has already memorized ways to get past his incredibly squeaky door, and which floorboards made the loudest creak. He stops. And he could always use his katana to get himself to where he wants to. Not to brag, but he's gotten better and better at using it throughout the years.

He takes a mourning look at his katana. It's stationed where it usually was, carelessly laid in the corner of his room. Except, he doesn't understand why the sinking feeling returns whenever he thinks of using his ninpo, his gloved palm tenses around the fraying handle. He does know, actually. He wants to use it so badly. But he knows what'll happen if he does.  

His heels turn before the sharp tentacle could emerge from the shadows.

Before leaving, he has to make sure the coast is clear. Scurrying to the closest room, he brushes past the orange beaded curtains and peaks through, relieved to see his younger brother snoring softly on his hammock. A splatter of vibrant colors stretches across the once plain canvas and floor, numerous art supplies Splinter scavenged for him in previous years scrambled. Leo mentally notes down to remind Mikey to clean up before Raph finds out, but he has a guess that he'll probably forget.

Next up, he plants an ear against the metaliac door embellished with it's signature 'D' trademark in the dead center. The slider thinks that signing every invention, including every page of his notes, is showing his narcissistic side. Deprived of the usual mechanical noises, Leo takes a hard guess that his twin actually caved into the soft purple covers. Which was like a once in a blue moon scenario. 

He jets past his father's room.

Tiptoeing throughout the corridors, he tentatively peered his eldest brother's room. He couldn't help but smile at the array of plushes crowding around Raph's bed, imagining them safeguarding the snapping alligator from external threats. He knew how much it meant to him. Distracted from being in the moment, he accidentally takes a step forward, eliciting a sharp creak. A groan strings out from the lump of blankets. Too frozen with fear, Leo stills his movement and can only hope that he becomes one with the shadows as a head raises up. He keeps forgetting that Raph was a light sleeper. With his brother blinking blearily, he feels his heart pounding even after Raph goes back to sleeping.

That was a close call.

With that, he briskly makes his way past the lounge area and to the front entrance, which really, was just a huge circular hole with an automatic front Donnie implemented after the invasion. Even while he's typing in the not so obvious password, he couldn't help but second guess himself. Was it worth it? Did he truly want this? It most certainly doesn't help that Leo had commitment issues. Whether it be mastering a skateboarding trick, or beating Mikey's high score, he always preferred understanding the basics but rather not get too swept away with learning the more of it. And getting to know Usagi undeniably required a lot of patience.

Leo bites onto his tongue, his head grazing the cover leading up to the shining lights and constant traffic jams.

He needs some fresh air to think.

-

The night sky of the Hidden City doesn't compare to the human world. All there is to it is the usual sparkle of a thousand white dots. Rather running at full speed, Leo decides to time the time to appreciate the stars above. 

Bouncing off the rooftop to another, he chuckles at the dented side of a water pipe. By the looks of it, a small body of spikes collided with the fragile metal and created a noticeable indent, but not hard enough to cause a leakage.

Even without the level of imagination Mikey had, Leo closes his eyes and tries to picture himself in that very moment. It's a distant memory probably only he remembers; a mere fleeting moment.

The list of gift ideas crumble within his palm. Truth be told, he never knew how hard it was to visualize the past, and how hard it was to tell the difference between the actual thing and the ones his brain makes up. Reverbed grunts and groans break his momentary peace, anyone with or without super hearing could tell what was going down. After all, the Hidden City wasn't always sunshine and rainbows.

But what peaked his attention was the shadow of a long metal weapon swinging about. Something that could strike with precision and accuracy. Something katana like.

He contemplates whether he should follow the sound of wood against flesh and splatters of fresh red. 

Nah. It could wait.

Instead, he looks up and admires how he couldn't count every single speckle of sparkling white. He doesn't want to be just like the stars above. He wants to feel it too. Infinite and powerful.

-

That day was the first time Raph took him to the human world.

He vividly remembers throwing a tantrum, kicking his legs and flailing his arms on the floor when Raph told him he couldn't go with him. It was unfair that Splinter let Raph go when he was only a year younger than him. So to keep him satisfied, he remembers trying to contain how giddy and excited he felt when Raph let out an irritated groan, telling him to grab his bag. He told him he could accompany him dumpster diving if he swore not to tell dad or the others, and how that day was only a one time thing. Not trusting his voice to crack, Leo furiously nodded.

They ventured off at the crack of dawn. Leo tailed behind Raph, watching in awe how his older brother effortlessly lifted the manhole lid and instructed him to stick by. From a distance, he could vaguely hear his older brother call his name, but he was too distracted that he forgot what he was there for. 

He never knew how beautiful the morning sky was. Nothing ever came close to making him felt how breathtaking the scene was. Almost hypnotizing, the midnight blue faded into a stream of orange and pink and yellow. The colors were softer than the ones from Mikey's chunky art kit. He felt like he was swimming in the warm pool of colors, before he was rudely interrupted by Raph dragging him by the arm.

After picking out a handful of useful junk, Leo knew they had to leave for home, yet he couldn't help but feel disappointed. Why couldn't they leave the Lair? Living above was far better than lounging around in the dirty sewers. And plus, none of the humans he saw were what Dad said they'd be. Yada yada they're dangerous you don't know what they're capab... capit... he doesn't know what they can do to him.

Carefully jumping off the nearby rooftop, he kicked a nearby pebble. Raph must've noticed somewhere along their way back home, because without much warning, he whacks his shoulder and screams, "Tag, you're it!"

Leo twists the bag of goods stuffed in there. It's filled to the brim. "I don't know, Raph. Dad's gonna get mad when he finds out I'm gone for too long."

He remembers feeling confused, because the Raph he knew was always a goody two shoes. Excluding the shoe bit, they didn't need those. He made sure that everyone knew he was a daddy's boy, but everyone knew Raph was the ideal son. Obedient, careful, and he learnt how to keep his anger intact. So it made sense how weird it was to see him other than that.

Raph hoisted his bag of goods over his shoulder, "So what, you're a chicken?"

His older brother made a couple imitated sounds of a chicken, riling Leo up.

It's so on. 

"Raph, quit being so fast," he remembers him trying to guilt trip his older brother so he got a chance at winning, but the other didn't stop. 

Looking behind his shoulder, Raph stuck his tongue out. "You snooze, you loose!"

A snarky laugh rattles from Raph's chest, leaving Leo pouting from his loss, but he was secretly loving every moment. Because going outside to the topside meant he was a big boy now.

In a desperate attempt to win, he rams himself against Raph's side, causing the snapping alligator's spiky carapace to collide hard against the pipes. 

Too lost in savoring his victory, Leo tripped over his footing, causing him to stumble and fall on his shell, desperately reaching for his bag tumbling over the edge. Heavy footsteps come trudging. He feels himself sliding down. Then he felt the ground before him leave. Then he was falling.

Immediately, a strong grip gets a hold on his arm, a strained groan heaves as he pulls the slider up. A retching clatter of metal scatters on the ground below. The hold he has starts to slip from how sweaty the both of them are, wincing at the sharp claws digging into him. He tries to turn back and see how far of a drop could cause that deafening echo, but a strangled, "Don't" begs him not to. He looks up.

Leo swallows, forced to look at the wretched look Raph wore, struggling to save the both of them. A single drop leaves Raph's twisted face, rolling down Leo's cheek.

Why was he the one crying? The fall wasn't even that far down.

After a couple pulls, Leo was no longer dangling and panicking about his inevitable end. It wasn't long before he felt Raph's bone crushing hug wrapped around him, except, it felt a little tighter than usual.

He kept hearing his brother's shaky voice repeat, "It's okay. You're okay. You're safe." And truth be told, Leo was also feeling disturbed. He would've been turtle soup had Raph not caught him in time. So like he usually would, Leo would make a joke out of his near-death experience and Raph would roll his eyes, briefly forgetting what happened moments before. Making him feel thirteen all over again.

Leo had to keep a cool front, because who will?

-

Leo knows that he shouldn't be out last minute shopping for someone he barely knows, let alone parkouring on the rooftops. Nonetheless, it was better than staring at the same ceiling covered with glow in the dark stars. Would he willingly submit to dreaming the same lifeless planet over and over again? You must've been out of your mind if you thought so.

It was important to him that he made Usagi right at home. You could call him stupid, idiotic, reckless, and Donnie's personal favorite, a dum dum. But heartless wasn't one of them.  

Leo hums deeply in thought. He eyes between the 'I heart New York', and the 'Make America Great Again' with a realistic eagle behind the American flag. Both are equally bland and generic. But then again, it's not like Usagi would even think it's cringe, considering his sheltered country bumpkin lifestyle.

He shrugs and tosses both shirts into his shopping basket.

It wasn't long before a loud thud tore through the air. Instantly, a Foot soldier lands face first into a nearby stall of fruits, oranges and apples come tumbling away from the unconscious ninja and towards Leo. Nearby customers run to a safe place to hide and shop owners hurry to close early for the night. 

It wasn't necessarily uncommon for random fights to break loose in within the night markets, yokai would pick a fight left and right if it meant they earned extra cash or just to cause ruckus just for the fun of it. Most of them were enabled by him and his brothers if he was being honest, and it also didn't help that their enemies loved picking a fight during one of the most inconvenient places.

A comical yelp echoes, followed by a harsh crash into something wooden.

Actually, this is bad. This is looking really bad.

If he doesn't want another ass whooping, he better pick up the pace and get home asap. He can not risk returning home with an injury, no matter how skilled he was. His family will sniff him out like a blood thirsty hound. Quickly, Leo tried finding whatever he thought would interest Usagi, while trying to make himself look hidden. In retrospective, he thought he was doing a decent job. In front of him, he saw a basket of cliche magnets of famous locations and landmarks. The statue of liberty magnet glimmers beneath the artificial moonlight. Leo wiggles his fingers before going for the grab. 

Does Usagi even have a fridge to put this on? Leo questions. Reaching for the magnet, a violent crash sent the basket of metal and other overpriced merchandise scattering across the floor. 

Leo doesn't think he has every let out a scream that high. Maybe he should be glad that it wasn't in front of an audience of many, but rather two figures wrestling each other on the floor. And wow, couldn't his night get even more interesting. He recognizes one of them. Scratch that, both of them. By now, he shouldn't be surprised why the samurai guy would be stirring up trouble. As much as the other would've liked it, Leo guesses that being a part time vigilante is bound to gain unwanted attention, thanks to the neighborhood eyes and news anchor. 

But what's even more unusual is that odd orange print on the other ninja's face. The Foot Clan? Why are they here? Clearly, it seems like they cut their retirement short and was already back in business. 

Maybe he'll consider talking to Casey about that. He adds another reminder to his mental checklist. Kicking the foot ninja off him, a beaten-up samurai claws the dirt towards his katana and looks up at an unimpressed Leo. His feverish eyes are quite literally begging him to help him. It's not long before the foot returns to his senses. It's hard not to say no to a helpless person in need of help. 

Crouching down, Leo meets the outlawed samurai at eye level and levers his hand out. The samurai does the same. He has this relieved look, most likely conveying his upmost gratitude towards the slider. Coming to save him despite the hell he put him and his siblings through the other night. They're so close, only mere fingertips apart. 

Leo snags the fallen magnet instead, not bothering to look back at the foot ninja dragging the vigilante back by the legs. 

Like he said, Leo didn't have a death wish. He chewed the inside of his lip after spotting a dark mark at the corner, repeatedly rubbing to make sure his eyes weren't playing with him. Oh great, this was the last one too. If he ignored the tiny scrape of paint at the bottom, then otherwise, it was still in a good condition.

Another loud crash was heard nearby.

As planned, he let out a noise of awe after spotting a packet of earplugs hanging by the counter, suddenly remembering Usagi mentioning how he had difficulty adapting to the noise levels. Must be hard not being able to filter out loud noises. He rushed on over. Raising the shiny rectangular packet of gray earplugs for a closer inspection, he even flipped to the back to see the size recommendations and yep. Usagi was going to sleep like a newborn baby during an apocalypse with these. 

A blueberry lightly hit him from behind. Leo pretends he didn't feel a thing and went about his shopping spree. Then strawberry came rolling in, and then an apple, then an orange. A grumbling sound drew from his mouth. Can't he see that he was busy? Just in time, he ducks before some large fruit came soaring above his head at an abnormal speed, colliding with the portable stereo. He looks back at the wires flickering sparks of electricity, before looking back at the samurai trying to get his attention. It appears that even he's struggling to fend of the masked assailant. Amidst getting the slider's attention, the Foot ninja knees him in the groin, sending the outlaw into a surge of agony before Leo watched him curl into a ball and be dragged away once more.

Leo physically recoils. Yeah, definitely a dude.

Should've thought twice before messing with me last time.

While he isn't interested in getting involved with whatever brawl the vigilante has going on, what does is the billboard from afar. Boarded obscenely bright lights, it's hard to miss that signature purple suit and silver bob. The huge tacky header makes him stare a little longer. He's heard of the party Big Mama was hosting, and it’s hard not to when she’s everywhere. Something about donating funds to a charity or auctioning something crazy. Whatever it was, he knows she's up to no good; she was a literal walking red flag. But figuring out what's going on behind the scenes of her scheming could wait.

He was probably overthinking it. 

Triumphantly, he holds the shopping basket closely to his plastron. Mission successful. Now all he had to do was debated whether or not it was worth wrapping up the gifts.

Something isn't right. But then again, it would be too good to be true if his night went unexpectedly smoothly. Not wanting to be reminded of the nauseating darkness, he looks at one spot of the shop, focusing long and hard on his surroundings.

Lots of footsteps. Light yet lightning fast.

He watches as all of the Foot ninjas come at once, most likely to where the fight broke loose. They've got the samurai surrounded, which is good. But unfortunately, not so great for Leo. Because that means he's also caught up in whatever unresolved beef the vigilante brought upon himself. And not to boost his skyrocketing ego already, but he has a pretty unforgettable face, so the chances of the foot clan also targeting him aren't slimming any time soon.

Leo sucked a breath watching each blow. Punch after another, the outlaw does some sick move that was too fast for Leo to see, and frees himself from the confinement of the Foot, heaving deep breaths while maintaining his stance. He knows that he's outnumbered. Was this the same guy that skillfully took out him and his brothers in a matter of minutes?

The slider turns his back away from the fight. Without a doubt, he doesn't want to get his hands dirty. Everything he needed is right in front of him. He could forget that pitiful look that red eyed stranger gave him and forget what happened tonight. All that's left for him is to blend with the shadows and safely make his way back home, quickly before any of his brothers wake up.

To blend in and hope he isn't different. Like what he usually does.

Leo stands high and tall at the same rooftop as before.

He supposes that the perks of being a ninja trained after a father (he feels himself recoil uttering that) who accidentally unleashed an evil spirit locked away due to his family feud and traumatic experiences, is his ability to be quick on his feet. He knew Splinter had some issues, so the faster he learnt, the quicker he didn't have to hear about the tiny snippets of his previous life. And the worst part was how it wasn't all bad; it was fairly decent. It was how he felt about them.

Slowly making his way back, he wished that Splinter's training could've at least taught him how to block out background noises better. As the evening grows quieter, the discomforted grunts resurface in the back of his mind. He trudged forward.

No. Don't go there, brain. He's nothing but trouble.

But then why did those ruby eyes look at him like that. Calling him out for not just a fight, but to fight to his limit. So full of sorrow. Almost as if the samurai was mourning for something lost not by him, despite winning. 

Leo grit his teeth. He could feel the moonlight shower him away from the towering shadows of nearby buildings, luring him out of the dark and into the chaos that was about to unfold below him.

-

"Any final words?"

Usagi rolled his eyes. He wonders if one could be arrested for how cheesy that sounded. If that were the case, then Leo would've been sentenced to life in prison. 

Why am I even thinking of him at a time like this, Usagi quickly wipes a grin off his face. By the looks of it, he wasn't going to be the one having the final laugh given the state he was in. He's fought petty crooks and burglars up to no good, but these people were a different level. He heard of them before. It's hard not to when they make weekly appearances, the night markets or anywhere secluded seem to be their usual respawn area. Usagi could laugh at how uncreative the name sounds all he wants, but he couldn't deny how skilled they worked as one. The Foot Clan were an actual threat. Well, he would feel more threatened if there wasn't a literal foot shaped print on each face. Kind of ruins the whole intimidating presence they were hoping to achieve. 

A whistle tears through.

That's strange. Whistling was supposed to be his thing. And as childish as it may sound, he always wanted to make some grand appearance before he got down to business. As sadistic as it may sound, he relished the fear sparked in a no-gooder's eyes having been caught in the middle of a crime. In which, it probably sounded stupid saying it out loud, but Usagi thought it sounded cooler in his head.

Too caught in figuring out who could've possibly made that sound, he forgot the situation he was dealing with. The Foot ninja yanked him forward.

He snarls as of the ninja's grabbed him by the cloak, his toes barely touching the ground.

Discreetly, Usagi reaches for his pocketknife tucked away in his thick waistband. He most certainly wasn't going down without a fight. The ninja rummages something from behind. 

Most likely their knife or whatever.

"Wanted posters sure pay a handsome amount, don't they?" The sharp edge of the knife raised just above the ninja's head, the cool metal glimmering beneath the pale moonlight. So he was right. Usagi prepares himself for the force of the blow, cloak shielding his deathly grip on the small blade. He hopes that EdgeWing is strong enough. "Suit yourself, kid."

But the strike doesn't come.

Instead, he's met by a blur of blue knocking the Foot ninja's knife out of his hands, both weapons clattering on the floor from the impact. He steadies himself, watching the ninja clasp upon his injured hand, hissing at the seeping red dripping onto the ground. He looks down at the weapon speared and his breath stills. 

His ears pick up a heavy weight sliding down the nearby drainpipe.

"Grh.. You'll pay for this!"

Another ninja charges behind him. But before he could even react, a flash of green punches his opponent, sending the ninja crashing down. The figure before him is heaving heavily, shaking away the pain from his bruised knuckle.

He recognizes that blue mask anywhere.

Without sparing a second to waste, he uses this opportunity to quickly pick up his abandoned katana. A swarm of Foot ninjas' close in on them, trapping them within their makeshift barrier. Looks like he's in for it now. Even while he's being ganged up so unfairly, he can't help but think how crazy everything is. How ironic is it? A samurai teaming up with a ninja? While fighting off a mob of ninjas? He would have to find another word to replace dishonourable, and he can, just not in English. Man, speaking a second language sure is hard. Maybe he should've stuck around for those free Sunday English classes.

With hungry eyes approaching them, his back softly bumps against the silky fabric of purple, silently admiring the dragon print embroidered at the center. Oh wow, that's actually so nice. He'd kill to have such a soft jacket. Never mind, Usagi supposes that Leo could be a cool ninja. Putting aside his petty jealously, he focuses on the angry horde ready to pounce at the given opportunity, eyeing for an opening to make an escape. He can hear Leo pushing back his sleeves, his grip fastens on the blue handle.

And he still doesn't get it. It was obvious that he wanted Leo to lend him a hand, it would've made his life a whole lot easier, but he wasn't expecting him to actually follow up and help him. Not after everything he has put him through. Because surely, he must have some kind of ulterior motive. No one could be that foolish.

He jolts at the sudden string of sound, feeling a flinch from behind as well. He's glad that he wasn't the only one that was caught by surprise. Anchoring his neck forward, he notices how the tune came from the shop Leo was at, and also how the thread of noise wasn't nonsensical but actual music. Huh. What kind of shop was he even shopping at? Working at Run of the Mill lead him to believe that what was playing, was Spanish music of some kind. The weight against his back disappears, leaving him secretly yearning for the same warmth. Not because he enjoyed Leo's company, but because he was actually cold.

Leo reaches his hand forward, waiting for another to occupy it. He even goes as far as to bow. "May I take up this dance with you, good sir?"

He’s being sarcastic, isn’t he?

The music faintly plays in the background and the Foot henchmen begin to attack. Why couldn't they fight like normal people?

Leather brown collided with scaly green.

He doesn’t know if his eyes were playing tricks on him, but it's almost as if he saw Leo's eyes twinkle. Immediately, Leo clenches onto his arm tight and spins the both of them around. Which was a strange attack itself, he’s never seen anything like that. Must be a ninja thing. The Foot seem unsure whether they want to be swept away in the chaos tirred.

"This is a bad idea. A very bad idea,” a husky voice emits from his mask. It’s not the voice he expected it to be, but he lets out a held breathe realizing Leo has yet caught on. He doesn’t know who lies beyond the mask. It should stay like that.

"Oh, so you can speak?" Leo bites back.

"Only to people who don't make me physically gag," Usagi lets a smile slip after hearing an offended gasp. The clash of metal and pants filled the air. "You're funny. Has anyone told you that you would make a great comedian?"

"Not enough, but thanks for confirming."

"And you’re sure you know what you're doing?"

"Watch and learn."

Leo stops spinning and turns to him. Straightening his back, lifting both his and Usagi’s arm to the height of their shoulders. The dusty Earth became their dance floor and the moon their disco ball. The Foot were nothing but other dancers that he and Leo were trying to bypass. This was no longer a deathly fight.

His body became one with the music, every twirl and step matching the rhythm. Leo’s eyes looked at him intently, his smile infectious. The sharp scent of sweat and grime was all he could take in, even through the air pockets of his mask. The music was a feisty beast, synchronising to the heartbeat of each dancer on the floor, pulsating each erratic beat pounded through his chest. He was by far a professional dancer, but he felt like one following Leo’s lead. Without even realising, his feet effortlessly glided past his enemies with his katana fluidly blocking and striking, counterparting Leo’s flawless equal.

He ignores how only Leo doesn’t use that weird magic, unlike his brothers, opting to fight the old fashion way. Turtles are weird.

From behind, he hears a katana sheath and two hands latched onto his waist, lifting him up. A grunt escaped the slider’s mouth. Usagi’s eyes widened at the sudden change of pace, still fending away the Foot ninjas, yet too lost in the way Leo looked at him. Staring like he’s the only important person. He grips Leo’s hoodie like his life depends on it.

Simply breathtaking.

“Hey. What do you think you’re-”

“Hope you think as fast as you fight.”

A soft oof left his mouth, glaring at him but only to realise what was going on. They’re back at where Leo made his grand entrance. How did they even escape? He doesn’t get it, he should’ve realised where they were heading. 

He doesn’t understand how time could go by so quickly. He wasn’t having fun. He wasn’t.

 His palms feverishly climbed up the drainpipe, hearing Leo tail behind but not without struggle, the Foot catching up to his plan. Clasping onto Leo’s hand, he pulls him up before the both of them run. From the corner of his eye, he spots Leo cradling his arm. A familiar redness begins to seep through. He bites his lip, directing his eyes elsewhere.

On his right, he spots a thick pipe from a water tank sporting a huge spiky indent on the side, appearing to be on the verge of leaking. Usagi doesn’t think he wants to meet whoever did that. Breaking the pipe loose and distracting the Foot with it would be easy, but escaping them would be another story. He looks down at the drop. Yeah, that doesn’t look too good.

He whistles for Leo’s attention before saying, “Help me kick the pipe.” Leo nods at runs to his support.

Usagi flinches from the metal. It’s hot to the touch. He watches as Leo follows his lead, stomping and kicking, even using his katana to slice it open, but it’s not budging. At this rate, they’ll be beaten up to a pulp if Usagi doesn’t think of anything. He signals Leo to keep slicing while he pushes the pipe outwards. They’re making progress, but not without trouble. He can feel himself being somewhat cooked alive as he pushes, ignoring how the sweat weighs him down. The heel of his foot is slipping. Maybe he should invest in some sort of footwear. 

The pipe’s boiling hot and it takes everything in Usagi to not back down. But he pushes through.

For what seemed like an eternity, the pipe breaks loose and pours out a haze of heat and gray, thick enough to keep them hidden, but thin enough to see where the Foot are. Usagi looks down at his hand. A perplexed look splits across his face, flipping his palm front to back. Huh. No burn marks?

Usagi tugs Leo’s sleeve to their escape route.

“Hey uh. Ronin? I’m gonna call you that from now on, thanks. Yeah um, thanks for saving my butt back there. Even though it was more me and less you.”

“Spit it out,” Usagi interrupts.

“Where’s the exit?”

“Where you think it is.”

Leo looks at him, then breathlessly chuckles. He tried thinking hard, but Usagi still doesn’t get what part of this plan he thought was funny. Not when it’s a thirty ft long drop, with garbage bags softening their fall. Okay, now he kind of gets why Leo was so hesitant.

He steps down to a window ledge below, hand clamped on the building edge while ignoring Leo’s frantic calls to be careful. 

“I just. There has to be some other way.”

“There is,” Leo’s frown line softens. “Just make a U-turn. Your destination should be where the Foot are. Have a good evening.”

“WAIT wait! Fine. I’ll jump.”

“Do a flip.”

“Not funny man,” he sees the small smile forming on his lips. He spots the familiar crowd walking towards the mist. 

“Now is a good time, Kappa.”

“I’m going. I’m going! Just give me a few minutes,” Leo barked back, pacing back and forth to hype himself up. Usagi could feel Leo’s heart sink, watching him peering over the ledge and looking down at the drop. One miss from the dumpster and he’s a goner. He tries to take in a deep breathe, but it was too much for him to handle. And strangely enough, he relates to him. He remembers feeling frozen on the spot during his first time. The confident smile Leo wore became something unrecognizable. The terror held the slider like a ice-like grip.

“We don’t have minutes for this. Only seconds. And I don’t have time for this,” Usagi looks him straight in the eyes. He pushes down the sinking feeling of his own heart at the sight of Leo’s stricken look. “I know you can do this.”

Leo shakes his head.

Usagi could see that Leo wanted to, his eyes determined, but his body refused. Where did the snarky Leo, the one that raced him to see who could get more twirls, go? All he saw was a little boy with a big wish.

“Just jump. I’ll be right behind you, and you won’t feel a thing.”

Usagi lends his hand out, looking at him with desperate eyes. He could hear the swift run and whispers from the Foot, approaching them sooner or later. They’re going to be caught and captured and forcibly involved in whatever plan the Foot have, at this rate. Leo purses his lips. 

“And how do I know what you’re saying is true?”

Usagi wishes he could facepalm, if it weren’t for the fact that his hands are busy.

His footing on the window ledge is starting to slip. Usagi’s eyes are moving rapidly, trying to find an answer to satisfy Leo’s question. What he said was true in a sense. He had no obligation to fully trust him, and he wishes this was something that could be thought over in a couple business days. 

“I’m not supposed to be all buddy-buddy with you. Everyone, and I mean it when literally everyone I know, says you’re bad news. But mostly Raph. Yeah, that guy hates you for sure. And how will I know you won’t backstab me later?”

“Because I would’ve left you to die!” The sudden yell sent him and Leo into shock. He hasn’t raised his voice in a long time. It’s straightforward and blunt, but how else would he get his message around if he was constantly beating around the bush. “You just have to trust me. Please.”

And just like that, the strain in his iron grip disappears. Gone, just like that. He helplessly watches Leo’s face morph into horror as his weight drags him down, hands still reaching out for Leo to grasp onto. A final opening to face his fears. Without missing a beat, Leo dives down and grabs onto his hand, holding it for dear life as the both of them nosedive head first.

By the time the Foot ventured beyond the stifling hot vapour, the clan searched all around but found no trace of their targets. It didn’t help that there were hundreds more buildings yet explored. Next time, it is. All of them turned their backs, too caught up in grumbling their pent frustrations to hear the dumpster bin close.

-

“It’s been a couple minutes, I don’t get why we can’t leave,” Leo swats the air before leaning behind. The garbage bags very much stinks, but it’s better than having hard concrete cushioning his fall. “The Foot aren’t that bright. It should be good to go.”

“Do you want to get caught?”

“We’re not going to get caught.”

Leo looks at him with a pinched expression, but Ronin’s eyes doesn’t meet his. Instead, he looks at the slider’s side. Leo tries to move his arm, trying to find the source of the other’s attention, wincing at the sticky feeling instead. The dark red spreads even more. The wound, or large paper cut in this case, must’ve been from the origami figures he was trying to dodge during the rooftop chase. So much for a peaceful evening.

“You’re hurt.”

“No kidding,” Ronin dismisses his bitter remark and yanks the injured arm forward. Carefully rolling back the sleeves, he watches the samurai rotate his arm to better inspect the open wound. The cut in hindsight doesn’t look terrible, it just feels worser than it looks. “Not cool, dude! What gives?”

“Cloth. Do you have a clean cloth?”

Leo quits complaining and rummages through his fanny pack, disappointed to see no bandages in sight. How oddly inconvenient. He really should’ve restocked instead of binge reading his comics. The encounter with Usagi yesterday evening should’ve been a warning sign.

Taking no for an answer, the samurai leaves his spot and sits in front of Leo, making himself comfortable. Before he could even rip the purple silk, Leo stammers. “You can’t use that.”

“So, you would rather have an infection than rip a piece of some silky jacket,” Ronin looks at him unamused. 

He starts cleaning around the raging red on Leo’s arm.

“Even you think it’s nice. OUCH! What the hell!?”

“You’ll live.”

“ That hurts, like, hurts a lot. Would it kill you to be a bit more gentle!? I just can’t, okay? That’s Don’s favorite jacket, I wouldn't do that to him,” the same horrific realization settles back. He looks back on the state of the purple cloth, rubbing his eyes and hopes that he doesn’t see the shredded state it’s in. Reopening his eyes, he groans. It’s still in that pitiful state. Donnie wasn’t going to kill him, he was going to gut him alive. “Oh my god it’s Don’s favorite jacket.”

“Then your mask.”

“I… uh,” Leo scratches the back of his neck. He looks away. “They don’t know I’m out.”

Ronin stills, leaving Leo alone with his mind racing. There was always the possibility that he would ditch him, expose him to the Foot, because how could he not? The vigilante had no reason to help him, like how he had no purpose to help him fend away the Foot. But what he did next was beyond his imagination. 

The sound of a fabric tearing catches his attention. Before he could even get a word out, his heated attitude immediately died down, opting to sit quietly while Ronin continued to strip a piece of his black cloak. How uncharacteristically… nice of him. At that very moment, Leo was invited into what was beyond the mystic cloak.

He’s seen Splinter regularly wear traditional Japanese clothes to know what a hakama looks like. And yet, it seems he’s swapped the pants for something baggier, almost like sweatpants. The wooden armor plates taped were old news, but something else captured his attention. 

If he looks long enough, he could see a circle with three dots by Ronin’s chest.

He passes his hand sanitizer bottle to the other. “This is literally the worst place to patch someone up. Let alone how unhygienic it is.”

The sound of rapid murmurs could be heard beyond the thin metal walls.

“Okay, my prince. Why don’t we take this outside, hm? Because surely, we won’t be caught, and our efforts on escaping weren't in vain,” he lets out a frustrated breath. And the slider clearly stated beforehand that he simply can’t wait any longer to tend his wounds. Ronin doesn’t understand him sometimes. Leo sticks his tongue out. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Oh, now is the fun part. Not trusting which bit of trash is the cleanest, which was paradox itself, he shoves his mask tails between his teeth. Something to bite on.

Tightening the grip on the gashed arm, Ronin showers the wound with the liquid. Leo lets out a muffled groan. 

“You should be glad it wasn’t deep enough to need stitches.”

Which felt like the equivalency of saying “You should be glad I returned the knife I stabbed you with,” but Leo was too worn out to utter another word. He just wanted to take a really long nap. Leo lazily observes as the samurai straightens the torn cloth. His leathered palm rests beneath Leo’s, the other methodically wrapping the black fabric over and over.

He finds it fascinating how intricate and neat the bandaging appears, coughing into his fist, “How did you know my name?”

The pace slows down. Leo watches as Ronin looks anywhere but him. “You’re not very quiet.”

If he was being completely honest, he doesn’t really like the answer. But it’s not typical to have a wanted man patching you up, despite battling him nights before. If Leo had a nickel for every time Ronin tried to kill him yet showed him mercy, he would have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice.

Filling in the quiet void, Ronin shuffles in his spot. Wanting to ask something but is unsure if the timing was right. Still, Leo patiently waits for him.

“The butterfly. What was that?” Leo gives him a quizzical look, his mind clicking when his rival makes the fluttering movement on his chest.

Oh. Now Leo could see why he was so uncertain. Even though he’s not happy with what Ronin did to Donnie, he doesn’t see why it doesn’t hurt to share. All he could do was hope he didn't sound anything other than lame. “That ‘ol thing? Psh. Just a breathing technique me and my twin use. Calms down the nerves, y'know?"

Ronin just nods, but Leo has a hunch he doesn't.

A relaxed smile crossed his face. The finishing touch of a bow was oddly touching. Ronin placed an ear above the metal wall of the dumpster, lifting the hatch before gesturing Leo out. Seems like the Foot finally lost interest.

“Oh wait, I need to grab something real quick.” 

Still unsure by Leo’s intentions, the samurai tailed behind him. After walking for a couple minutes down the alleyway, the slider rushes towards a heap of black garbage bags, continuing to claw his way to the bottom. 

He returns with two bags stuffed with goods and a smile on his face.

“I can walk home by myself,” Leo places his hands on his hips, asserting a confrontational stance. He still hasn’t forgotten his fuming spite for the samurai.

“And you remembered to bring medical supplies this time. Let’s go.”

The samurai snatches one of the bags, pretending not to hear Leo’s bargaining. In the end, he just gives up and keeps on walking.

And they left. The awkward silence became less tense and more peaceful as time went on, the two admiring the endlessness of the night sky, not speaking a single word. Leo doesn’t know how much time has passed, but he was almost near the entrance before he knew it.

He steps on the doormat.

“Hold up! There’s something I wanna to ask you,” Ronin’s head tilts, waiting for Leo to go on. He takes a deep breath in. “I’ve heard about you everywhere. It’s hard not to. And the way I heard you fight is crazy impressive. Don’t give me that look, I’m not complimenting you.”

Leo fiddles with the bag strap. It’s the reusable bag Raph crocheted years ago. 

“But you seemed so. Confident. Like, no matter how big of a fight you pick, you always come out winning. So how do you do it? When do you know to face something you’re scared of?”

Leo doesn’t know what’s come up with him. They’re not even at the acquaintances stage yet. But who else could he ask? He most definitely couldn’t risk feeling even more burdensome if he told the others, but he also didn’t want his only family to feel burdened by his troubles. 

“You won’t. You’ll be ready when you know it.”

Wow. Cryptic much? But it’s whatever. Leo asked, and he received. 

He points his finger at the other.

“Don’t think for a second that I’m nice to you, all ‘cause you patched me up… but thanks. Thanks again, Ronin,” the samurai doesn’t even retort back, he just defeatedly accepts the nickname.

Leo snatches away the bag and slips past the security system. The door hisses open. Looking around, his eyes go up, looking heavenward. The lair is still pitch black. Thank god no one’s awake yet.

A single click from the lamp switches on. He quickly looks back at the gaping door. 

Ronin is long gone.

“Go to bed, Mike,” he marches past the younger turtle, hurrying to his room. Better that one of his brothers catches him rather all of them. Mikey steps in front of his room at the last second.

“You really should be glad I covered your ass. The both of us would’ve been toast.”

“Yeah, I am,” his flat tone says otherwise. A smaller palm seizes his injured arm, Leo bracing for the pain. Mikey frowns. Sandwiching the bags in a secure spot, he side hugs his younger brother. “I know and I appreciate it. Your big bro just wants some fresh air.”

Mikey snuggles closer.

“You know you can tell us anything, right?”

Leo weakly smiles at him. He doesn’t think he can do that. Not yet, at least. 

He just hopes Usagi likes the gifts.

Chapter Text

Usagi was beyond thrilled to receive Leo's gift.

Even when it's contained in a paper bag that looks like it’s been through hell and back. Especially when the things inside are so poorly taped with candy cane and reindeer patterned wrapping paper. And it’s not even near Christmas. Leo looks at him expectedly. Even with a poised smile, the way he intuitively presses his elbow on the table clearly shows that he’s not as confident as he’s trying to appear. The thundering bounce of the slider’s leg would drive anyone to the brink of insanity, but Usagi isn’t in the mood to say anything snarky.

He did this... all for me? Usagi reflects. There are so many things inside that Usagi doesn’t know where to start. The palm of his hand hovers each one, undecided which to pick from, before he takes out a soft looking one. Pieces of shredded green and red slowly float to the ground. In the background, he can hear Leo talk about his adventurous day bumming around his room before his physio appointment, whining about how achy his muscles would feel once Winter rolls around. But Usagi on the other hand, thinks it sounds nice. Not that he knows what it looks like. He’s only heard how it feels and seen what it looks like through picture books. Neo Edo was one of the unfortunate places to not be blessed with the chilling frost, and he’s glad to hear that the Hidden City wasn’t the case. And maybe if he doesn’t leave before December, he and Leo could see it happen. 

Just him and Leo. The soft fabric of grey clenches beneath his hold. 

Usagi doesn’t know what look Leo has on right now, because he’s trying so hard to look nonchalant and unbothered. His eyes stay glued on the shirt in front of him. It has this over-the-top design of a realistic eagle soaring, and what seems to be an American flag and huge explosion behind. Usagi doesn’t know if he’s feeling shocked or surprised. Definitely both. It’s so stupid, but it would probably be weird if Leo got him something normal looking. But he still holds onto it just a little longer. Probably more than he should’ve. 

“Are you that grossed out?” Leo barks out a laugh. It sounds more forced than usual.

Usagi moves on to the next gift. It’s another shirt. The more the merrier, but he doesn’t know what ‘NY’ stands for. Maybe it's some slang Westerners use. “It’s decent enough. And you thought of this? In a couple days?”

He coughs into his fist, masking his smirk at Leo’s shocked face. 

“Have it your way,” Leo pouts. “I’m just happened to be a fast turtle mutant.”  

"Mu-Say what?" 

"I'll get into it another time," out of the corner of his eye, he notices Leo drop his tense shoulders and slouch his back.

Everything flies by quick. In actuality, there wasn’t much to uncover, mostly due to Leo’s horrendous gift-wrapping skills that gave off the illusion his presents were huge. The pile of torn wrapping paper slowly builds up beside his chair and around him, but that’s not important. It could wait. He carefully lays each item on the table. Two shirts, a fridge magnet of some green lady with a torch ("That's the Statue of Liberty." Usagi stares at Leo with an unreadable expression. "You really do live under a rock. I'll add it to our bucket list of places to visit."), and some snacks Usagi was definitely looking forward to savor. But the last gift at the near bottom catches his eye.

Without realizing, his hand reaches out for the small box. Usagi tears open the packaging immediately.

“Woah woah, slow down buddy. It’s not going anywhere,” Leo chuckles. In comparison, it was the blandest looking thing out of everything else. Anyone would've thought nothing of it. "But uh. Ahem. You looked kinda tired, and I thought it would help."

A pair of teal earplugs falls onto his palm. 

He looks back at Leo with a softened gaze. Words splutter from his mouth and the right words don't come out and it's so damn frustrating not being able to say a simple thanks. What's got into him? And as embarrassing as it may sound, Usagi was glad Leo remembered. It makes him feel... oddly seen. Even when he hates his guts, having someone remember such a minuscular issue that had been bothering him for some time, it gave off a feeling he thought he wouldn't feel again. This tingling, disgustingly fuzzy warmth that he tells himself he doesn't miss.

It made Usagi look forward to spending more time with him.

His fingertips stuffed the earplugs further in his ear until he was satisfied. Usagi lets out a contempt sigh. It fits like a glove. He almost forgot what silence sounded like. Everything and everyone around him sounded muffled. The bounce of Leo’s leg, whatever is on the news channel, his own heartbeat! If he had known such a thing existed, then he would have robbed each store empty.

Is this what Heaven feels like? 

Usagi looks to his side, curious at Leo’s sudden interest in what he has to say. He sets the earplugs down.

"You're smiling."

"So?"

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile like that. That big, I mean," Leo busies himself by digging inside the paper bag. Though, it doesn't look like he's searching for anything in particular, but more like he's distracting himself from ogling Usagi. Usagi picks up quiet, "It's cute" amidst the rummaging. He doesn't get why it's so hard to get a breath out, and why it's only happening now. It's stuck and lodged in his throat. Perhaps he ate something funny earlier. 

“It’s nice, but I was expecting more,” Usagi teases. Typically, speaking so boastfully would’ve landed him a hard whack on the head by Karasu-Tengu. After all, she was the one that taught him the Bushido Code. “Don’t you have a brother that is tech savvy?”

His eyes trail to the bundle of medical supplies Leo gifted.

“The Bushido Code, also known as the Seven Virtues of the Samurai, mustn't be taken lightly. One is required to always act courteous to everyone around. You should never impose the expression of respect, which includes belittling your enemies in a street fight,” he recalls his sensei lecturing him the same speech over the years under her wing. “Didn’t you say you wanted to be just like your ancestor, Miyamoto Usagi?”

He doesn’t dare look her in the eyes. 

Training itself was fine, but Usagi was destined to grow tired of repetition. He wants something new. Was it so wrong to have some fun?

He remembers shielding himself away from her gaze, standing too still for someone usually bursting with energy, yet too ashamed to show her the bruise from being kicked in the stomach. Despite being disappointed, she ushers him to a bench and stretches a strip of adhesives. She patched him up silently before dismissing him for the day.

Usagi tightens his ponytail. 

He doesn’t understand why a memory like that has resurfaced at a time like this. That happened ages ago, and there wasn’t anything special about that either. Just an average training session. He was no longer her student, and she was no longer his teacher. She wasn’t here to baby him anymore.

“Twin. And let me tell you, he makes these INSANEE tech things that are literally so cool. And if I could, I’d give you one of his prototypes lying around. And when I say he has a bunch, I mean it. But,” Leo distracts himself by scooping the bits of wrapping paper on the floor. He heads to the trash can. “I don’t want him to know about you. Nothing bad! Love him, hate him, you can't blame a guy for wanting some things for himself. He just has this tendency to uh. Obsessively monitor where we are. And once he finds out there's an extra guy with his trademarked tech, then I’m the one he’s gonna interrogate first.”

Leo shivers at the thought of that, brushing off Usagi’s confusion before taking his seat. Huseo retired into his office after learning Usagi was ‘supervising’ Leo. So it was just him, Leo, and an audience of empty seats.

“And he’s always like this?”

Leo scoffs. “When was he not? It’s either fixing things that need to be repaired, or upgrading his tech. Or whatever. It’s just. He’s been keeping a closer eye on us after we healed up from our last fight.”

“Must’ve been one nasty fight, huh?” Usagi sits closer to him, hoping it’ll lift up his mood. Clearly it didn’t work, because Leo instantly sinks into his seat. Tracing the rim of the cup, Usagi hears a muffled, “Yeah” leave Leo’s mouth. Was he this bad at words? What a fight that must’ve been to make him frozen in place. Usagi decides to drop the topic. Now doesn’t seem like a good time to mention it. 

“But it’s fine. Don’t worry about it! It was a long time ago-”

A small rumble interrupts from Leo's stomach. Leo clamps his mouth shut, scrambling to get up. Usagi follows suit. 

“Sorry I uh. Looks like I’ve stayed longer than expected,” Leo nervously laughs. “I must be boring you out of your mind.” he adds. Usagi frowns.

“Going home so soon?”

“My stomach says otherwise. I’ll probably just stop by that Korean corndog place. Or just any street vendor."

Usagi watches him pat his leg and stand. Leo walks past him and to the door, but Usagi wants to do more than let him go. He shouldn’t like being around him. Building a companionship with the same person that hunted him down for weeks on end? That pointed his katana at him and belittled his sensei? Fat chance. "Night, Usa. Try not to miss me too much.” 

He doesn’t deserve my kindness, Usagi justified himself. But pointing the finger solely at Leo didn’t make it feel right either. What place was he in to say that when he did the exact same thing, if not worse. 

Usagi has seen many sides of Hamato Leonardo, both as a clumsy waiter and calculated samurai. Overconfident, egotistical, afraid. But he’s never really noted the good over the bad parts. He never considered how Leo tipped him extra whenever he and his brothers were rowdier than usual, or how he's conveniently there to distract Huseo whenever he's close to nodding off. Does he really deserve to be hated this badly?

The further Leo walked away, the more Usagi tried to think of something, anything to keep him from leaving the dimly lit inside and into the barren outside. But nothing came. Which was odd, because something like this has rarely happened. Unlike last night, he wasn’t wearing a purple satin jacket today, his shell out on display for all to see. Jagged cracks etched all over the slider’s shell, bits of fibreglass patches spreaded across. Usagi’s blood ran cold. He’s heard that turtle shells are hard to break.

Better not regret this.

Usagi leaps forward and grabs onto Leo’s arm. He hears the other suck in a breath. Oh yikes. He forgot about last night and the last minute patch up in the dumpster. He quickly backs away.

Leo looks at him curiously.

“No need. I could cook something for you. For the both of us,” Usagi pats down his sweaty palms on his apron. God, he probably sounds far from mysterious. “Afterhours is kind of boring when it’s just me.”

“But don’t you close up soon?”

Usagi waves a hand, “Who’s there to stop me?”

“Oh wooow, looks like we have a little rebel here.”

“Keep it up and you’ll get air for dinner.”

“That’s some premium deluxe air I’ll be getting, then.” Leo smiles at his empty threats. “And y’know, you could’ve just said you wanted company.”

Usagi rolls his eyes. He’ll let Leo have it. Just this once.

“Make yourself at home,”

“Don’t I always?”

-

The more Leo stares at the plate in front of him, the more Usagi genuinely thinks he messed up on a couple ingredients.

He didn’t think he would get this far, so one could imagine how chaotic everything was in the kitchen. Spices were flying left and right, and chopped vegetables were all over the place. And frankly, Usagi didn’t know what Leo liked other than pineapple pizza, and it’s not like he couldn’t make it, but rather he shouldn’t. He wanted to make something fresh, something new. Something Leo will remember once he's gone. So, he ignored every cookbook and relied on his instincts.

Usagi places a plate stacked with the savory pancakes.

“Since I’m also teaching you Japanese, I thought one of the easiest ways to learn about the culture is through tasting it,” he feels his mouth watering already. He hopes the same goes for Leo. 

Some of the edges are burnt and the mayo drizzled on top was probably too sweet, but if Leo wanted out, then he should’ve taken the chance when he had it.

Usagi warily watched as Leo took a bite out of the grilled goodness. He would be lying if he wasn’t concerned that the slider barely made any comment. Afterall, Leo did all this for him, so it would’ve made sense if Usagi returned the favour. But then he took another bite. Then another big one. Needless to say, he was certain that Leo had nothing but good things to say.

“Dude, you have got to tell me what that was. This is so good. I can’t describe it, but it has this buttery tangy taste that just EXPLODES in your mouth,” Leo makes these exaggerated hand pinching movements, mouth echoing a kaboom sound effect. He’s going on a tangent and describing the dish like those food critics Usagi sees once in a while. Leo points his fork at him. “If you don’t tell me, then I'll personally send Mikey after you. And he does NOT play around. The guy will definitely duct tape you to a chair and hunt down the recipe himself.”

“It’s nothing special. If you put it that way, you make it sound so complicated and elite. It’s a simple dish my auntie taught me as a kid, it tastes even better when seafood comes fresh in the market during weekends. A prawn and vegetable okonomiyaki. That’s what it’s called. It’s easy to make and you don’t need a lot of ingredients,” Usagi stammers.

“Well aren't you the show-off. I accidentally microwaved steamed buns for ten minutes. Steamed buns. And I had to throw out everything because it was practically glued to the plate.”

Honestly, he was no better. The only dishes cooked by his hand that appeared edible enough, were hardboiled eggs, fried okonomiyaki pancakes, and rice. So he really shouldn't make fun of Leo's lack of cooking skills. But he does so anyways. Just to see that scowl. And who even screws up on base level instructions?

Usagi almost spits out his water, “How can you mess up that badly?? It’s literally only two steps. That gives me another reason to not let you in the kitchen.”

“LIKE to be fair,” Leo has this ‘hear me out’ look. Usagi was not going to listen. “The instructions were super tiny, and I was having a heart to heart with April. So that’s why I didn’t read carefully.”

“More like, having a heart to heart on what glasses prescription she has.”

“WHERE IS THIS COMING FROM??”

“I only speak the truth, Leonardo-san.”

“YOU SPEAK LIES, THAT’S WHAT.”

They both have a stare down. It's not until Leo's constrained smile breaks loose, and Usagi has this deathly strong grip on his thigh to stop himself from laughing too. Come one, you're better than this. You're stronger than this, Usagi reminded himself. 

The sudden "pft" erupts and seals the deal. Usagi has his gloved hand over his mouth, and Leo hammering his fist on the table across.

The jukebox softly accompanies their increasingly erratic conversation with a foreign Spanish music. It’s not the same as the one from last time, but it has the same beat, Usagi notes.

Leo almost scrapes the plate clean before talking again.

“I didn’t know you knew how to cook, if I was being honest. And you know I don’t mean it like that! Don't blame me, I always see you hangin’ around the reception table.”

Usagi kicks the leg of the slider’s chair. He pours Leo more water before his own while he’s at it, “I don’t get why you keep underestimating me, I’m a rabbit of many talents.”

Maybe he worded it weirdly because of his accent, or maybe it was something else. But Usagi caught Leo looking at him weirdly. “Did I say something wrong?”

“What? No no, sorry. I just feel like I’ve had this conversation before… It must be deja vu or something.”

Usagi hums in response. He doesn’t remember exactly where he heard it, but he thought it sounded familiar. The cracked phone screen goes off mid conversation. After the second ping, he groans and caves in, taking matters into his own hands. Usagi wasn’t the nosy type, but it intrigued him how protective his brothers came off, eyeing the red icon of a turtle.

Leo types back to the message sent.

“Don’t worry, Usa. They still think I’m out 'tutoring' said waiter guy.”

Usagi pauses at Leo’s word of choice.

“They still don’t know about me?”

Leo laughs uncertainly. Usagi drops his fork on the table.

“Hey, you should be thanking me for saving you the trouble. They won’t stop badgering you with questions once they find out. Enjoy this freedom while it lasts, ‘cause there aren’t that many staff working here. And Donnie's memory is on point,” he bites into a slice of fried okonomiyaki. “Besides, it’s just a white lie. I am quote-on-quote tutoring you until. I dunno. Until next July or something.”

“I don’t think I’ll be staying until then.”

“Huh?”

"It's still undecided, but I'm not ruling out that possibility."

"Well aren't you glad I got you a welcome gift early. Heh," Leo rubs his arm. He swallows his chewed bit and looks at Usagi. “But that’s so soon. W-what about Huseo?”

“What about me?” goes unspoken.

Usagi plays with his uneaten slice. This shouldn’t be hard to say. It really shouldn’t. But even imagining a disappointed reaction on Leo made his skin itch. He didn’t have an answer to why. The mayo spread messily across the plate, flakes of squid and bits of prawn laid by the side. It barely looks appetizing now. Yet, eating it with someone always seemed to taste better.

“Oh um. You don’t have to continue, you don’t have to tell me everything. I get it. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Usagi looks at him, searching for any sign of malice behind his eyes. He has to be lying, acting nice to get his guard down and strike him where it hurts. Leaving Neo Edo did a number on him already. And yet, all he saw was how bright Leo’s eyes shone under the dimly lit lights. So bright and lively. Just looking at him. He wonders if they twinkle the color of Topaz under moonlight. He’ll see if he’s right the next time they meet, but not as friends.

Friends? He doesn’t know if he likes that or not.

Trying to distract Leo from the topic at question, he quickly shoves the last bite, his mouth barely able to fit it all. Usagi desperately fans his mouth from the heat cooking his taste buds alive, suffering from his last-minute idea, but glad it worked anyway. He watches as Leo quip a smirk at him and question, “Is this a challenge? Well, you’re on!” before shoving his portion and suffering the same fate as him. Worth it.

Leo smiles victoriously, pushing away his empty plate.

“Ready to admit your defeat, Usa?” He starts collecting both their plates. “You know what they always say. The turtle always wins the race.”

“That’s a bunch of nonsense.”

“It’s not baloney, it’s just the truth. Your words, not mine.”

The rabbit yokai rolls his eyes. “And try not to set the kitchen ablaze while you’re at it.”

“Oh C’MON. It was one time!”

His eyes chase Leo fleeting footsteps until he's gone into the kitchen area. A sigh escapes. Usagi likes to think Gen somewhat approves of his cooking. 

(He can't remember what the sweet aftertaste laced in the rhino's cooking tasted like.)

-

“If I’d known it was gonna be this cold, then I would’ve brought a jacket or something,” Leo clatters through his teeth.

“Well no kidding, all you wear are those shorts and that colossal ego of yours. It’s like walking out in public naked. Where has your dignity gone?”

“Abandoned in the sewers.”

He takes a deep breath in, trying not to struggle with the sudden heaviness weighing down his left shoulder, clutching onto the strap of the barrel bag. For a cloaking broach, it really shouldn’t be heavy. At all.

Usagi eyes him. He’s still rubbing the sides of his arms, shaking if not more than before. They’ve only been outside for a couple minutes, but Leo looks as if he’s been there for hours. And it should be the other way around, given that Leo was coldblooded. He would give him his jacket, but he’s also on the verge of frostbite.

Usagi stops in his tracks. He looks at Leo with his usual serious blank stare, lending out his right hand deprived of its usual glove. The star-like scar tissue stretches across the center of his palm. Leo stares at it longer than usual. “Uh. Okay?”

Immediately, Usagi grabs onto Leo’s volunteered hand and shoves it into his pocket. There, that should do the trick. Leo must be feeling warmer now, seeing how his face is all red. Problem solved.

They walk for a bit before Leo stops a couple footsteps away from the manhole cover. “Hold on. Before I leave for the night, I wanna tell you something.”

“Oh?"

“Even if you plan on leaving soon, I hope you enjoyed your stay here. I would be a pretty bad tour guide if I didn’t,” Leo clenches onto Usagi’s hand. “And the time crunch just gives me more the reason to make your stay count!”

Oh wow. Usagi didn’t know what to say. That must’ve been one of the nicest things Leo could even say, considering his annoying personality.

Usagi smiles at him softly. “But thank you, Leonardo-san. It means the world to me. And I apologise for my previous behaviour. I think we got off on the wrong foot. You’re an okay guy.”

"Aw, gee," Usagi watches Leo break eye contact. Suddenly finding anywhere but him interesting. “Quit it with the formalities. Just call me Leo.”

“Then stop calling me Usa.”

“I think I’ll pass. And you’re not so bad yourself, cottontail.”

Usagi leans forward.

“You’re face is redder than usual," he places the back of his hand on Leo's forehead. "Are you feeling unwell?”

Escaping his intense look, Leo quickly let's go of his hand. Usagi doesn't just pick up the sharp intake of breath. He can hear Leo’s heart pound as if he’s ran a marathon. Maybe he caught something bad but has yet realized. Probably best he returns home and rests up anyways. “Oh wow. Gee, sure is getting late. Gotta go now. BUT. Remember, I’ll show you around the place in about two weeks from now?”

Usagi shrugs, seeing no point denying. “Don’t see why not. I've got nothing better to do.”

“Great! It’s a date!” Leo’s eyes widen. “I meant the da-date is soon. So don’t forget!”

Usagi waves him off until Leo disappears into the night. What an interesting guy. Strange nonetheless, but he couldn’t think of anyone else he would go on some crazy adventure with.

His ears twitch.

The night is unusually quieter than it usually is. Something always has to be amiss. He makes out a pained cry not far from him. It’s shrill and small. By the sound of it, it likely came from someone young. It appears he has other matters to attend to tonight.

Pieces of the wooden armor clank together to the beat of his rapid footsteps.

-

As much as Huseo loved having people around, he loved the silence more. Running a small business was tough enough, and he doesn't even want to think about the staggering amount of paperwork behind it. Meaning, he has to savor every bit of free time he has in between. There was nothing better than winding down after a stressful day, sparing a couple minutes to paint his mini sailboat kit. Or help Junior read one of the books he borrowed at school. It helps him brings peace of mind when finding method in the madness. 

So it was most definitely surprising for him to hear rustling throughout the silence. Outside his restaurant. At a too-freaking-early-to-be-awake hour. Unless you were nocturnal, then that was a different story. His hand searches for something to defend himself, anything other than pens and paper, but his eyes were glued to the window. He couldn't take them off the towering shadow of a figure creeping towards his window. Invading a place reserved for comfort. Someone tall with sharp claws and the nerve to come here. He doesn't realize he's subconsciously taking steps back, until he hears the sharp creak of his office desk being pushed back.

The mysterious figure fled instantly.

Perhaps some random kid trying to scare me, he thought. Working overtime sure loves playing tricks on him. It wasn’t usual that the neighborhood yokais' would pull some stunt outside his diner. And if it wasn’t them, then it would’ve been Leo. He turns back and stations himself in front of the unfinished sailboat model, dipping his paintbrush in blue. The paint job wasn’t going to finish itself.

A loud crash disrupts his concentration. So it wasn’t nothing. He doesn’t care how much of a threat the perpetrator is, whoever disturbed him was getting it now. Pushing his door open, he slowly creeps past the main room and towards the source of the noise, hunched forward with a spatula in hand and an eye of a hawk. The shuffling doesn’t stop. 

Huseo thinks it’s strange how the jukebox emits static. Leo ordered it for him not long ago, so it should be in good shape. He reads the front.

The storage facility? Interesting choice.

He feels a headache coming through. The skeleton yokai couldn't entirely dismiss the chance that it was him react disproportionately. If Pepino was having some grand five course meal there, then he was officially going to lose it. Time and time, he has turned a blind eye to his sobrino's hijinks at the restaurant. He should receive a medal on how long he has held out his patience. Out of anyone, he of all people understood Leo’s feelings of inadequacy the most, but that doesn’t give him the pass to strut up at an ungodly hour. 

Without wasting a beat, he swings the door open and flips the light switch on. He would say his jaw figuratively dropped, but he could literally feel it go slack. 

That’s not Pepino.

A pair of red eyes glower back at him. Huseo feels like a deer in headlights. He couldn't believe the sight before him. The most wanted man in the entire Hidden City, is currently rummaging in the tomato soup section. With sockets wide as the other, he pushes down his shock and gets ready to swing an attack. He's not an outlaw for nothing. Plus, he picked up a couple things then and there from Piel. It’s not until he hits the samurai by the calf that he hears a yelp, the bagged stash of canned soup comes sprawling out. Looks like he got somewhere. As a last ditch effort to escape, the samurai staggers to the back exit. Huseo doesn't have to do much before the samurai's cloak gets caught by in the metal shelves, dragging him down and ultimately trapping him. He hears a groan string out of the pile of canned food, wincing as a can bounces off his head. The hooded samurai keeps trying to break free, but his attempts are futile.

He watches as metal mask skids to his leather shoes. 

“... Conejo?”

Even with his limited Spanish, Usagi’s eyes widened. Huseo watches him touch his face, his mouth dropping at the lack of protection. 

“You’re that vigilante everyone has been talking non-stop about. I’ve heard about you from-”

“She’s hungry.”

Huseo stares at him, helping him slowly push away the heavy shelf. 

Usagi heaves out a breath. He's drenched in anticipation and seemed to be struggling to get a word out. “There’s a girl that snuck me into this shelter place to stay. But now it’s gone. I don’t have time to explain this, but she’s hungry, and she’s done so much for me. And she needs me. I'll never forgive myself if I don't. So please. Let me do this, Señor Hueso.”

His pleading eyes was more than enough to tell Huseo that he's truthful. Throughout the months supervising the rabbit yokai, he’s seen him work under stress and handle it customers flawlessly. For the most part, he leaned more on the shyer side, never really engaging in conversation unless spoken to. But the way he treated each and every customer with courtesy, even the Karens', would've made every 'employee of the month' envious of him willpower (though, he does wish that he would stand his ground more). Neverminded that he was clumsy and was all over the place at times, it was without a doubt that Usagi was the perfect candidate. So naturally, it would be hard to believe that this is the same yokai to cause an uproar in the local community.

Huseo turns his back on Usagi. Before the rabbit could even utter a word, Huseo hands him a bag filled with canned soup and water bottles. More than enough to last a couple weeks. He watches Usagi crinkle his eyes before rushing towards the exit, creaking it open and handing it out. A pair of smaller furred palms grab onto it. For a mouse yokai, she’s relatively short, nearing Mikey’s height and dressed in shabby tattered clothing.

She takes one look behind Usagi and straight at Huseo, and scurries away before he could offer her anything else.

Satisfied with completing the deed, he follows Huseo’s finger gesturing him forward and towards his office. Usagi curls in the chair. He warily watches as Huseo places two cups of hot drinks on the table, pushing the other mug towards him. The hot steam wafts to the rabbit yokai's direction. It’s hot chocolate. And as tempting it is to not immediately drink it all, it’s a bit weird how he has the drinks preplanned.

Huseo slowly makes his way to the other side of the desk takes his seat. The paintjob of his unfinished sailboat lies pushed aside and abandoned.

“You’re the one that helped my hijo from those nasty crooks,” he continues, a set of bony fingertips hug the steaming black bitterness. The missing puzzle pieces are coming together. 

Usagi scrunches his brows, deep in thought.

“I’m sorry, what you mean by is…?”

“Sometime a couple months ago, was when it happened. Junior had an afterschool club running later than usual, and I stayed back so him and I could go back home together. But he wasn’t answering my phone for some time, and that’s not like him. If he wanted to go joyriding with my awful influence of a brother, then Piel would’ve texted me. So I kept waiting and waiting until I hear this loud ruckus outside. Stupid kids messing around wasn’t strange, but never would I thought that I would find the vigilante everyone was so afraid of, patching my son’s scrapped knee. Dios mío, am I glad I did,” Huseo spoke fondly.

Usagi's eyes light, finally on the same page as Huseo. "I couldn’t just leave him to fend away those weirdos.”

“It makes me glad someone is looking out for him.”

Usagi looks away, “He's a brave kid.”

"Sure is," The skeleton yokai traces his bony fingertips around the mug rim. 

How could he not forget? He remembers feeling so frightened when that cloaked samurai loomed over his trembling son. And if he was going to be honest, he thought that was the last time he'll ever see him alive and well. Stepping out of the darkness, he recalls watching the samurai quickly step away from his son, vanishing into the shadows and lonely night. He was expecting to see his son’s eyes well with tears. Instead, those round sockets shone with excitement. Unable to contain his joy, he pointed at his knee and showed off the doodled band aid decorated with tiny purple and blue flowers. But then he stopped smiling. Instantly, Huseo recalls trying to brush away those hot tears from bubbling up. Was it something that cursed samurai did to his son? But no, it was far from that. Junior shook his head, mumbling how scared he was, but grateful that someone came to save him, even if it was the monster everyone feared. Later that week, his son kept urging Huseo to send his personally drawn picture of the fugitive and himself. He always said he would, but the conflicting thoughts prevented him from doing so. Still, the picture has yet left his desk drawer.

Huseo looks up from his mug.

“Those flowers were pretty well drawn,” Huseo says when his employee becomes a moment too quiet. "He wouldn't stop talking about it. Day and night, it was always 'Papá, did you notice this? Papá, check at this flower.' But if that made him happy, then so was I."

Usagi smiles shyly. He sips the piping chocolate sweetness. “I'm not all that great. And I’m not even great with kids. But I think there was something about your son that reminded me of her. My little. My," Usagi darts his eyes all over at one spot, concentrated in getting the words out. He swallows thickly. "My little sister."

Huseo tidies up his papers, patiently waiting for Usagi to continue on. “She always liked getting my attention. Probably a younger sister thing. But living at the countryside ruled out premade girly band aids, so I had to get crafty. And ever since, she would always come running to me whenever she got hurt - whether it be a small papercut, or a gash on her elbow."

"I'm sure she's lucky to have an older brother like you."

Usagi shakes his head. "More like the other way around."

The both of them fall into a peaceful silence, but Huseo has other plans.

"Listen, Usagi. As much as I love getting to know my most diligent employee, we need to trace back to the topic at hand."

"Pleasedon’tfireme.” 

Huseo just stares at him even more, because was this really what matters to him most right now? Seriously?

"Sigh. No, I won't at this moment."

“But does this mean you’ll turn me in?” Usagi says hesitantly, ears pinned back.

Huseo rubs his chin. He has been considering that option after the big revelation. The whispers around town always murmur the dangers of approaching him, and the wanted posters do offer a large sum. With that amount of money, he could upgrade his restaurant and pay whatever home loan or school expense or whatever, and he wouldn’t have to worry about a single thing. Worrying about paying Junior's college tuition was another can of worms he'll get into later. All he had to do was turn him to Big Mama. Which is particularly strange, because wouldn’t it usually be the Hidden City Police that handles those kinds of troubles?

But that would’ve been the case, had he known the samurai was secretly working under him.

While the price seemed enticing, he couldn't ignore this uncomfortable ache plunging into the pits of his nonexistent stomach. Because turning him in would also mean he's turning in the savior for the helpless. A teenager running around playing hero. A boy who has the same tortured look as Leo months prior. A son of a mother and father waiting for him to come back. God knows how many fights and injuries and near-death experiences Usagi endured. No child should be out risking their lives for the betterment of another, when they should be finishing homework and making dumb mistakes, decisions like those should be made for the adults to decide. Huseo thinks he’s going to be sick.

Was it weird that he rather knows the identity of the most notorious samurai be a teen? Maybe he'll doublecheck his moral compass at a later stage.

Usagi sets his mug down quickly, waiting for Huseo's answer.

"I would if you weren't just a kid. But like I said, not at this moment. I'm still trying to process what just happened. Let me warn you, things won't end pretty when I get caught harboring a wanted fugitive."

"And you don't think I'm dangerous?"

"Oh I most certainly do." Huseo puts it out bluntly. The unexpected reveal serves as a warning to keep himself alert. Who knows what might happen if he doesn't. One moment he could be completing his usual tasks, the next he could end up a goner. Which is contradictory in a sense, considering the whole skeleton situation, but the point still stands. He could practically feel Usagi telling him to continue, the steady thump of his foot keeping him hypervigilant to every word spoken. "Yokai love to talk, it's hard not to think of you anything but a monster when that's all they say," Usagi winces. Clearly, that's still a fresh wound yet addressed, but maybe he will soon. He'll save it for another night. "And it's not my place to tell you what to do. I don't like how you do things, but I understand where you're coming from."

Everything he had said was straight forward, but he hopes his mini touchdown would soften the prospect of outing him as a criminal. For the most part, Usagi closes his eyes for a brief moment, placing a hand over his chest.

If he were Usagi, he would also be thankful for getting what he could get.

"Now that I know who's behind the vigilante scheming, it makes me feel a little at ease knowing it was just you outside my window."

"That wasn't me," Huseo stops drinking his coffee midway through. His bitter beverage doesn't seem as appetizing anymore.

"It's one of the reasons why I snuck into the storage room," Usagi fiddles with the edge of his jacket. The cuffs appear to be worn out through the years, and it's a couple sizes too big for him, almost as if it was handed down to him. He looks at the window. 

"Someone was following me."

Chapter Text

“You. Ruined. Everything.”

Swallowing his scream, Leo shields himself as the metallic claw slams him into the ground. As expected, the hard concrete crumbles beneath him.

He groans from the impact, steadying himself to stand, only to be knocked back down.

Leo was no stranger to this type of violence; he’s seen this scene play out more times than he can count each night he succumbs to sleep. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less. He’s heard the same rehearsed speech, knowing when it begins and ends, and endured hearing the same threats over and over. It almost feels like he’s living in those time loops he saw it that one Jupiter Jim mini-series, and oh how he regrets thinking how cool he thought it'd be to experience that.

Heavy footsteps walk to him. Wincing from the burn oozing out of his angry wound, he attempts to crawl away, leaving a smeared trail of red behind. It doesn't take long before his effort were interrupted. The red-eared slider screams out in agony, struggling to escape the sharp metal crunching his kneecap.

Out of his swollen eye, his bruised head turns to look everywhere and anywhere but the blaring red beam. To gaze upon the same uninhabitable planets and broken asteroids floating amidst, and to smell that same stench of putrid death. The metallic taste leaves an everlasting bitterness. And even stuck in this infinite loop of pain, there's something he could get out of it. It gave him the chance to take in the surroundings. While he wasn’t a quantum science nerd, that throne was solely reserved for Donnie, he did have a couple suspicions that things aren't what they seem, starting with how time works differently in the Prison Dimension.

Broken building. Dust. Must get away.

He looks down, feeling his face pale. The sight of his knee was beyond grizzly, forcefully pushing down that acidic burn churning in his stomach, trying not to think how some pieces protrude in a way it shouldn’t. And as concerning as the injury may look, his wounds would momentarily bleed before stopping all together, yet wouldn't regenerate like it usually does, leaving him looking like a zombie. It would only hurt for a bit, before that feeling simmers down to a dull ache.

On that note, the wounds itself feel like they have yet healed despite leaving that godforsaken hell. 

As tempting may it be, Leo refrains from joking how he was dying to know what happens next. He doesn't want to deal with any unwanted consequences, not just from Raph. Leo huffs. Yeah, he would most likely scold him for joking at a time like this. What a worrywart. The Krang's grip on his plastron tightens. He tries not to resist again, to not give into the satisfaction of that monster because that's the last thing he wants to do. 

But sometimes too much is too much.

Okay, that’s enough. Gotta get out of here ASAP, Leo stresses. He rapidly bangs his fist against the cool metal, breath growing increasingly unsteady, as if his bloodthirsty enemy would oh so kindly let him free. The Krang general doesn’t relent. If anything, the grip reaches an unbearably clench and Leo genuinely can’t take it anywhere. He can hear the sickening crack on his shell, claws splitting it in half like a walnut. Searing hot tears beg to trickle past his hostile glare and bared teeth, the claws digging past his scales not stopping anytime soon. But he doesn't cave. Even when his entire being is being slammed into the ground, the pieces hovering above due to the lack of gravity. 

And the thing is, he has tried everything. He would be a fool to think he’d died without a fight. Once he found out he wasn’t getting out of it sooner or later, he decided it was time to test a couple things, as unconventional as it was. Like stabbing it in the leg, or going into hiding within ruins of buildings. Yet no matter what he does to change things, the outcome remains the same. The Krang general would always find him, utter those damning words, and finish him. Well, almost. He knows how his story ends, but it doesn’t stop him from trying anyways.

Before he could lift his right arm, a metallic arm grapples onto the healing wound. A piercing sensation spreads all over. 

“Is that all you’ve got?” He nervously barks back. 

The Krang lowers down and sneers at him. A huff of steam rolls out of its teeth. “You still think this is a joke?”

He's never said that before. Leo remembers every punch and kick and stab, and no matter how painful it was, he recalls every single detail. It’s hard not to. A flash of white blurs his vision, his fruitless attempts to writhe out of the general's confinements reduced to a feeble whimper. He’s squeezing him under his metallic fist. So tight. It's to the point where it feels like he’s breathing out of a tiny straw.

“You’re nothing without your brothers. You’re dragging them behind, don't deny it. A jinx. A nobody. That's what you are."

He spits at the metallic face. A rumbling snarl seeps out of the armor. “That’s not true.”

Now he's not so sure anymore. Moreover, it seems like it was just his way of convincing himself that it wasn’t. And it's so stupid, because he knows deep inside that the general's words are the manifestation of his internal thoughts, and he doesn't have to reconsider whether his family truly loves him. But it’s just so hard when your mind is your worst enemy. Even worse, those thoughts are amplified before him. He opens his mouth, mustering the courage to retort, but thick blood clogs his throat.

So, he focuses on breathing deeply and glares at him instead.

“Oh? But you know it is. I don't need to spell it out. You've known from the very beginning, haven't you?" That sickly sweet voice continues to mock him.

The Krang general doesn’t let Leo out of their sight. Instead, that heavy claw lifts him to the air. A sly smile slips from the general. Feeding off the smell of fear emitting from the trembling slider, too weak to even defend himself, and too tired to utter a plea. The monstrous beast summons a sword-like weapon from its fist. It secures the area targeted. 

The fist fixes itself in front of Leo's carapace. Right in the dead center. “Now my wrath is reserved for you, and only you,” the sharp blade charges forward. 

Now Leo's panicking for real. His options are pretty limited since he can't dodge nor block, having both his arms locked into place. Reasoning is out of the question. He might as well accept it. But he doesn't want to. He wants to try and escape any way he could because he doesn't want things to end like this. It makes him want to run and hide and fight so he could see his brothers alive in person and-

His eyes snap open. 

He half expects to shoot up from his pillow thrashing and screaming, still heaving and drenched in leftover sweat. Just like his earlier days. But rather, it’s quiet. He wakes up struggling to stifle a violent shake from his core, opting to focus maintaining a balanced breathing pattern, lest he wants his brothers to come save him from an invisible monster. One that can't be defeated from hard punches and a satisfying blow to the head. But he hopes they do anyways. Only when he knows he's truly alone, does he truly let his guard down. Tears silently trek down his face, burying his head into his pillow for support, muffling his pained wails. God, he hates this. He hates this so unbelievably much, but what other option does he have? It was either him or the world that succumbed to the Krang's wrath.

It was naive of him to even think his sacrifice was going to go smoothly. 

Rising his head from the soft fabric, he grimaces at the sight before him. Yuck. Looks like he’ll have to change his pillow cover again. His palm shifts over to his plastron. That dull ache remains.

Leo glances over at his bedside clock. It’s way too early to be up, but sleep doesn’t look as enticing. Not with what awaits for him on the other side. With nothing to do, he slowly slips away from his covers, not bothering to keep it tidy, and makes his way to the bathroom. Might as well get ready for the day. Without a care in the world, he lets the tap flood the sink, drowning away the previous nightmare with splashes of chilling cold water. He's glad it works for a couple seconds because wow that actually is really cold. That should be enough. 

Shivering from the dropping temperature, he reaches for his face towel when he winces at the strain on his right arm. He slips off his usual arm wraps, eyes studying the angry red blossoming beneath the neat white bandaging. Down to business it is. Slowly, he unravels the calculated wrapping, snout wrinkling at the light metallic scent. 

If he keeps moving so carelessly, then it won't just be him tending his wounds. The tissue is clearly mending itself, but at snail's pace. That's not right, he should've been healed by now. Ages ago, for the matter of a fact. He knows just enough nerdy sciencey mutant biology from Draxum to make a clear judgement that okay, what's going on. Maybe he overexerted himself? He doesn’t remember doing anything strenuous, but he’ll repatch it up anyways. Its due for some cleaning anyways. Bundling the old bandaging, his hand hangs above the trash can with the feeling of not wanting to let go.

Afraid that tossing it away, meant he'll lose whatever compassion's left of the samurai during that fateful night. That they'll go back to exchanging bitter commentary, looking at one another with a pinched frown. Because quite frankly, Leo doesn't want to let go of that lingering hope that maybe, just maybe, Ronin will be kind enough to help him.

He hurls the ball of dried blood. Get a grip. He missed his chance the moment you met him, Leo rationalizes. Such a shame that Ronin's dressing skills were decent.

Swinging open the mirror, he reaches for the medical kit. It's funny how everything is so cluttered, but it's even funnier how each row progressively becomes more disorganized - Donnie's section being the most orderly, then Raph, Leo, before Mikey. He proudly admires his handwork. That should do it. Satisfied with his wrapping technique, he swings the mirror cover back, only for his breath to come out ragged in doubt at the sight before him. He tries not to drop the plastic container, squeezing it tightly in his hands instead. The disturbing chill creeps up his spine, eyes widened with alarm and masked with blind terror. It was a mistake coming here in the first place.

He doesn't think he can physically turn around, the reflected slender structure of metal was evidence enough. The fizzle of huffed air prickles his neck.

“Thought you could escape me, turtle?” 

“Go to hell," Leo spat.

He must stuck in another dream. One that loves watching him straddled with pure terror. That's right, he has to be. Some twisted, make-believe reality. But if that's not the case, then it would be strange. Very strange. The Krang has never ever uttered a word to him outside the scope of dreams. In all honesty, he doesn’t know if he can take those comments during the day when nighttime has already enough. He never actively sought an answer back from Leo. But if he can hear him talk, then that means…

No. Stop it. He has to be dreaming. This can’t be real. 

“Oh, but it is. This isn’t imaginary, and soon will you.” Leo stares at his right forearm. The bleeding is spreading out even more. “You can’t keep hiding forever."

"What are you getting out of this. You can't even leave. I severed the pathway."

"But you only have one of your weapons."

It strikes him where it hurts, but it's true. His katana is slowly it's shine, feeling the electric blue ninpo slowly slip from his grasps and into that dark abyss. And so will he.

“Then you should make a move on finding those artefacts. Or if you ever do,” Leo grips onto the bathroom sink. The chilling coolness etches upon his palm. He knows his brothers knows about the nightmares, but not the full extent of it. For him, almost every night has been tainted with unwanted memories and an eternal torture of agony, leaving him uncontrollably shaking and paranoid. But for his brothers, it’s just another painfully average Tuesday. “So you better hurry, before I’ll take what’s left of you.” 

Leo slams the bathroom door shut.

-

“Remember, Michelangelo. Take a deep breath and focus. This will be your final attempt before we retire for the morning,” Baron states. He flips the hourglass, restarting the timer. It's barely holding up.
 
Mikey straightens his back, taking the moment to feel the chalked surface beneath. The surrounding candle lights flicker. Inhaling deeply, he rests his palms and furrows the edges of his mask, envisioning a multitude of things but centers back to the task at hand. Remembering why he willingly spent agonizing hours each morning honing his mystical abilities. He concentrates and pushes back on that overwhelming feeling, threatening to burn and tear him limb to limb. It's not until that fierce burn halts completely, that he knows it worked.

He opens his eyes, flexing his translucent orange fingers. Before him sat, well... him. Relaxed and composed, not moving an inch from his cross-legged position. Not that he could now, anyways.

"Aw yeah, baby! Finally, I did it!" Mikey rejoices. 

Stepping aside from his physical form, he wanders over and waved a hand in front of Draxum, but not far enough that he leaves the circle. As usual, he doesn’t respond.  His snickering was cut short as the room fades to nothing but pitch black, and he sights that familiar jade green before him. He knows the drill. Jogging towards her, he couldn’t help but throw his arms around her, sinking his snout deeper into the crook of his Gram Gram’s neck. She chuckles, pulling herself back and admiring Mikey. “My, Michelangelo. You’ve grown so much!” He snickers, bashfully accepting her compliment. “I assume you've been well?" He immediately nods, unable to stop the flood of words pouring out of his mouth, keeping her updated.

She smiles back at him, patiently waiting for him to finish. "How has your findings been? Have you found the missing pieces to the seance yet?”

Mikey rubs his fingers against the fabric of her sleeves. It’s soft for a spirit, "Only one of them. You and Drax said there are three in total, and it should be really easy. But it’s not,” he looks down. He hopes she isn’t too disappointed. Not bothering to resist, he sighs as she cups his hands. It’s surprisingly warm. “I’m scared that by the time we do find it, it’ll be too late.”

The ornate box turtle looks away, composing himself. He could have a sobfest after leaving the astral plane, but right now, he was a man on a mission and he had questions that need to be answered. 

“Have you tried mind meddling with Leo? Perhaps building a stronger spiritual connection could aid in your recovery of the final two items.”

“But that’s the thing! I’ve tried, but I can’t get through. None of us can. It’s like he’s put up this wall and we can’t get through. Can you?"

She shakes her head. "That is unfortunately beyond my expertise. Either through April or spiritually connecting with you, this is my only form of communication, I'm afraid. Ask him, perhaps he could give you an explanation."

The sand from the hourglass descend to the bottom. There's not much left before it's completely gone.

Karai pats his shoulders, leaving the embrace. The outline of her legs start to disappear first. Mikey's seen her disintegrate numerous times, but sometimes he wishes he hadn’t. “I would do anything to aid my family, but even I am limited to such control. Even knowing what lies ahead, it is to my dismay that I cannot reveal such," her lips form a thin line, enhancing that sorrowful look worn. He wants to ask why and stay longer than given, desiring to know more than just the mission and more about her. About her favorite food, and what her hopes and dreams and ambitions were, and if there was anything she wished she could've done differently. Because Mikey sure does. He rolls his ankle repeatedly, jerky movements leaving particles of orange speckles, waiting for her next response.

"You have a watcher. Someone spying your every movement, planning on intervening your plans."

Mikey rushes to think of another question. So it was true. "But how will I know who it is?"

“Eventually, you will. Do put your faith that all will turn out well. Hope is a ninja’s greatest weapon, after all.”

Now that Mikey is sitting along with everyone, only now he realizes how much of a challenge it is to explain things. Not because he doesn’t want to, but he legitimately has nothing. It’s not like he wants to give out false hope either. As much as he loves her, he just wishes Gram Gram could’ve given him something more than a couple cryptid words and a nothingburger, but he’ll take it. He breaks the news to his family.

“So. what do you have in store, Donnie?” He questions.

 “Oh ho ho, you’ve asked the right turtle. If we really want to capture him, then we’ll need to corner him,” he rummages inside his battle shell, not long after until he finds what he’s looking for. A small device lies in his palm. Not long after, he lays out a replica of three on the table. The matte black finish barely entails anything legible apart from the obvious trademark. “Behold,” he smiles, not bothering to hide his pride. Now holding it in his fingertips, it's evident to everyone that this was the tracking device he wouldn’t stop talking about. Mikey listens to Donnie infodump about the overall mechanics of it, while he tries not to struggle scrapping the fried bit of pancake on the pan in the meanwhile. This was the device he and Donnie were working on for a couple weeks from now. “We won’t follow his every move. Yet. But this is the only way that can judge whether or not he’s trying to foil our plans. There, happy?”

“Very much,” Raph quips. 

"Glad to hear. Now, Leo. My coffee?" Donnie snaps his fingers.

Emerging from the snack cabinet, Leo narrows his eyes before handing him a cup. He's been doing this a couple mornings now, ever since he 'accidentally took Donnie's favorite jacket for a swim'. All things considered, he would've gotten an even worser treatment had that been his only jacket.

Donnie spits out his drink. An unamused Leo blinks owlishly, covered head to shoulder with the liquid. "I thought I clearly stated I wanted a warm cup of coffee?"

"And there you have it."

"It's cold."

"A cup of coffee."

"And this doesn't even taste like coffee! This is a disgrace to the beverage itself."

"A cup."

Donnie crosses his arms. "Either you make me another batch of PROPER coffee, or else I'll add another week to your coffee duty," wickedly smiling as he watches Leo makes a sharp U-turn. "Yeah, that's right. And don't forget to add that oat milk," Donnie cackles, his twin flipping him the bird. He sure loves ordering Leo around.

He turns to Raph.

“And as the most caring brother I am. I know, thank you very much for your applaud. I’ve made the exact copy for each one of you, in case any of us does manage to get up close on our fellow samurai. You know what to do. All you have to do is peel away the sticky protection seal. It’s extremely light, he won’t feel a thing, however, keep in mind that it's only a onetime use. And don’t you dare loose it, or by the pizza supreme I won’t hesitate to clock you in the head.” Raph carefully handles the device plopped into his hands.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Thanks for the touchdown,” Leo chucks it into his fanny pack.

Mikey couldn’t put his finger on it. There was something different about him, but what? Clearly, he’s stressing over something, but nothing big has happened in a couple days. Weeks even. He looks his same old self, and yet, he's looking around with that glint of unease he recognizes, like e's looking around for something. Or someone. 

The light scrapes trail from the lounge and to the kitchen. A yawn follows along a “Ah, good morning, my boys.” Everyone looks towards the voice nearby the fridge. Leo continues to watch the coffee machine trickle out that hazelnut brown liquid. Raph hands his favorite mug to him. By the looks of it, the poor cup-ware is in dire need of replacement, the multiple rings of tea stains clearly embedding the white walls. Each time the suggestion for a new one comes up, he waves a hand and says “next time”. Apparently, “next time” has been a couple years from now. Raph pats his back.

“Morin’ pops, sleep well?”

Splinter smiles warmly. “Indeed I did, thank you Rapheal.”

“Watch out! This baby comin’ in hot!” 

In perfect timing, Mikey slides the pancakes onto everyone’s plate. It’s far from his usual perfect batch. But considering this was the few times he could whip something up without assistance or supervision, he thinks he did a pretty decent job. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Donnie attempt to eat the slightly overbaked sides, trying not to recoil at the new texture. He appreciates Donnie trying it out, it's kind of sweet in a way. For future reference, Mikey notes to take more time to mix the batter evenly. 

Finally handing Donnie a proper mug of coffee, Leo slumps on his seat and digs in. He immediately shoots Mikey a thumbs up. Either he's faking it or he really likes it. Whatever the answer was, Mikey smiles, heading to give Raph his portion. At least someone actually likes it.

“Micheal,” Donnie looks at him with raised brows. Clearly unimpressed by something. “Don’t just carelessly place the tracker on the table!”

Mikey looks to check, and there is indeed a round metal idly sitting amidst the plates and crumbs of pancakes. Oops. Must’ve slipped from his mind. His father quickly hands this respective tracker to Mikey, frowning at the way his arm wombles the slightest to raise. He has already worried enough. He quickly slips a couple stacks of pancakes onto his fathers plate in exchange. 

In defeat, Splinter returns to the kitchen isle and takes his seat next to Donnie, shuffling and shifting until he’s contempt in his spot. He’s been doing that a lot recently. Mikey looks back at the couch, permanently ingrained with a Splinter-shaped indent. The living room deprived of it's usual blaring sounds of overly exaggerated sound effects from Splinter's previous movies filmed. 

“Raph you should learn to use your-”

“What?”

Donnie sighs and mutters a “Nevermind,” leaving an absentminded Raph in dispose of shoving the goodness into his mouth. Donnie catches the tracker slipping out of his older brother's pocket. He tucks it back in.

“Tch. You guys just don’t appreciate such refined skills. My poor neglected babies, your papa is here,” Donnie’s claw retracts and issues out a tissue, levering it low enough to blow his snout. It makes him think how alike him and Leo are, both equally dramatic. But it also makes him think of how heavy it must be wearing it. Surely, that can’t be comfortable to wear first thing in the morning. And how Donnie doesn’t wear his battle shell indoors anymore, replaced with a lighter shell. But today is an exception apparently.

A huffed laugh interrupts Donnie’s badgering. Waving a hand, Splinter shakes his head, sporting a reminiscent look as he stares at the reflection of his coffee. “Nothing. This so happened to remind me of something at the dojo. It was minutes after practice and I happened to talk with an auntie of my students. A human, in fact. And we so happened to be discussing this exact topic. It was quite amusing to hear the replacement of her children as furry animals.”

Okay, he can kind see the connection here. But Mikey's still not entirely sure where he's getting at. Raph thinks thoughtfully.

“Yeah, just like how April practically adopted Mayhem.”

"Oh yeah! Reminds me of how Sunita recently got this cute parakeet," he pipes in.

“But doesn't it weird you out? That they're supposed to. I dunno. Have kids or something," Leo twirls around his bit of pancake in the maple syrup. He rests his palm on his face, wearing his usual nonchalant look, appearing his typical Leo self. But his eyes are unmoving, staring straight at Splinter. Something he hasn't done in a very long time. Mikey's going to take a hard guess, but it seems like Leo's talking about something else entirely. 

"Do you think I'm weird then, Nardo?"

Leo swings his head in utter shock. "Wha- No??"

"Then what makes her any different?"

"We've got this situation going on, Don," Leo waves a hand all over himself. "Cloaking broach or not, it's still not the same. This is a whole 'nother issue."

Raph stacks his empty plate in the dish rack. "What's the big deal, Leo?"

"This is the big deal! It's not fair that she gets love her puppies so freely and I can't. But I'm not saying that I want to get a dog. I just want... to want to," Leo pushes himself away from the table. "Sorry, I uh. Don't know what's gotten into me. Ignore what I said."

"And because what? Are you secretly jealous that some people have an impeccable taste and you don't?" Donnie cocks a brow.

"Or maybe, they're just different. And that's okay," Splinter interrupts.

His eyes widen marginally, soaking in the wave of realization unfolded before him. Mikey looks at everyone, observing their reactions, but more importantly focuses on Leo. The slider stops eating completely.

"I think it's fine to be out of the norm, and it's okay to do something other yokai, or humans, may think is weird. Please remember that I will never forsake you for being different, my sons. No matter the chosen hobby, or pet, or decision, or whoever," Splinter looks straight at Leo.

He silently thanks Raph for helping cleaning up the table.

It's a little out of the blue for his father to say something like that, but Mikey doesn't mind it. He appreciates how Splinter's changing for the better, one step at a time. The slider lets out a shaky laugh, but it’s all to distract anyone from seeing him go perfectly still. Too bad Mikey had his eyes on him from the very start. Leo opens his mouth, clearly wanting to say something, but stop himself. Okay… Weird. He’ll add that to his Dr Feelings list because that sure took a turn. Mikey wants to say that it has something to do with Splinter listening in on their conversation the night Leo 'took Donnie's jacket for a swim'.

Maybe he's wrong. Who knows.

By the time Leo left the table, Mikey has forgotten what he wanted to ask.

-

Searching at the junkyard is fun and all, but Leo’s got other things to do today. Plus, his bag is full. From a distance, Mikey appears to not want to carry the heavy bag, peering over at what Raph is up to. Despite matching each other’s strengths, Raph effortlessly tosses a bag stuffed with junk over his pierced carapace, humming a tune as he picks out the best looking scrap. What a perfect opportunity. He coughs into his fist before switching to his innocent persona, itching towards his brother. As predicted, Raph mindlessly takes his bag from him, adding the weigh onto his shoulder, continuing on. Definitely a younger sibling privilege.

Leo sighs loudly. His bag doesn’t even compete with the others, the few Jupiter Jim magazine catalogues and action fictions compiling most of the space, slightly scratched up but still in good use. “To be honest, when Pops said to go check for useful stuff to repair the couch, I didn't think he would mean dumpster diving.” Strutting to another pile of trash, he begrudgingly digs through another stack of trash. “How much longer do we have to stay here anyways?”

“Ah, but that’s the best part. You might never know what treasures lie ahead,” Donnie tsked. He dodges a piece of metal flying towards him at the last second, grumbling at Leo dragging his lower eyelid. They both pretend to resume junk searching when Raph arrives.

It’s true, Leo really had other important things today. Like rereading his comics and… ugh, doing leadership building exercises. Skateboarding is unfortunately out of the question, his whole hands situation isn’t really helping much.

“And don’t act like we haven’t done this before. We’re veterans at this,” Mikey shoots back. There were at least a couple doze half used spray cans begging to be taken back to the lair, and he was not missing out on that opportunity. 

Leo rolls his eyes, continuing in search for scraps, and some for Donnie as compensation for his jacket. If he was given the opportunity to rewind time, then he wouldn't have to think twice before seizing that opportunity. Bringing 

It doesn’t take long before that sharp tunes seizes the bustling atmosphere. Mikey looks around the surrounding area, unsure where the sound is even coming from, Donnie and Raph following suit. But Leo’s head shoots up. It’s almost as if he’s memorised it’s whereabouts. Mikey is the first to notice, copying him out of sheer curiosity. 

And lo and behold, it’s the wanted criminal everyone and their grandmother has been gossiping about for weeks on end. Except, that striking black cloak is now replaced with a blue hakama, sleeves ripped off clean with a black undersleeve as a substitute, forearms shielded with wooden planks. On each side marked two circles with three dots, symmetrically matching the vigilante’s chest. Still, there's that metal mask shielding his identity, the straw hat covering his head.

And his gloved hand doesn’t wield his usual katana. It’s an archer's bow. Leo doesn’t quite understand the jist around Ronin's 'wanted dead or alive' bounty. What’s so special about him that even Big Mama was in on it? 

So the second the samurai makes a daring flee, no exchange of words was needed. They abandon their bags of cherry-picked junk. Splinter would most likely experience withdrawal symptoms from soap opera deprivation, but Donnie has all the time in the world to fix that ancient box of a projector. Getting answers from the samurai isn’t. The chase begins. 

Leo blocks his path, unsheathing his katana. He strikes, leaving the other to block with the bow. He duly notes how the side of the bow engraves a ‘C’. “You think you’re so tough showing your face again,” Leo growls. He grunts from being pushed away. “Y’know you’re not exactly wanting here, right? Never mind. Makes my job easier anyways.”

“This is a public area, am I correct? I don’t see your name on it,” he looks around, pretending to search high and low. Leo feels his head grow increasingly hot. “I don’t see a ‘Leo’ labelled on any of this, for a matter of a fact. Oh wait, found it,” Ronin points his head towards miserable state of a nearby trash can.

Bending his knees, he prepares to charge onwards. 

Leo harshly nudges him, sending him crashing into a nearby trash pile. The samurai gives him a dirty glare. Leo’s look is no different. “You’re lagging behind. Looks like your leg is still bothering you, Ronin.”

“So is your arm.”

Raph shoots the slider with a confused look, and Leo acts like he didn't shift his weight more onto his left. The thought of landing a punch to his face grows increasingly enticing. He raises his brows, attempting to signal him to zip it, but his attempts fall on deaf ears. Not Raph’s though. 

“Did you forget your katana this time? Along with your walking cane,” Leo bites back. His head looks at Ronin’s limping stance. 

The samurai slings the bow behind his back. “Wanted a change of things. And I’ll pass. It seems like you need it more than I do,” he quarrels. It appears he's breaking out of his reserved persona. Muffled snickers could be heard from behind. Leo twists his head and squints his eyes, only to see his brothers resume their ‘serious hero look’. And here he thought he couldn’t feel more betrayed. 

Ronin lets out an over dramatic sigh. “When I came here, I was looking for scraps and a good fight. But all I see is a pity party.”

“You’re wrong,” Leo raises his katana. The grip on his handle grows mildly wet from the buildup of sweat.

“Prove it.”

“How so?”

Before Leo could even register, the samurai darts towards him, then back where he was standing. Lightly jogging away, he holds up a circular metal between his fingers with his eyes smiling. He has got to be kidding. Leo looks down and yep. His escape pod button was gone. “Though, it was nice chatting with you.”

Ronin does a double take to his side. Without thinking, he throws himself into a large open-ended pipe, the bumpy ride leading him down to the bottom of the junkyard. Popping out at the other end, he cups his mouth. “Catch me if you can, Kame.”

His knuckles whiten. Who does he think he was? Ronin was a fool for thinking he could get away with taunting him. He shares a look with Raph, pointing his head downwards. Instructing the next orders, he ignores Donnie’s raised eyebrows before his shell jetpacks him to the deeper parts of the junkyard. Mikey turns around.

“Raph, boost me!” 

The snapping alligator nods, locking his fists together and lifts his younger brother into the air. Zooming towards him at a treacherous velocity, Mikey reached out for his kusari-fundō, swinging towards the direction of the fleeing samurai. He was almost there, just a bit closer. But it would’ve been nice to catch him twice. The samurai swiftly turns himself, a hand on the bow while the other dragging the arrow. He lets go. Mikey's eyes widened, helplessly watching the arrow shoot towards him.

An alarmed cry struck the air.

Snapping him out of his thoughts, Leo turned to Raph, his older brother mirroring his devastated look. No. Ronin couldn’t have something like that. That’s not possible. Wasting no time, he immediately picks up his pace and hopes that the scene of the crime isn’t far. 

For what felt like an eternity, the brothers meet with the back of Donnie’s battle shell. He’s barely able to restrain himself, fingers itching to activate ‘kill mode’ on his staff, instead taking a couple dozen deep breaths to cool himself down. Leo looks to his left. There’s an arrow pierced through one of the chains, trapping Mikey’s weapon in the mountain pile of forgotten remains of plastic, metal, and all in-between. It doesn’t matter that his hands are on his bent knees and how he’s breathing heavily, he’s just glad that he’s wrong for once. But with that out of the way, it also means he has another problem to deal with. 

Mikey strains in the head lock. He’s trying to wriggle his way out, but abruptly stops when a pocketknife rides near his neck. He looks to his brothers for help. 

Blaring sirens rung from a distance.

Donnie caves and aims his staff at Ronin, a purple laser beam threatening to be released at the command. Ronin holds the knife closer, the shine from neighboring streetlights barely holding up emphasizes the razor sharpness. Mikey gulps audibly. “You shoot, and he won’t see tomorrow.”

Raph walks beside Donnie, putting aside his tonfā’s. “It's not use, Don. We have 'ta listen.”

“Are you seriously believing this guy-”

“Drop it. Now,” Leo orders. 

His twin begrudgingly does exactly that. Mikey looked at him with hopeful eyes, unsure why it’s taking his brother so long to make such an easy decision. As much as he wholeheartedly loved him, Leo had other plans. He couldn't resist not taking this golden opportunity to get back at him.

Leo taps his chin. "Well, knowing that you had the last laugh, I’m not so sure anymore.”

“What,” both Raph and Donnie say in unison, astounded by Leo’s lack of seriousness. The slider's shift in tone sent a curious look from Ronin.

“That’s such a funny joke,” his face pales watching Leo sheath his katana. “Oh mi gosh, you're serious. No no PLEASE WAIT! I take everything back, please don’t leave me here with him! I swear I won’t make fun of you ever again."

“Swear on your mother?”

“We literally don’t have one.”

A purple glove grabs him by the shoulder. "Come on. I know my astonishing level of violent tendencies is concerning, but that doesn't mean we're leaving our dearest Michael behind. You can't be seriously considering this for real."

“I need more time to think about it."

“No, you don’t! Why are you making this so complicated?” Donnie shakes his head, breathlessly laughing and sputtering in disbelief. He points at Leo. "Raph! Do something. Why do I get shitted on for wanting to stab that criminal, but Leo gets the go-ahead to say what he wants? And don't pull that leader thing on me."

Raph pinches between his eyes, his crevasse becoming more prominent. "He doesn't. Lee, cut it out."

"I'm about to lose it if you guys don't hurry!" Mikey cries out.

Raph takes a step forward trying to reason with Leo’s pettiness in a situation like this, when a ray of light shines down on his face. A strangled growl rumbles from his throat. He curls inwards, holding a palm to his eye. Knowing how sensitive his left eye has gotten, Leo could only imagine the indescribable pain Raph was enduring. Nonetheless, he still attempts to reassure a stressed Mikey coming to his aid.

Confused, Leo follows the source of his older brother’s discomfort, his eyes trailing towards the excessive heaps of compiled trash. Behind mountains of junk, concealed the identity of another, too far to see who it was, but enough to see them purposefully reflect a piece of glass. That's where it's coming from. Noticing the unwanted attention, the pair of frantic footsteps fade away. 

Distracting everyone, Ronin shoves Mikey to the floor and takes his leave. He doesn't bother to look back.

This was planned from the get-go, Leo registers. With such little time, it makes those small decisions appear big and life threatening. He’s torn between finding the source of his long-awaited answers and helping his brother. Aiding Raph would be the most preferable option, considering he’s the only one with the right medical training and expertise, meaning he could help his brother the fastest. All those years of arguing and side-eyes doesn't mean he's going to ditch him. But he’s come so far. Leo doesn’t want his efforts to go to waste.

“Hand over your fanny pack.”

He looks at his crouching brother in purple, then at his extended hand eagerly waiting for the same heavy pouch in his palm. Donnie looks away. “I’ll handle Raph and Michael. You go after him. Just,” he sighs deeply. There’s a reason why he rarely initiates heart to heart conversations. “Be safe. Raph won’t be happy to see you with an additional injury, and you and I both know that he'll make us talk about our self-worth and what happened months prior yada yada. I’ve already scheduled this month free from talking about my feelings after Dr Feelings’ intervention.” 

He unclips the strap of his bag and throws it to Donnie, sliding his respective tracker in his short pocket. Donnie catches it with ease. 

But was that the right choice? He knows he’s doing the right thing, pursuing him for answers was important. But he also couldn’t help but feel as if he’s abandoning him, even though that was the exact opposite. 

Just like how you did during the invasion, that wretched voice resurfaces. He looks to the side, just to see that disgusting pink alien morph into the background. His furrow deepens, hoping it would erase those mean, hurtful words by that same gravelly voice. It doesn’t the slightest. Leo redirects his focus instead, trying not to cave in.

Donnie doesn’t have to tell him twice.

He races down the hazardous path. It’s got weird curves and obstacles that would make anyone want to slow down and be wary, but the exhilarating thump inside his ribcage doesn't let him. It leaves him restless and alert. Sprinting downhill, he dismisses how his brothers' voices grow smaller as he makes his way out the junkyard, and more towards the Hidden City. He doesn't plan on stopping soon. Even when his legs are screaming for a break, and his lungs are wheezing from overexertion. The metal brace echoes a small squeak.

Despite his bad leg, he still manages to catch up with the samurai, announcing his entrance with a hard collision to the floor. Months bedridden and a permanent injury doesn't have a thing on Leo. The both of them groan.

Gotcha!

Finally, he’s gotten Ronin where he wants him. Leo yells triumphantly, knees straddling him by the waist. He grips onto the front of Ronin's clothing. The bow and sling of arrows have been tossed during the collision, along with Leo's katana. All he had left were his fists and unwavering determination. He sneakily tucks the small gadget behind the collar of his hakama, making sure the sticky part is secured on before the samurai looks up at him.

“Um, it appears that you really like this game of tag?” Leo looks down, only now realizing how close they are together. That's why Ronin sounded so unsure. He scrambles away, shuffling to his feet uncomfortably. Leo coughs into his fist.

"I can only imagine your embarrassment knowing you got beaten up by a turtle. Suppose history repeats itself."

Before Leo could approach the samurai, he covers his face, immediately greeted by the strong currents of wind blowing away the tails of his mask. A... helicopter? He can't necessarily see, but he assumes Ronin does the same. A sudden flash of light shines above. They both freeze. The blaring lights of red and blue fill his vision, and Leo has to suppress that groan when he sees those familiar officers in blue approach. From personal experience, he doesn’t think he’s getting home before midnight. 

Chapter Text

After a couple blinks, Leo can confirm that everything that has happened from this moment on was unfortunately real.

Which is a real bummer, because this is the only time he wished he was fast asleep. Never in his wildest dreams - or lack thereof - would Leo see himself locked up in a holding cell. For the second time. Stuck alone not with the rest of his family (excluding Mikey) but with the yokai he wants to be with least of all.

And if possible, he’d like this to be the final time he ends up in a situation like this. He’d even beg on his knees for Ronin to be swapped out with Draxum, and he also hates him so much that his list would end up as a novel. Which that itself may be over the top and slightly exaggerating, because aside from his quote unquote 'stepfather's attempt at world domination and throwing him off a building, there really wasn't much to hate on him for. And honestly, he's actually made the effort to understand each of his brothers' hobbies and thoughts over the years. (unlike a certain someone, but Leo isn't a snitch) Overall, he was kind of helpful in terms of letting him get away with certain things. Like getting snacks and extending the time he goes out for air. But that’s how desperate he was.

Using whatever energy was left of him, he rattled and yanked on those bars with the remains of his energy, dismissing how quickly his cheeks burned red from his efforts. Just being truthful, but he suddenly feels self-conscious now that he feels a pair of eyes burn into his shell. It's kind of embarrassing how he’s so worked up over such minimal work.

Those bars don't budge, but that’s expected. So, he knocks on a metal pole and it reverberates a deep soundwave back. The sound emulates a gong like semblance. Both knuckles whiten around the iron bars. They don't plan on letting go anytime soon. 

A guffaw could be heard from behind. 

Ignore him, he wants you to react. You're Neon Leon. If you can survive an invasion, then you can surely survive not talking to him. Your brothers' will rescue you in no time, so just sit back and relax, Leo soothes himself.

Not wanting to face his temporary inmate, he stares right ahead, eyes wandering to the alligator yokai slumped on her desk. Don't quote him on this, but Leo's pretty sure that guards' on watch duty aren't supposed to be sleeping on the job. He watches her head slowly fall back before snapping herself awake, only for her eyes to fall back shut. Anyone could've heard her snoring up a storm. Along with his weapons carefully stored behind, the sleek metal of a key reflects from the neighboring lantern. And despite the distance, he’s only a couple inches away from grasping freedom. Bummer.

The lantern light flickers dangerously, consuming the candle wick at a fervent pace.

But the more he looked around, the more concerning it was. Hidden City was becoming a prospering nation: humans were actually willing to make trade with yokai-kind, and the upgrade of technology boosted Donnie's drive to keep improving his own. But staying here makes him think otherwise.

He doesn’t remember the holding cell being this sad looking, it really could use some bling-a-ling to liven up the place. Don't even get him started on the paint job, the walls were crying for a new paint job. Though, he thinks that Mikey would do more of the crying once he busts him out. And aside from that, everything seemed so disorganised; a huge contrast to what it once looked like. What's going on? And at least he had some seat to sit on last time. All this cell had was nothing but a small outside window barred from the outside world, placed high in the middle. Leo grimaces. Where was the common decency? Clearly, this place has seen better days. Something rustles. Expecting to sit next to him, Leo wait a couple counts, even preparing a rehearsed monologue inside his head on what to say.

“Your techniques are predictable and the way you block is too stiff, but your body reacts faster than your mind,” Ronin states. 

Oh. So this is how it is, huh? All along, he was planning on running his mouth about how much Leo sucks, wasn't he. Well, if he thought he was going to get away with it, then he was terribly mistaken. The coldness of the floor doesn’t help toning down his anger from bubbling. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” Leo growls.

“Enlighten me. I don’t see you busying yourself, and neither am I.”

"Seems like you already know. So, what's the point in me telling you?"

Was it so hard to just let the guy be? He really doesn’t need another problem shoved onto his plate. Perhaps this was some sort of payback from the times he’s played dirty in a fight with Ronin, but he wasn’t in the mood. He's had just about enough for today. Finally, he lets go and so does the coolness etched onto his palms. Leo faces him. For a highly surveillanced jail, he expected something more than a lack of lights, but he supposes that there's a reason why the majority associates' 'jail' with discomfort. Which is not good in his case, bringing out an instant feeling of unease.

The pearly white moonlight was the only clear source of comfort. 

Rather, the slider's hand lays by his heel, head peering over his knees. Leo still refuses to look at the other. His finger brushes against the bottom of the iron bars, circling around the small sigil carved at the bottom, feeling that familiar spidery accents engraved.

“Perhaps it would help you what one may call it 'let out some steam'. I think you should give it a shot," Ronin suggests.

"That's rich coming from someone like you," Leo retaliates. Ronin's eyes darken. Good. Don't hide it. Be angry at him. Take it out on him. Do anything but act perfect. "You come waltzing here like you're the shit. You go saving yokai. Fighting villains. Playing God. Who do you even think you are? Don't think I didn't notice what you're up to." He leaves his cross-legged position and stands. Ronin doesn't hesitate to do the same. The samurai seizes the air in his fist. "I know you're waiting for everyone to praise the 'almighty hero' for your so-called heroic deeds, before you stab us all in the back," Leo quarrels.

The both of them begin to walk in a circle. Patient enough to wait for the other to make the first leap. "I don't know what happened to you in the past, but your words are not my intent. You ought to be careful with what comes out your mouth, because that’s a foolish remark, Kame. You fought not as the highly skilled ninja, but as an impulsive wreck. You’re letting anger control you.”

The words roll out of that metal mask and that’s all it took for Leo to snap.

Without a second thought, Leo lunges towards the samurai. Ronin cowers at the strike. It whizzes past his straw hat and forces him to block the uncoordinated but firm punches. Leo is slightly taller than him, carries more muscle mass, and takes much longer to throw him off course. But he’s not as fast as Ronin. Leo doesn’t even get to make the next punch when he feels a fist collide with his stomach and comes face to face with an empty body of air, making a dashing crash towards the bricked wall. 

And here he was on his way to making a slow, but surely guaranteed recovery. Rubbing the back of his shell, he leans against the wall, glaring daggers at Ronin. An empty void of tense air sits between them. The samurai looks the least bit phased. 

"You're in no place to say that. I am not at fault for your inability to see your personal issue, and I won't tolerate being your personal punching bag," the samurai lashes out. He still holds a hushed tone, like he's scared he'll upset Leo even more by yelling. That punch hurt, but his words hurt even more. Leo doesn't feel the slightest better after that word vomit. Ronin shakes his head. "You ninjas are all the same. Quick to assume, but never to consider another perspective."

The wanted samurai regains his composure. He bumps his back against the flaky painted wall and slides down. Leo stares on. Well, it’s more like staring back at a space of black, now that Leo thinks about it more. Without a clear source of lighting and a straw hat blocking his central features, it’s hard to identify what species of yokai he was. While Leo sat with a knee close to his chest, Ronin kneeled and sat on the flat of his feet. 

A moment of silence rolls by. Then a minute more.

"I'm sorry," he quickly blurts it out. He doesn't quite understand why it's so hard for him to admit wrong. It's easy for everyone, but why not him? This feeling of uncertainty taints him with shame, threatening the clarity of his judgement. He doesn't know how to explain it, but it makes him feel like that's what he'll be known as by everyone, when that's not the case.

It's easier to think about how Ronin deserves no sense of forgiveness. But it's different when he's talking directly to him. Leo almost forgets that Ronin feels feelings that he experiences. That anyone and everyone experiences, for a matter of a fact.

Still, Ronin patiently waits for him to continue. "I'm not gonna say sorry for thinking differently," he stops and takes a moment to form the words. Wow, this is harder than he thought. "But I am for, y'know. Just into conclusions."

"That's a start."

"C'mon now, give me some credit here. Feelings aren't my style. That's for Mike."

The small part of him is curious why Ronin doesn't indulge in his personal life. Curious why he doesn't enquire who Mike is, or what happened months prior that left everyone in shambles. Anyone would be., humans or yokai. But maybe it's for the better.

Leo lifts his head from his elbows and gives him a funny look. “Well? Go on,” he rolls his eyes. Ronin tilts his head. “What are you waiting for?” He really wants to get this over with. He looks at the barred window. The edges have accumulated a mass of cobwebs. “I bet you’re dying to get it out. I can take your criticisms. All of it.”

“You’re not in the right state to hear them.”

Yeah, he really isn't. His eyes visibly relax, smoothing out the wrinkles building up on his forehead. Yeah, he's definitely getting a permanent crevasse if he continues frowning that hard. The edges of his mask perk with interest and he sits a bit straighter. While he expects an apology from Ronin, for the remarks he's said about him, Leo makes a shocking revelation in the middle of it. He've been a dick. There's no other way to put it out there. But who wouldn't be? His superhero handbook clearly states how heroes are strictly supposed to be good, while the villains are the polar opposite. 

But Ronin lies in neither category. He just does his own thing, unafraid to challenge those that obstruct his goal. 

All this deep thinking has Leo massaging the temple of his head. But there's one thing that he's grateful for. He's just glad Ronin isn't like Raph.

"Hm. Guess not."

-

Out of sheer boredom, Leo looks over at the occupied samurai.

As of currently, he's busying himself with the same pocketknife used to hold his younger brother captive. He's tossing it in the air and twirling it on the tips of his fingertips, and it takes everything in Leo to not scream how cool that is. How he made it out of the metal detectors unsearched, he'll have to ask Ronin himself.

"Where’d you learn how to do that," Leo asks. He kind of feels bad for interrupting, but he just has to know.

Snatching it while it pirouettes in the air, Ronin holds an uncertain gaze. "The circus, since I'm just so funny."

"Dude. I'm trying to be nice. I'm a changed man."

"It hasn't even been an hour before you challenged me to another duel. And I won."

Leo drags a hand over his face. He sighs heavily. Maybe if he had zipped it earlier, then he wouldn't have to deal with the samurai's attitude. Resting his chin upon his arms, he continues to watch Ronin play around with the blade, manipulating the flow of the razor sharpness between his fingers. Biting down a gasp whenever he sees him succeed in landing a hard trick.

It really is hypnotizing.

-

“Why don’t you use them?”

Leo rubs his eyes, lifting his head. He groans from the stiffness building from his neck. Great, what perfect timing. Couldn’t he say that earlier when he wasn’t moments away from snoring up a storm.

“Hm?” Blinking away his grogginess, he looks up. Ronin hasn’t moved an inch. Still in that kneeling position. “What did’ya say?”

“You don’t use them,” Ronin repeats.

“Okay?” Leo questions. He didn’t exactly hear the first half.

Ronin scratches the inside of his forearm. Beneath the wooden arm plates laid a black long sleeve. “Whenever we engage in battle, we fight with swords and honor. It’s only when your brothers join, that they fight with mahou. Magic. I've never seen anything like it before. So mystical and strange."

Leo shrinks into his shoulders. He picks away the dirt accumulated beneath his nails, attempting to mask his true feelings with disinterest. Ronin raises a brow.

“Why would you want to know? So you could jump me?”

“You jump into conclusions fast for someone with a leg injury,” Ronin jests. He places his shielded arm on his knee, eyes crinkling. It’s almost as if he could read his mind, because right before Leo could even open his mouth, he hears a nonchalant, “and I didn’t mention your inability to use it." Those red eyes pierce Leo's soul, the shadows of his straw hat heightening his intense look. Looking a little too similar to what he sees every night. He watches the slider's hands become increasingly clammy, rubbing his arms as if he felt a cold shiver. Kind of unusual, because it's far from winter. "I’m simply curious,” Ronin admits.

Leo clamps his mouth shut. Damn he’s good. With nothing to say back, he chews on the inside of his lip. If he doesn’t offer him the slightest answer, then who knows how long he’ll keep pestering him. And what makes matters worse, Ronin would probably mention that detail in front of his brothers. Damn it. They still think he’s got mystic sickness.

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“I can try.”

The slider narrows his eyes at him, before ultimately sighing. 

“It’s because I’m different. But I wasn’t always like this. Heh. You should’ve seen me. I could make these blue glowy portals appear with my ōdachi whenever and wherever," his fingers make these circle motions. Amidst making them, he spots Ronin shaking his head, hand covering his mouth to bite a laugh from escaping. Not that he'll admit it, but Leo's a bit taken back. That's a first. "I wasn’t always the best, b-but! It took me a while to get the hang of it. A long while, but that’s not the point. Not to brag, but I’d say my ninpō was the best out of everyone else’s. I mean, could you get goldfish crackers with Raph’s super smash? Without making a huge mess, that is.”

Leo chuckles at the distant memory. How could he forget Raph's futile attempts at grabbing that packet of cheddar goodness, all before ultimately summoning his Power Smash Jutsu? The snapping alligator was on left patching up the large hole in the living room for weeks.

“I can only imagine,” Ronin answers back.

Leo huffs a laugh. “Yeah, it was.”

He ignores the consecutive water dripping from the leaked pipe above, half lidded eyes focused on the puddle buildup beside him. It’s not a very big one, medium at best, enough to see a somewhat clear reflection of himself. But he can’t stop staring at that tightly wrapped brace latched onto his knee. How the metal shines in a way he despises. Looking over to his katana hung neatly behind the sleeping prison guard, he slightly scrunches his eyes to block out the Krang's whispers to just use the damn thing. 

His brows furrow and his laughs diminishes almost immediately.

“It started getting worse after I-uh, got into a nasty fight months ago. Dunno how long, but it was long. Trust me. Got a bad blow to the knee, and barely scrapped out alive. It's a miracle I even have one of my katanas."

Stopping for a bit, he wonders if he should continue. In hindsight, this is a stranger that he's having a deep conversation with. A literal stranger. But this particular stranger did what he wanted most. To just sit and listen and offer nothing else. No deep analysis on his deep-rooted trauma, nor statical graphs measuring the success of recovery.

He can feel his heart pick up a pace. The rhythm echoing in his chest were no longer soft and slow.

"It was bad. REALLY bad. I try not to think about it much about that day, but it just. It sucks, man. Someone took that from me, and now I can’t get it all back. Sure, I can still use it like I usually do, but. I don’t know. It’s not the same, and that scares me. Because bad things happen when I try to do something good.”

Hunching forward, he draws his leg back. He huddles them closer to his plastron and hooks his hands around his arms, mindlessly rubs circles. Making himself impossibly small within the wide space of room between. He didn’t really mean to trauma dump, especially on a night like this. But to be fair, it was kind of Ronin’s fault for opening up pandora's box in the first place.

A pair of eyes study his every move and suddenly Leo a sense of discomfort under his looming gaze. He bites his tongue. 

“Being different is not a curse.”

Leo scoffs. Get a load of this guy. What does he even know? His gloveless hands slither over to the straps of his knee brace, ripping them off clean. “Please. No offence, but what would you know? I mean, just look at me.” 

He shoots his left leg out, palms waving around his knee. The brace falls down, leaving a small clink from the metal. Met with the cool air, Leo releases a shaky breath before taking a momentary glimpse. He doesn’t know why today is so different from other days, but he decides to take the leap. Usually, it’s Donnie that changes it for him, and as taxing it is, Leo's secretly glad that he had someone take the weight off his shoulders for a bit. Helping him not relive the guilt.

The ugly slashes of fleshy light pink bubbles from his smooth scaled kneecap, make it seem fresh and out of place. Maybe for Leo, it always will be.

“With my condition, it’s hard to not get pity looks. Which was fine for the first few weeks after recovery. It was nice having the attention. But when everyone started healing up from the invasion, I couldn’t stand being the only one that needed to be handled with extra care,” he tries to talk firmly, but the words croak out of his throat. It leaves a somber taste lingering on his tongue. Ronin softens his gaze.

“And I know we’re not human. But for once in my life, I just wanted to be normal,” Leo murmurs.

There was a reason why he ditched the crutches whenever he went out. It was tacky and was a curiosity hotspot. And don’t even get him started when Donnie suggested he use a wheelchair. He practically begged to not use it outside, his reason being that he was on bedrest for 2 months; he even pulled the 'I won't utter a lame joke or pickup line for the next consecutive fortnight' card. And only after weeks of continually pleading, his twin agreed only under the condition that he used it at the lair. 

But it wasn’t necessarily a lie. For the most part, his knee was healing. He could walk, but not without a slight limp and twinge of pain. As long as he had something or someone to hold onto (which was mostly Donnie), then he looked fine as ever. Now that he thinks about it, Leo feels as if he might’ve accidentally mentioned more than he should have.

He doesn’t hear a response back.

He scrunches his snout. Why couldn’t Donnie let him use the compression strap with velcro ones instead of whatever this is?

The masked samurai clearly takes note of his body language, because he stands and walks over to him. Making himself comfortable only a couple feet apart. Leo notes his hand twitching beside him. Eventually, he raises it and hesitantly takes his forearm piece off his right arm. The wooden arm plate accompanies the hard, cold floor. Ronin then rolls back his thin black long sleeve, revealing a grey furred arm. 

Leo waves his arms before him. “Woah woah, slow down. We haven’t even made it to second base,” he jokes.

Clearly not listening, Ronin keeps rolling it up until it reaches his shoulder and Leo realizes why. He looks the other in the eye, spotting a sense of recognition.

Starting from the shoulder blade and ending near the wrist, a web-like scar stretches all over. Bumpy and impossibly thick. The darker red shade evidentially rots away his rosy pink skin, leaving a desolate patch of where fur once was. It makes Leo think about what events happened that lead up to that point. Imagining how long it lasted and how Ronin cried until his throat became raw with empty pleas for helping, knowing no one would. He subconsciously rubs his own arm.

Ronin takes a deep breath.

“On lonely humid evenings, it tends to flare up. Almost as if I could feel it happen all over again. Those selfish flames eating away my flesh. Sparing no sympathy for my desperate cries. No one could hear them, or chose not to,” Ronin recalls. 

His thumb traces the rough ends of the scar. Leo looks at it intensely, body stiff but eyes wanting to reach out. Ronin continues. “It’s a reminder of my incompetence on that fateful day. How I could’ve saved someone’s future, and how this a consequence of letting selfishness consuming my sight. It blinded me for so long. But I’m in no position to bargain,” Ronin admits. “I can beat myself over and over. But what good will that do? She wouldn’t want me to do that. All I can do is accept this,” he points at the injury from top to bottom. “And live with it. Because it’s a part of me, and there’s nothing I can do to change it.”

“But what if I don’t want it?” Leo fights back those stubborn tears building behind. 

“Who does? It’s not something you can show off unless you’ve got some heroic backstory behind it,” Ronin scoffs. 

“Tell me about it,” Leo mumbles.

“But injured leg or burned arm, it means that we did it,” he holds his gaze. With his tongue drying his mouth, Leo slowly moves his hand towards the burned arm, giving the other enough time to back out in case he was uncomfortable. The samurai didn’t. Rather, he lifted it towards the slider. Leo softly brushes against it, fingers dancing upon the unsightly area. The scar feels how it looks. Jagged with asymmetrical indents and it feels so wrong to be marked on such soft skin. “We survived something we shouldn’t have.”

Leo feels his mouth hang slightly. To his surprise, that actually made him feel a whole lot better. And here’s the catch: his rival, someone he’s despised for weeks on end, made him feel more seen than anyone in his family. He feels that it should’ve been the other way around because, well, family is family. The most important people in his world should know his deepest secrets and give him hugs that’ll leave him wanting more after a nightmare gone rogue. But they don’t. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches the other look away. At that moment, Leo realizes that this is probably the closest Ronin has ever gotten to a heart to heart in a very long time. Considering they're talking during ‘feels hour’, according to Mikey. Which in a way is kind of true.

“I apologize for pressuring you to discuss this issue. While we don’t see eye to eye, this doesn’t excuse my actions. My curiosity seemed to cause more harm than good.”

There he goes back to being polite. “So quick to say sorry? Well, that doesn’t mean I trust you, y’know,” Leo grumbles. The distasteful feeling sinking inside seemed to be lifted. Just a little. But even a little feels oddly nice.

“So how do you uh, deal with it then? Cause that looks painful,” Leo questions as an attempt to move on from the topic. He isn’t asking because he wants to know him more. The reason why he’s interested is because… because it’s to find Ronin’s weak spot. That’s right! That has to be it. Because it would be weird if he wanted to get to know the yokai that wanted to intervene in his plans.

Ronin looks at him playfully before scanning his exposed arm. Out of his pocket, he pulls out a small container presumably labeled as a numbing cream. It reminds him of the gift he gave Usagi the other night. “Ah. A friend happened to… let me borrow this.” Though, the last part kind of sounds forced. Leo internally shrugs. Probably just the awkward type.

Ronin lathers the cream onto the burned area. He slides the circular container back.

He can hear the steady thump from Ronin’s feet, not sparing a second to stop for a break. And even when his ears can’t hear the softest sounds, he can hear the soft grinding of Ronin's teeth beyond that metal mask. His mannerism reminds him of a rabbit. 

He makes himself comfortable on the floor. Ronin swallows, busy admiring how the moonlight kisses Leo's cheeks and green scales.

“Feeling tired?”

“After dumping the Leo lore onto you? Just fine,” Leo stifles yawns. Seems like he’s a bit tired then he initially let on.

Ronin backs himself away into the corner of the room. Almost becoming one with the pitch darkness, making it seem like it’s only Leo in the cell. The shadowed corner looks extremely cramped and small, and Leo doesn’t quite get why he would sit there of all places. But he's also tired, so he decides that’s a thought for future him. He tries to sit up, but the tired ache in his muscles beg for rest. Wait, no. He can’t fall asleep yet. He’s sitting right across his arch nemesis, and he has the key to finding what he wants; he needs to stay alert. 

And despite it all, he gives off a peculiar presence. He doesn’t know what it is, even if he was held at gunpoint and his life depended on it. But it makes him feel like he's being engulfed by soft clouds.

The sound of soft fabric rolls down an arm, along with the scrapping of something wooden.

“I can hear your mind racing from here. If I were to kill you, I would’ve done it ages ago,” Ronin reminds him. Which is weird why it’s oddly comforting. “Rest. You’ll have to deal with another ordeal in hours from now.”

“You mean we? Since we’re technically in prison now.”

“Ha. You make me laugh.”

“What’s so funny ‘bout that??”

Ronin shifts. "But there is one thing I must request.”

What’s a question that could possibly be so important? Leo ponders. Especially coming from Ronin himself. Leo turns to face the cornered samurai; with the shadows overcasting his face, it’s hard to tell if he’s serious or not. To play it safe, he answers an unsure, “sure, I guess." Leo feels fatigue lull him into the world of sleep.

He can't wrap around how Ronin could possibly sleep comfortably in that position.

“Promise me that you’ll stop actively searching for me,” Ronin warns. His defensive and thick tone sends the slider still. Unmoving, but to carefully listen to what he has to say. The samurai sighs. “I play no part in obstructing your search. And I don’t even know what you’re looking for. But I can guarantee that finding out who I truly am, what lies behind,” he whispers. His fingertips touch the side of the matte metal shielding his mouth. A cool hiss of air escapes the air vents, leaving an echoed sound. “You’ll regret it.”

Perhaps it was from the exhaustion of sleeping horribly days on end, or from the adrenaline dying down after the chase. Or both. But as much as Leo wants to reply, he feels himself forcibly shut down whether he likes it or not, his hand curls into a fist but that’s all he could do. His words die into incoherent mumbles. The lids of his eyes clamp shut, and he can feel himself slipping into the dark void of unconsciousness.

“Oyasumi, Leonardo-san.”

Hm? Did he hear something?

He opens his eyes one final time, only to be met by the other's chest slowly rising and falling. Even criminals need a good night's rest, huh.

...

The sleep deprivation really is getting to him.

-

When Leo wakes up, it wasn’t from thrashing himself awake at another near-death experience with the Krang, but from something of the sounds of metal scraping. The barred door slides open. He feels the tension leaving his body.

Firm words could be deciphered beyond the jailed doors.

Rubbing his eyes, he feels his lips curl into a smile. He doesn't need to know the context to know what's going on.

Mikey’s conversing the some old rehearsed line back when everyone stuck in jail, and it’s funny how no one has caught up to his fake disguises yet. This time, it's not only his lawyer look that he's rocking. The slider tries not to burst out laughing at Mikey's appalled expression at the paint job, mouth moving at the speed of light, leaving no room for the alligator to speak. The prison guard nervously smiles, her scaly neck gradually sinking into her uniform. Right next to an enraged Mikey, his purple coded sidekick continues to back him up, aggressively pointing at his makeshift dashboard littered with facts and stats.

If he's angling his head, he can identify a mass of spiky green sitting by the waiting room. Only when the guard is nothing but shaken up and mind fogged with incomprehensible knowledge, do they secretly high-five each other. Who knew numbers could be so threatening?

But it’s not seeing his brothers in ridiculous outfits that surprise him. It’s the fact that he didn’t dream of anything. Or maybe he did, but he forgot.

She drags her feet towards his cell with a key in hand.

“Someone bailed you out. Tch. There better not be next time, turtle.”

Leo waved off the sullen prison guard, eagerly stepping out of the holding cell and towards his brothers. He gives himself a long stretch before hugging them all. Now that feels so good. Especially when it's one strong enough where he can do the swing thing-

"Hey uh guys. Love 'ya but I kinda reek and don't wanna infect you guys with the stink thankssomuch."

With everyone collectively groaning, they reluctantly let go. Raph snickers at how Donnie's face morphs into one of disgust. It's evident, even with a disguise masking most of his facial features. Leo wouldn't tell anyone how he knows, but he'll just say that the brows do most of the talking.

He keeps walking but suddenly makes a stop. Had he forgotten something? He feels like he has. Leo whips his head around. But aside from a grumbling prison guard and the somber looks from other prison inmates, there was no one in sight. No one. No Ronin either.

His brothers' also stop in their tracks. Raph quirks a brow. "Ya' good, Leon? Lookin' for someone?"

Leo takes one good look at the heavy lock hanging loose from the barred confinement, remembering how it looked before he was fully awake. It didn't look broken by force, but rather pick-locked. Most likely by the hands of someone calculated and quick. Attaching his gear by his waist and a katana in his hand, he saunters past his older brother, dragging the others towards the exit. He shoots a reassured grin, pleased to see Raph sigh lightly.

"Nah. It was just me. Poor lonely me stuck in that wretched cell."

"Makes me wish I didn't rescue you," Donnie shoots back right after. "Your overdramatic persona should be a crime itself."

"EXCUSE ME?? Says you."

He pushes the doors away from the police station and out into the open with his brothers. Relishing in the hearty laughs, it makes him forget what happened hours prior. And he's not going to lie, it feels awesome.

Leo frowns at the family of grey clouds marching towards him. He reaches out a hand. A droplet falls onto Leo’s shoulder. Then another on his head. And a couple more on his palm. Out of nowhere, he thinks that maybe his brothers should’ve checked the weather report before they came to fetch him.

And Leo suddenly remembers how far the Hidden City Police Department is from home, even riding with public transport.

Chapter Text

There’s something truly magical about being a foreigner.

Whenever Usagi thinks he’s seen all of the Hidden City, there’ll always be something else that’ll surprise him. No matter how big, how weird, and how unconventional it is. For example, he discovered that train transport was a thing, and taking days to travel long distances wasn't normal.

This time, it was the landline at the front desk. Recently inputted by Huseo's request. It looks like your typical old fashion phone with a sleek black finish, long handle, and a cup to place your ear. Except there’s no number pad. Asking Huseo, the skeleton shook his head and gave him a mini breakdown that yes, there weren’t any numbers to input for a reason. All a part of the rise of technology, he says. To put it simply, all Usagi had to do was think about the yokai, or mutant, in mind that he wanted to talk. He assumed his boss was messing around, because the idea itself sounded so bizarre because how does that even work. Turns out he was serious. Dead serious (the Leo effect seemed to take a toll on his humor). And as much as he wanted to avoid using it in case he messes up, Huseo did mention that a certain infamous troublemaker called moments prior; one who happened to be a blue-masked ninja.

Now Usagi's curiosity perked. What happened to him that he couldn't meet in person? Now that he thinks about it, he hasn't seen Leo since their unexpected bonding moment in the holding cell. Which technically, would be a couple days from now. And he knows damn well how much the slider loved making a dashing appearance.

Nonetheless, he follows Huseo's advice and holds the phone to his ear. Who knew that visualizing someone was so hard? Unfortunately, he finds himself getting constantly distracted before Leo even picks up. Not on purpose! But he can't help but ponder at the way Leo’s red stripes frames his face just right, and how the light seemingly falls perfectly on his lime green scales.

The other side of the line picks up. That funny feeling swimming in his stomach fades away.

“Leonardo-san, good afternoon. Mind explaining why you needed to call. I thought you loved making a scene?”

“Nope, wrong Hamato.”

Usagi pauses. He recites of all their names and who sounded like who, before responding a hesitant, “Mikey?” He hopes he's right. To his contempt, he hears an ecstatic cheer.

“Bingo! Man, Leo was right when he said you were good at rememberin' things.”

“Is there a reason that you’re calling me?” Usagi doesn’t quite understand why he feels his smile drop. Not wanting to seem impolite, he continues. "Not that I don't mind talking to you. But I do find it unusual that you're calling at a time like this." He looks around for the time, before squinting at a customer's watch. Yeah, calling a little after one in the afternoon was questionable. 

Something sounding alike a grumble responds. So he stays still and listens in. If he focuses hard enough and tunes out the loud kitchen noises, he can make out what's being said from other side. Turns out, that sound was far from a grumble, but rather hear muffled sneezes from Mikey. A strained sniffle follows along, but not long before multiple yanks of tissue paper could be heard, his ear picking up the sound of a wet ball being thrown into a metal can. That doesn't sound too good.

Usagi frowns.

“Uh 'ctually, yeah,” Mikey admits. He rubs this runny snout, blowing it to clear his nasally voice. It doesn't do much, and Usagi couldn't help but feel bad for him. Before he knows it, he hears a multitude of voices in the background, but Leo’s voice appears the most distinctive. He sounds upset, while someone with a deep voice tries to persuade him. Usagi wonders why.

“We went out doin' our thing, but then I'm like this b'cause a certain someone got into some deep legal trouble 'nd we had to bail him out," Mikey's narrows his tone. His voice grows quieter on the phone and projecting it to the other side of the room, refuting Leo's claims. The animated mini debate is left to Usagi's imagination. Mikey returns back to the phone. "And yeah, we caught somethin' nasty. Donnie says it’s the flu and Lee said it’s a sign of an incurable disease 'cause Google said so. I d'nno if he’s messin' around, but he managed to get Raph freakin'. So I'm also k'nda freakin' out.”

Usagi chuckles a bit. Yeah, that seems like something Leo would do.

Mikey returns back to the phone. “But movin' on. Basically, we’re all sick 'nd there’s no one willing to cook us. Or can. Usually I'd whip out somethin' simple, but I’m forbidden from the kitchen by my brothers till I’m better. Raph is uh... I'll put a N/A on him. Drax is still workin' off that after school c'mmunity service, so no point askin' him. April and Junior are out of commission. Dad can but uh," he leans closer to the phone. He cups the speaker. It makes Usagi want to lean in too. "No offence to him, but with his cooking skills? He might as well be poisoning us."

Usagi can’t tell whether it’s because he’s repulsed by the idea of it, or because he’s sick.

"And I'm assuming you want my help?"

“Yeah... I know this might be a lot to ask, but would you mind sendin' some of Huseo’s homemade soup? Just anythin' soup-y is fine. Oh, and don’t forget the garlic bread. Raph loves those. Not to exaggerate, but you’re quite literally our only hope.”

If there’s one way to get out of the Hidden City, then he’ll need to make an effort to better know Leo. Gain his trust. Gain his loyalty. And being nice to him requires Usagi to know his family more as well. He stays on the phone for a couple minutes more, pretending to write down the coordinates to the sewer, before hanging up on a good note. Usagi starts thinking. How does he explain to his friend’s brother that his employer is currently discussing trade with the food supplier? It's not like he couldn't make it, but it'd mean he would have to wait a while before he gets certain ingredients and spices delivered, and it's safe to presume that no one would be happy receiving food hours late. Especially when they're sick. That would be a terrible impression to make.

You can do this. I mean, can't be that hard? Ugh. Who am I kidding, Auntie always made it look easy, Usagi mulls over. He was a decent cook, but some part of him wished that he could've spared some time watching his Auntie cook instead of practicing his katana skills. Maybe then cooking wouldn't feel so laboring. Guiding his hands over the cutting board, he begins dicing the green onions. Honestly, he’s never really cooked something so big. He'd usually serve himself and leave some scraps for Spot, and if he’s lucky enough, then he’ll come out unscathed with a meal for 2. Anymore and he’ll serve several dishes burnt to a crisp. He was a server, not an elite head chef. 

His fingers curl beneath the tofu, each piece sliced with care, as the silken texture lifted from the cutting board and onto the steaming pot. To his best ability, he tries to remember how his aunt cooked it whenever he or Hana were feeling unwell. To remember the passion and love poured into making it. Even when her voice circles back to those painful memories.

Usagi's hums to himself. It's almost 2pm. Yeah, he can take an early leave. Hopefully his co-worker Shay won't mind. It’ll take some time to cook, and even longer to get there.

But he wouldn’t mind if it’s Leo.

-

Looking back at it, Usagi realizes that he may have overdone the whole ‘cook to impress’ mentality and brought more way more than he should have. Just a little. As of currently, he's standing before the looming front door with not a thought behind those scarlet eyes of his. Just anticipation and an uncontrollable rhythmic tap from his foot.

What does he say? Does he look presentable? Is there something between his teeth?

It's ridiculous, really. He sees the Hamatos' every so often, they've at least seen him and his nametag and that disheveled ball of fluff on his head. Not just that, but his life is already jeopardized even walking in such foul-smelling place (Usagi hopes this'll be a onetime thing, the mere possibility of stepping into a puddle made his skin crawl). And he's still worried if they'll like him. He doesn't even know why he's thinking so hard, the 4 of them combined are probably in a worser state than he is.

It was already hard enough to juggle bags and boxes of food.

Grateful that he took the shorter route, Usagi rubs his feet on the doormat. The door in question was just a huge hole padded with metal. He would try pressing the buttons on the number pad, but he really wants to make a good impression, lest he presses something he shouldn't have. And he can’t exactly knock either, considering the whole food situation. So, he clears his throat. 

“HELLO? LEONARDO-SAN?”

Not a sound replied back. Just quite drip drip drip from a nearby pipe. That is, before he called the second time. Without missing a beat, a pair of footsteps rush towards and the door hisses open. Puzzled, he looks at the yokai in front of him. Or mutant. He hasn’t seen any of Leo’s brother for a long time, but it’s hard not to guess who is who with their respective mask color. 

Or level of height, Usagi concludes, looking down at the maskless turtle. Out of all the brothers’, Mikey was undeniably the shortest, most adaptable and creative out of the bunch. Relatively short, but his strength makes up for it. He studies Usagi from head to toe and deep. Noting from his crinkled week-old uniform scattered with permanent oil stains, to his confused look. Usagi's singular gloved hand tightens. Mikey nods to himself, deep in thought.

A pair of hands yank him in, Usagi leaving a small gasp. The door slams shut. 

Expecting a sudden burst of lights, the rabbit was surprised to see that wasn't the case. All the ceiling lights have been switched off, spare the kitchen, leaving only the nearby lamp and hung fairy lights dimmed to a warm glow. If the sole intent was to calm down nerves, then the Hamatos' did a pretty damn good job at putting Usagi at ease. Sure does feel homely.

“Hey Usagi, you came just'n time! Sorry 'bout draggin' you in like that. Had to make sure you were the real deal,” Mikey rubs his neck. He shoots an apologetic smile. "Thought you'd never come, actually. Happy you did. The place 'issa mess, but do make ya'self at home."

"I appreciate your hospitality, Michelangelo," Usagi comments. He internally applauds himself. Afterhours tutoring with Leo had made him seem more confident - they were tackling common grammar and hard words last time. Not that he knew what they meant most of the time, and he assumes that's the same goes for Leo, but he's glad some progress was made. "I must say, the lights are quite nice."

Despite his sickness sullying his mood, Mikey manages to smile a bit brighter. "Thanks! 'M proud to say that it was my idea. It was sp'cifcally for Don 'cause whenever he's not feelin' well, lights too bright hurts his eyes 'nd I didn't want 'im to wear his googles all the time." Mikey stops. He turns to look at Usagi. "Wait, is that alright? Me 'nd the fam are used to seein' lights this low, so I don't really know 'bout you."

Usagi shakes his head. "No, this is fine. I actually prefer this."

And he isn't wrong.

Perhaps it was his animalistic trait coming out, but he always worked better in the dark. When he was younger, he was convinced he was blessed with some crazy night vision superpower. So one could imagine his horror when his aunt told him that wasn't true.

Mindlessly nodding his head, he looks all over the place. The level of chaos wasn't what Usagi was thinking of more. This was not a part of the plan. He was supposed to get going after delivering the goods after making some small talk. But looking at Mikey’s awe at the bags made him pause. He excitedly leads him to the kitchen island. Oh what gives, he’ll stay a bit longer. Mikey offers a hand at carrying his barrel bag but Usagi hesitates, handing him the freshly cooked food instead. Mikey gladly takes them off him. Unable to contain his excitement, the shorter turtle welcomes himself into the mass of bags on the table, taking a long inhale inside. 

“Oh my! These smells so good. 'nd I cook literally every chance I can get. YO EVERYONE, the food's here,” he cups his mouth. 

Trudging through the hallways, a pair of blanketed cocoons sluggishly make their way to the kitchen. One of them stills, squinting his eyes at Usagi before rushing towards him. The striped pajamas break free from the thick blue blanket, leaving the softshell to pick up the fallen fabric but not without rolling his eyes. The slider points an accusatory finger at the rabbit. Usagi waves back at him. 

“No freakin’ way. Mike, you didn't tell us the delivery boy was comin' over!?" Leo rasps. His voice seems to have dropped a couple octaves from dry coughs, unable to emphasize without a higher pitch.

"Yeah I did? Told you while I was on-call with Usagi."

"Like hell you did. All you said was that he was delivering. Up and go. In then out." 

Mikey continues to take the packaged soup out of the bag. Even with a blocked nose, Usagi could sort of grasp a general idea on what he's saying. "Yeah. And he's stayin' for a bit 'cause I said so."

"Why would invite him over," Leo mulls over. He talks as if Usagi isn't standing a couple footsteps away. "Bro I'm hideous. Just look at me. My scales look brittle, my raging fever isn't going away anytime soon, and my scratchy voice is scaring the hoes away."

"As if you had any in the first place," Usagi banters.

He hands a soul-sucked Leo his soup, while he hands another to a hysterical Mikey.

"Gentlemen, enough chatter and more digging in. My stomach requires it's daily dose of high protein and nutrients," Donnie reminds. Unlike his brothers, Donnie takes the time to grab his fair share of utensils to eat, having the dedication to not look like an animal devouring the food. He elects a small spoon with a rubbery handle. Color being muted purple, why wouldn't it be?

He takes out his respective boxed container of soup, mildly humming at the sight of his name labeled on one of them. Taken with sudden interest, utters a quiet, "interesting," before he pushes the bowl of soup over to his seat, but not without shooting a suspicious look at Usagi. While everyone else is already half-way finished, it takes him longer to actually drink it. Hesitantly, he sips a bit from his spoon, eyes widening before he quickly digs in. "Holy truffle mac 'n cheese. This tastes," he quickly excuses his ecstatic joy with his usual monotone voice. Leo playfully shakes his head at the switch up. "Fairly decent. Bravo. You've earned my momentary appreciation." 

"Totally agreed 'cause oh mi gosh!! This tastes as amazing as it looks! We've had this before, but nothing beats whatever you cooked up," Mikey chimes in.

Mission 'get Donnie's approval of him', semi checked.

Usagi perks up. "Ah, thank you. Huseo was occupied, so the task at hand was up to me. He didn't exactly give me the recipe list, and most of the ingredients were only enough to serve for the current customers, so I cooked what I knew. You can't exactly go wrong with Miso soup. It's both tasty and nutritious, just something that'll definitely anyone feel better, sick or not. Or at least the people I know from experience. I hope it's alright though. I labeled each one differently, based on your preferences. Lessened flavors for Donatello; added more spice for Michaelangelo; poured more soup for Rapheal; and chopped more tofu for Leonardo-san. Takoyaki pancakes are my go-to, but eating fried food isn’t the best way to recover."

Mikey continues to unbox the contents inside the bag. While there wasn't any garlic bread, there was also another type of food that had Donnie doing a double take. With a triangular exterior, the middle is wrapped with a piece of seaweed, idly sitting in a row. Some are littered with sesame seeds, others plain. He makes a grabby hand gesture for it.

Usagi continues where he last left off.

"So along with the bread, I brought along some last minute salted rice balls. I know Leonardo-san likes them, so I added extra octopus bits inside. Which sounds a bit weird, but it actually tastes better than I expected! I uh. I’m not sure whether you’re accustomed to different cultural dishes, but I hope you find some sort of comfort in them. But apologies if you were expecting something else," Usagi bashfully explains.

He doesn't know if he said the right words, but Leo's stricken look doesn't help.

He maintains his gaze as he says a soft, "you remembered I liked them?”

“Course I did, it’s hard not to,” Usagi huffs. Unsure what to do with his hands, fumbling and interlocking them instead.

“Didn’t you say you were terrible at cooking,” Leo cocks his brow.

If Usagi ignores the fact that this was his 3rd attempt cooking the stew then yes, he was a born prodigy at cooking. "Are you still assuming I'm out to get you?"

"Whatevs..."

Donnie eyes the sheepish rabbit. "Hm. I suppose this'll do." While occupying himself with another bowl of soup, he doesn't even notice Usagi being tugged at the elbow of his sleeve. Far too invested in satisfying his hunger to realize the table's devoided of 2 people. 

Leo drags the rabbit yokai to the living room. Here, it's less loud and quieter. It really does emit a nostalgic vibe, with all the family portraits hung crookedly and some framed in the middle of a chaotic moment. It makes Usagi wish he hadn't left his Auntie. Left everyone. His surname and love for his katana. There are these feelings that come out whenever he looks at it for too long.

Safe and nostalgic. But ultimately; different.  

Donnie secretly flips down his googles, zooming into the barrel bag clutched in Usagi's hand. No one notices.

Usagi's eyes observe the slider. With his hooded eyes and a wet cloth over his forehead, it's simple to deduce that he's the one mostly affected. By Mikey's account, they've been unfortunately caught up in a bad storm, but it's getting sick over that? A sore throat and chills would've been the worst Usagi would get. It makes him think of what could've caused Leo's weakened immunity. Was it the lack of sleep? Or lack of appetite? But before he could continue theorizing, Leo's boyish smile distracts him. Usagi swallows.

Did it always radiate this brightly?

"You could've just declined Mikey's offer."

Usagi pretends to look wounded. “What happened to hi? Hello? Thank you for the food? Is that any way to treat your visitor?”

"I just didn't want your eyes to witness the horrors. Everything's a mess"

"It's barely untidy. I've seen worse."

Leo folds his arms. "That doesn't really make me feel better, but I'll just shut up and take the compliment. I have to say, your way of giving compliments is kind of weird."

“Are you feeling alright?” Usagi changes the topic. 

“Take a wild guess, dude. It’s not hard, but I think you can do this.” Leo quicks follows back. He waves a hand. “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just feeling kinda ass. Hate being sick, y'know?”

Usagi hums. That's fair. He remembers the last time he fell sick wasn't long ago, it was actually the first time he arrived here. With the sudden season change at the Hidden City, the temperature drop had Usagi bed-ridden with a weeklong flu. And whenever he did get sick, he would end up as an uncompliant slob of sweat, the sickness clearly increasing his levels of moodiness. A shame that he had to sleep on a awfully small twin sized mattress, but he can't exactly demand certain needs at the shelter he was staying at.

He looks Leo in the eyes. Both are equally dilated, swimming in the honey yellow. There's this specific emotion he can't place his finger on. It makes him feel queasy and light-headed combined with a fleeting thump in his chest. It's exhilarating and exhausting. And it only happens when he's looking at Leo.

“Love that you’re here, but you’re not even supposed to be here. What if you get sick?"

Shaking his head, he grabs hold of Leo's hand and gently squeezes it. The jittery feeling in his stomach shimmers down a bit. "I would say I'm here to see if you're still alive after my so called 'horrible' cooking skills-"

"Wait so you do admit-"

"But I just... wanted to see you. Okay, that is."

"Oh..." The slider barks out a nervous laugh. He tries to make himself look presentable by clumsily flattening the wrinkles on his clothes, but it's hard when every move results a tired ache. "It's a bit too late for that though. Should've came a bit later."

The rabbit yokai cracks a small smile. "Maybe," he says. This goof ball will be the end of him. Looking away from Leo, he watches as Mikey and Donnie talk in a hushed voice, both deep in thought as Donnie points at something. The details itself are far too small, but Usagi notes that there are 3 objects on the screen with a cross on the first one. It looks like the candles he stole the other night at the chemist. But wait. If both brothers are sitting there, then shouldn't there be one more? 

Usagi turns to Leo. "Not to interrupt, but where's Raphael? I'd hate for him to miss out on the food I prepared." 

"Oh, him? My guy is avoiding everyone like the plague. I thought I was bad, but he absolutely despises getting sick. So he's try'na wait it out, but it's kinda stupid if you ask me. Like, who could resist this?"

The heavy footsteps echo from the halls. It grows gradually louder towards the both of them. Usagi pulls his hand away from Leo.

Leo whistles. "Speak of the devil. Hey big man, how's it going?"

Raph glares at Leo and trudges into the kitchen, grabbing his fair share of food. Without his usual red mask, it's easier to see the smile lines and wrinkles on his face. Usagi just assumed his crevasse was a part of the mask. Taking a whiff of the savory scent of Miso, Raph doesn't even take a sip before he stops to look over inside the bag. He quirks a brow. "We don't usually eat Japanese."

"Yeah, 'cause Usagi made it this time! You really should give it a try, tastes super good," Leo cooly replies.

"Literally rang 'im up and he arrived a little after 2 hours," Mikey nods on que. Overjoyed and satisfied with a full stomach, he doesn't notice the wary look Raph gives him.

Usagi gulps, trying not to shy away from Raph's prolonged glare. That's not good. Clearly, he's not even trying to hide away his distrust for the rabbit, watching him push his portion towards a Mikey's ravenous look, completely rejecting the homemade food. He feels himself pale, watching him tramp towards his slightly trembling figure. Maybe it was a silly of him to even hope that he would earn the trust of Leo's brothers in a day. A bit 'unrealisitic', and Usagi hopes he used it in the right context. Leo just taught him that word the last time he tutored him. And honestly, he thought the soup was the winning ticket.

Standing before Raph, Usagi couldn't help but feel like stick and bones. Like come on, the guy looks like a literal unit. A beast. An absolute tank wielding the power of a thousand suns. Even after years of intensive training, Usagi wholeheartedly believes that one punch from him without his armor, and he can say goodbye to every living molecule in his body.

Raph utters a low growl. Stepping between the both of them, Leo presses a hand on Raph's plastron.

"Woah. Back up a little, personal space dude," he chuckles at a higher pitch. But with his sore throat, his laugh falls into thick syllables and an awkward voice crack. Both Mikey and Donnie snicker at him. Raph doesn't. Groaning, Leo pushes both hands on his older brother's plastron and evens uses his feet, attempting to push him away from Usagi. It doesn't work. The duo laugh even harder, watching as Leo breaks into a sweat, using all his might while Raph seems for the most part, unaffected. "Raph, what are you doin'? Couldn't you be, I dunno, a bit nicer to him. I don't wanna scare him away, 'cause the only people that do visit are literally April, Casey, and Junior," Leo reasons.

It would be funny if Usagi didn't feel threatened.

"Your eyes."

"Um... Yes?"

"Raph thinks he's seen them before."

Quite an interesting sentence of choice to say, especially for first impressions. Puzzled at the situation at hand, Leo's curiosity turns to Usagi. No matter how well he tries to hide it, he's undeniably sweating from being placed under pressure. The both of his arms are clamped to his sides, that and his incredible stillness paints the picture of making himself smaller and unnoticeable. 

Leo steps in before things could get even messier. Still, Usagi appreciates his efforts.

"Yeah uh. Actually, meet the guy I've been tutoring?" Leo makes this awkward jazz hand motion.

Mikey looks at the both of them with a gaping mouth, looking back and forth almost as if he's connecting the dots. It's a huge contrast to Donnie's reaction. But to Leo's dismay, Raph doesn't uncross his arms and his tail stops wagging. And that's not good.

"Raph doesn't trust you," Raph states. As if it wasn't painfully obvious. "You're ain't even our family friend. And all of a sudden, Leo's all buddy buddy with you and Mike invites you over and Raph just doesn't get it." His suspicious look doesn't waver. "Raph wants to challenge him to a spar. Just a strength test. You, me, right now," he declares.

The slider stammers, desperately trying to salvage whatever he could. "What if he has to go somewhere. Like, right uh... Right now!"

"Then he can kiss that invitation here goodbye."

"And there goes my scheduled day. But I'll only allow it since this is a one in a million chance and there's no way I'm missing out on this," Donnie shoos his brother to the dojo room. He seems far too eager to see his brother's other side. "Up you get Michael, my interest has peaked."

"C'mon man, don't do this to me. Just because he's a rabbit and he's new, doesn't mean you have to solve it with a fight," Leo pinches the bridge of his snout. He really hopes that Raph suddenly grew a funny bone. But everyone knows how stubborn he is. If he wants to do something, then he gets the job done. Simple as that.

Usagi pats his shoulder, squeezing it tightly. He gives Leo a reassuring look to not worry because it's okay, he's got this. When in actuality, alarm sirens' are going off in his head and he's trying not to freak out on the outside too. 

-

"Okay but dude. Are you sure you can handle this?"

Stopping his stretches mid-way, he shoots Leo an unimpressed look. "If you keep questioning me, I'll start to think you have little faith in me."

Before Leo can even deny, the shrill whistle breaks the air and announces the beginning of the round. Usagi brushes off the slider's worries with a small smile. Jogging to the center of the room, he tries not to stare of the intimidating gaze of the snapping alligators, and opts to observe the room. Like any other dojo, the room is half filled with a wall of mirror, reflecting the many practice dummies obliterated during hardcore training. Though, it is surprising how the tatami isn't as damaged as it looks. Just a couple wears and holes from the years used.

In some ways, it reminds him of the dojo Karsu-Tengu trained him in.

Usagi's eyes trail back to the matter at hand.

Donnie clears his throat, holding up a small handbook. "As many of you have already deduced, this is an unofficial spar. While my brother dearest here already knows the rules, I thought it'd be unfair to leave Usagi in the dark," he reads out the rules in his usual monotone voice. Raph cracks his knuckles, shoulders, before rolling his neck. Usagi swallows his throat. It's dry. Deprived of moisture, but that's the only thing that could bring him the slightest bit of comfort. "Rules are simple. Each combat must prolong for ten minutes maximum. If an opponent clearly accepts their defeat, then the other wins. However, if no one surrenders, the it's a draw. Remember, no hitting behind the head unless you want irreversible life-long injuries, and a kick to the balls is a no-go."

"Pft. He said balls," Mikey whispers to his striped clothed brother.

Sneaking a dirty side eye, Donnie keeps reading. "And especially no using your ninpō. The whole premise of this is to test your general abilities: speed, adaptability etc. Yes, this is a hand-in-hand combat, but weapons are allowed. Wooden only, unfortunately. And yeah. Pretty much it. Personally, I'm beating my money on Raph. No offence, Usagi. AHEM. The battle shall now commence." 

And with that, he shuts his book and hurries to the sidelines. Out of his battleshell, his metal claw extends out a bag of popcorn. Both Mikey and Leo reach for a piece.

There he goes jumping straight in to the action. Without a moment to spare, Raph charges head first and begins to swing blindly. In the meantime, all Usagi could do was dodge those heavy fists and survive to see tomorrow while he thinks of a plan. He wasn't given exactly a lot of time to prepare beforehand. Perhaps he was slacking in the agility department, which means he'll have to train extra hard, but dodging and blocking those punches was harder than he originally thought. You would think that someone with the flu would have a less coordinated aim. Apparently not for Raph.

Raph quickly grabs hold of Usagi's arm and yanks his tiny figure towards him. Swiftly, he turns his shell against Usagi's chest and throws him over. Leo utters a small hiss at the harsh impact. Not even given the opportunity to recover, Usagi's ears pick up a sound and alert his spinning vision of something amiss. Something like a gush of air. He flips his body to another direction, missing Raph's fist against the floor. The shape of a squeezed fist briefly imprints the surface. 

Block. Punch. Dodge. That was the routinely pattern that went on for the next few minutes. Not that Usagi specifically knows. He's far too busy trying to escape the clutches of the eldest turtle. But his attempts at defending himself eventually loose it's usual composure, and his punches become sloppier. Luck was never really on his side. 

The next thing he knows, a solid punch to the nose leads to another and he's knocked down to the floor. Hard enough that he starts to see stars. Not wanting to end the fight in such a pitiful way, he backs himself away from the painfully slow footsteps walking towards him. 

Think, Usagi. What can you do?

Right before he succumbs to his defeat, he sees something from the corner of his eye. It's a bamboo sword, most likely used for kendo, carelessly tossed and abandoned from a previous combat. But it works in Usagi's favor. There couldn't have been a more perfect timing. Forcing himself to roll over, he desperately grasps on it, just in time to barricade himself from Raph lunging towards. He hasn't seen such distrustful eyes in a long time. Not without a strained grunt, he pushes Raph off him and quickly reverts back to his signature stance, holding the sword to his chest and charges towards. Satisfied with the change of pace, he doesn't bother to hide his swift blocks and strides, too caught up in the moment to hear a couple gasps of shock. Having Raph occupied from the waist above, Usagi takes the opportunity to hurdle across the room and behind the snapping alligator. It doesn't take long after a couple thwacks, that the positions were reversed and Usagi has Raph where he wants him to be.

Usagi points the sword before a thick scaled neck. 

He's huffing and puffing like crazy, lungs screaming for a break. Soaked from the back, he thinks about how unattractive and uncool he probably looks from Leo's perspective. Kind of an odd topic to switch to, considering he's in the middle of a spar.

Before he knew it, the annoying beep of a timer tears through the battleground, marking the end of the time given.

Usagi couldn't actually believe it. It was finally over. He actually won. Ignoring the softshell frozen with confusion and awe, Usagi waits until Raph gets up. He levers out a hand to shake. It'd be poor sportsmanship to leave without doing so. Saving his comments, Raph clenches onto the hand. Whether it was because the other was upset or just naturally strong, the suffocating pressure on Usagi's hand felt as if his blood circulation was momentarily cut off. Raph leaves abruptly afterwards, followed along with a curious Mikey and Donnie.

Leo scurries from his seat. "Dude. That. Was. SO AWESOME!? Unlike Don, who's a naturally born hater. I, for one, was cheering you on. You gotta tell me where you learnt those sweet moves."

He takes the wooden sword out of Usagi's hands and gives him a bottle of water. Usagi chugs it down and sighs with contempt. Cold water always does the trick.

"It's nothing special, really. I was taught basic martial arts and iaido at a young age."

"Sorry to interrupt but WHAT. Usagi, there is no way those skills were nothing special. NO WAY. You're underselling yourself, and I think you should give yourself more credit."

Perhaps he fought more vigorously than usual, but Usagi's wiping away more sweat than usual. That familiar heat creeps back behind his neck. It makes Usagi want to curl into a ball whenever he hears Leo compliment his expertise. To his dismay, their small talk about Usagi's katana skills end quicker than he expected once they reach towards the entrance. Handing him his bag, Usagi thanks Leo once more. When given the time, Usagi's eyes widened at the answer as he asked Leo twice to make sure that he didn't stay for a total of 3 hours. It honestly felt less. And if he had any earlier suspicions that he mayhaps extended his visit, well now he knows. Definitely stayed longer than initially anticipated. 

A pair of footsteps bolt behind. 

"Usa!"

"Leonardo-san."

He chuckles, clamping his hand on the door frame. He leans a bit forward towards Usagi. "Thanks for comin' over. It means a lot to me and my family. Honestly dunno what we would've done if it weren't for you. Probably starved for the next couple days. Anywhizzle, don't forget our uh... 'tutoring session' next week. We've got a lot planned, remember?"

If you ask Usagi if he did, he'd reply with a confused come again? 

Not that he was purposefully forgetting, but a life of working as a waiter by day and a vigilante by night, does indeed affect his memory in ways he wished didn't. He genuinely cannot for the life of him think of what Leo's implying. Instead of giving him a clear answer, he slowly nods his head and shows off his customer service front: a strained but picture-perfect smile. 

As if he saw right through him, Leo rolls his eyes. "Can't believe you forgot about our hang out day," Leo looks back to see if any of his brothers were present. Thankfully, Mikey's far too occupied in reading the Miso soup recipe list to register any of their words. He cups a hand over his over. Usagi doesn't back away from him. In a hushed tone, Leo whispers, "I told you when I gave you the gifts? Ring any bells?"

"Oh! You mean the dat-"

Leo immediately shushes him, covering his mouth with both hands.

Usagi slowly removes them. He tilts his head. Did he say something wrong? He might not be the best at English, but surely if not mistaken, 'date' meant hanging out as friends. What's so wrong with wanting to express his enthusiasm venturing the Hidden City?

Saving him the trouble, the slider pushes him out. "Alright, off you go. But don't you dare forget, okay?"

"We go together a couple days form now? Go it."

"Finaly, you're putting your brain cells to good use. Later, cottontail."

"Try not to miss me too much, guapo," Usagi sneaks in a sly smile before he turns his back. "Get well soon. Wouldn't want me to travel alone, wouldn't you?"

Now that Usagi was long beyond the metal door, did Leo let out a muffled yell. He bumped his back against the door, miserably sliding down with palms covering his burning cheeks. His brows furrowed. Who did that rabbit even think he was, walking around looking that good while Leo looked like trash. So kind and considerate with everyone's tastebuds. And wow did he look amazing all focused during battle, uncaring whether he was drenched in sweat. Not to mention that nickname. 

Ugh. How is he so perfect? Literally how could anyone not... not fall...

Leo stops and thinks about his train of thought. No way. Usagi was just his friend, and that's all he'll ever be to him. And it's normal to think like that. To daydream about what Usagi was doing whenever he's bored, or what jokes he should say to get him cracking a laugh, and how much he wanted to just play with his fur while sitting next to him and talking for hours on end. 

"-eo, what do you think?"

Standing up from his crouch, he walks over to his brothers at the living room to better focus at the conversation. Discussing plans in the living room has slowly become the standard for talking about serious matters. Leo hopes it's nothing big. "Say what, now?"

"Why are you even asking him, Raph. He's clearly busy ogling at that rabbit," Donnie fake gags. 

The slider jabs an elbow at him. "Was not! He's just a friend," Leo whines. And that is the truth. And yet, he doesn’t understand why that plummeting drop in his chest returns whenever he utters those words. While everyone else was busy getting out their 5 cents, Mikey stares at the slow wag of Leo's tail. How it moved in a slow and defeated motion, only after saying that phrase.

"And Raph prefers if you weren't," Raph tries to reason with his younger brother. "Something's up. He's giving off a bad vibe, and it'd be better if you just stayed away from 'im."

"Give me a reason then."

"After collecting sufficient evidence, my calculations have deduced that Raphala is somewhat correct," Donnie pipes in.

And that's what ticks Leo off. Whenever he acts serious, his brothers always suggest he loosen up and live a little. But it's the times that he's genuinely enjoying something that they rain on his parade. It's so unfair. It's likely unintentional, but Leo still can't help but get mad at them. Because why do they always do this?

Donnie flips down his headwear. After typing some long code that only he would understand, a large lilac hologram emits out of his tech-gauntlet. There's a lot of long words added most likely for the purpose of making him look smart, but what he does understand are the pictures displayed. Circling a snapshot of Usagi's bag, multiple arrows point to a cloak he's seen before.

Leo doesn't like where this is heading towards.

Donnie directs everyone's attention towards the multitude of arrows. "Ever since Usagi has stepped foot into the sewers, I've been able to conclude quite a number of interesting discoveries. For one, his bag projects the elements of a cloaking broach. And while there's a huge range of cloaking broaches that have different abilities, you need a specific license in order to use it. Something about using it to not commit misdeeds BUT THAT'S BESIDES THE POINT. Because of that, I, Donatello, but also known under the alias 'Othello Von Ryan', 'BootyyyShaker9000', 'The most handsomest-"

"Just get to the point, Don."

"I think Usagi's working with the samurai guy," Donnie deadpans. 

If Leo had a drink in hand, then spitting it out would've been the perfect moment to phrase what the actual hell. Is he even hearing what's coming out of his mouth? He quickly searches for anyone else in the room that shares his exact thoughts, and Leo sure is glad he isn't alone when he sees Mikey's jaw drop.

The hologram moves onto another part of Donnie's hypothesis. "Stay with me on this one guys. So, right after Usagi alerted my 4th sense, I quickly did some research into his background and guess what. Found nothing. No record of any 'Usagi Yuichi' among both yokai and humans. And while I was doing my digging, sigh, yes, during the sparring. I continued to search when I coincidentally found this," he points at the footage before him. Everyone squeezes close to see whatever the purple pixels entail. It's dated hours prior. All it shows is Usagi carefully dodging the puddles of sewer water as he makes his way to the lair and Leo doesn't understand the significance behind it.

"As you can obviously tell, this isn't the main pathway. In fact, it's one of our many secret pathways that only certain people know," Donnie proudly states. "But hey, that's just a theory. A vigilante theory."

"What if he just read Mikey's instructions wrong. A-And he got lost. I mean, the map he got directions from is pretty old," Leo reasons. Not to exaggerate, but he thinks he'll lose it if he finds out his friend is working with Ronin. High emphasis on if. Because that's not true.

Mikey taps his finger under his chin. "Then was the samurai's tracker on Usagi?"

Which is a really good question whether Leo likes it or not. The ornate-box turtle snaps his finger, chiming in another idea. "You said they since they're workin' together, then they must've worn the same cloak, yeah? 'Cause if that's true, then you should've been alerted ages ago."

Bless Mikey and his smart questions. The moment Donnie checks the tracker location, he lets out a frustrated sigh. His fingers tap against his forehead. "How perplexing. The tracker's activity is shown to be miles away, and that's when Usagi came over. I don't understand. How could this be..."

"Friend or not, Raph's mind ain't changin'," Raph declares.

The soft scattering footsteps make it's way to where the mini meeting is gathered. Turning their heads, everyone greets with open arms and warm smiles to Splinter. Leo offers him a mumbling greeting. He doesn't look him. "If I may intrude, but I couldn't help but overhear."

"Salutations, Papa. Did our in-depth conversation disrupt you from your slumber?" Donnie enquires. 

The rat yokai shakes his head.

"Not at all, but thank you for your considerations. That's very kind of you," Splinter says affectionately. Not bothering to hide it, Donnie's mouth stretches upwards at the compliment, stomping one of his legs to the floor as he starts clapping to himself; a common sign of satisfaction. Splinter turns to everyone, standing behind the couch. "It is quite hard to gain more information when we want him far as possible. So, I have a proposal to make: you bring him over more often, Blue."

"WHAT!?"

"Ughh, you know how much I hate unfamiliar people coming over."

"Aw yeah, baby!"

"Really?" Leo's small voice makes him sound unsure and vulnerable. It's the opposite of what he wants to present himself. But that's not what matters. He just wants to make sure he isn't hearing things.

Splinter nods his head. "Absolutely. It's like that saying. Uh. Keep your best friends close, but enemies closer," he recalls. Making his way over to the kitchen, he takes some of Raph's soup portions, not before he relaxes his shoulders sniffing taking in the savory scent. The rat yokai looks Leo in the eye before suggesting, "and if you're going to tutor him, might as well tutor him at home. It's more convenient, and we'll be able to keep a closer eye on him. And besides, it's important for friends to gain trust when building a relationship."

And suddenly, Leo feels like he wants to sink into his shell and never come back out. Surely, he doesn't know. Usagi probably also saw him as a friend, so there's no point in unraveling those deep, complex feelings he wants to stay hidden. Just a silly thought. But it becomes more than a silly thought when Splinter looks back with fond eyes and yep. He knows. 

Unaware of Leo's internal dilemma, Donnie makes his way back to his room. He bumps Leo by the shoulder.

"For the record, just because I like his cooking does NOT mean I accept him," Donnie hunches over himself. He crosses his arms. Mistaking Leo's starstruck behavior for his inability to make a comeback (and totally not because he made a huge realization), the softshell narrows his eyes. "Just you wait, Nardo. My genius inventions will prove you wrong, I know it will. All I need is more time."

Despite the chaos and minor threat, Leo feels his heart soaring through the clouds and beyond. Finally, he has an excuse to hang out with Usagi more! Maybe he's reacting more positively than he should be, but whatever. He's just happy he doesn't have to come up with lies anymore. Pleased with ending the discussion on a good note, no one seems to note Leo's excitement emitting through the rapid wags of his tail.

Nobody but Mikey.

-

The Hidden City is getting colder by the month.

Sitting by the perch of a towering building, the samurai carefully watches the Hidden City market become consumed by hordes of different colors and shapes. And infecting the bright crowd, several yokai in dark purple approach nearby residents, holding up a piece of paper before asking them question. Every one of them shake their head.

His red eyes focus on them. He doesn't have to assume to know it's a wanted poster of him. They've been following him for a while now, but he's never actually seen them actively searching for him in public. It's tricky to vanish. No matter how hard he tries to blend in, Ronin always catches them watching in the background. Behind his boss' window. Between lumps of junk. It's clear their unwavering determination won't stop until they've captured him; lurking, and ready to pounce at the given opportunity.  

Both his ears picks up a faint buzz like sound.

He carefully slides his hands behind the collar of his hakama and lo and behold, there is something there. It's a small black device, circular in shape with details too small to notice. But he recognizes that 'D' trademark anywhere. Since when did that get there? How odd. Nonetheless, he attaches it back to its original place. He has to keep a low profile. He's already made it this far befriending the Hamatos', and he most definitely doesn't need to give them another reason to distrust him, not when Raph clearly states his skepticism. So, he'll play along as the big bad villain waiting to disrupt whatever plan they have up their sleeve. 

To pass time, he takes out another trinket from his pocket. It's relatively bigger than the tracker. And now that he looks at it more carefully, he recognizes that signature zig-zagged line on it. It's the button he stole from Leo the other day. Not that he knows what the purpose serves, but he doesn't plan on using it anytime soon.

Used only for emergency occasions, he concludes. 

He sighs. The small crowd of dark purple continue to embark their search for him. They aren't giving up anytime soon, are they? Turning his back, he makes his way down the abandoned building. No point observing something he can't stop. There's too many of them anyways. 

Ronin wonders how long he has to keep hiding before everything falls apart.

Chapter Text

As of recently, working at the diner has been feeling… off.

Off, being something familiar is amiss and Usagi couldn't put his finger on what it is, but not off-off, where he felt disconnected and couldn't tell what was real or not. That's what Usagi has been battling for the past few days. He thought it would’ve been because of the overwhelming number of customers coming by, or maybe it was because of the same complaints received from that bird yokai that couldn’t resist picking at his every move (god forbid him be a teenager). But still no.

And if one asked him how that fidgety feeling actually felt, then he would answer with an unsure shrug. Not because it's just the standard answer to any question, but because he genuinely doesn't know what to say that'll make the most logical sense. It starts off as a minor distraction. Small and unnoticeable. Something along the lines of a spiked ball tumbling inside. But the more he pushes down that feeling, the bigger the ball eventually accumulates to, and the more uncomfortable the spikes become. He's tried keeping himself more occupied, staying out later as Ronin, helping out more misguided kids nearing his age. And yes, it staves that feeling away for a couple hours, days if he's lucky, but it doesn't completely solve it. Respectfully speaking, he understands how exaggerated it sounds and wouldn't blame anyone for scratching their heads at the analogy of his restless attitude.  

Which is exactly why when he hears the door swing widely, that spiked ball shrinks drastically and Usagi cracked the code. He doesn’t need to look to know who it is. That charming voice was enough. In all honesty, he doesn’t even know why he didn’t expect Leo to make an appearance sooner.

The slider strides towards Usagi.

“Looking sharp, Usa,” Leo clicks finger guns at him. His voice still has a hint of raspy, but it sounds better than the last time.

It’s good to know he’s back. While chatting with him, Usagi couldn't help but notice a new change of wardrobe from Leo. Hidden beneath the blue zip up jacket, a navy-blue strap snugly hugs his plastron. He usually wears black. 

“What can I say? I dress to impress. And you're not too bad yourself. Special occasion?” Usagi leans, elbow on the edge of the front desk.

"Read my mind. Table for one, please."

The rabbit fixes the looseness of his tie. “If you are here to dine, I'm afraid I have bad news. This place is filled to the max. A shame really. Looks like you’ll have to come back tomorrow unless you’ve booked beforehand.” 

Leo takes a quick look around the establishment, eyes wandering past the empty chairs filling up half the room. He nods thoughtfully with a solemn expression. Usagi lets out a little laugh. If Usagi was anyone else, he would’ve caved into Leo’s deceit. “Oh, my deepest apologies. Let me just,” Leo brings his makeshift phone to his ear. His thumb and pinky finger extends on both ends. A static hum strings out of his mouth. Usagi copies him. “Double check real quick. Hm, strange. Seems like I already did. Maybe you didn’t hear me, is the connection bad on your end?” 

Leo’s leaning closer. So close, Usagi could almost feel his breath tickle his cheek. "Since when did you book?"

"Just now. Now, may I order?"

"I don't know, can you?" Stifling a laugh, Usagi 'ends the call' and pulls out his notepad. “Took you long enough, anyways.”

Leo lets out an offended gasp, slamming a hand to the table. Usagi’s beginning to love his dramatics. “I’ll have you know that being sick was NOT fun. And the disrespect! Where's your manager, I demand to speak to them immediately.”

"I'm the manager, actually."

"Why you-" 

Within the previous few days, he's noticed how the majority of Leo’s calls have been less about ordering and more to ‘pass time’. All allegedly. But perhaps he’s looking into it deeper than he should. It started off with pizza orders, then how their day went, then to getting to know each other. And Usagi’s not complaining. The only time he has was whenever his 4th senses alerted him of his boss’ presence, or his break was over his dismay. 

At some point, Leo himself suggested that he gift him a phone made by Donnie. But as enticing as it sounded, he doesn’t think he can sleep with a good conscience knowing how generous Leo has been. It feels so undeserving, because what is it about him that makes him so special? One of a kind.

Plus, he doesn’t think he can handle being tracked twice. (excluding the fancy button stolen from Leo. It’d be funny if it was an escape pod.)

Leo imitates a sorrowful look. “Welp, just my luck. If I can’t dine in, why not I order a take away?”

“What did you have in mind.”

Playing along, Leo clicks his tongue and snaps his fingers. “I’ll have one white rabbit, and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Dining some exotic animal? What are you, a billionaire?” The corners of his mouth quirk up. Leaving that small front desk, he makes his way over to Leo, softly bumping his shoulder against the other. Leo looks at him curiously, unashamed to flaunt that smile of his, eyes hooded like confidence runs in his veins. Since when did he start hating that careless smile? 

"Hell yeah I am. This smile of mine is priceless," Leo wags his brows beneath the mask. 

Usagi thinks it'll look even funnier without. Lifting his head, he responds with a smooth, "Or it's because it has no worth?" Ignoring Leo's gaping mouth and widened eyes, he looks behind the slider. As much as he wants to leave, he also doesn’t want to leave his job unfinished. “Give me a couple minutes.”

“But a couple minutes feel like a lifetime. You're literally killing me with the wait,” Leo moans. 

“Then die,” Usagi pats his shoulder without an ounce of remorse. 

He makes his way over and takes a couple orders. To his relief, the list wasn’t fairly long and overcomplicated, but was still quite time consuming. Whether it be the lack of employees staffed or something happened in the kitchen, but it took a painfully long time for the dishes to be prepared and served. And just when he's about to end his shift too. With nothing to do, someone would coincidentally interrupt him midway, and when he tried searching for Leo, a phone call from the front desk would always occupy him from doing so.

So, Usagi gave up trying to find his blue masked friend and opted to camping beside the kitchen doors. Waiting for the green light to serve the dishes, so he could get the hell out of this disgustingly greasy uniform.

-

Leo's not exaggerating when he feels his brain rotting by the second without Usagi's company. Ok fine. He's doing quite alright where he is, playing the waiting game doesn't hurt anyone. But he really thought that being over the top would convince Usagi.

Deprived of that shy laugh and backhanded replies, Leo's stuck benched on a bar stool with no one to talk to and plenty of time in his hands. He doesn't want to bother entertaining the customers when he's in a mood. And because of that, he's going to make it everyone's problem and he's not afraid to do so. Looking over, the only noteworthy thing was the unfinished content of a dark purple beverage sitting beside. It appears that someone left before finishing. Swirling the glass, Leo swallows a shaky breath as he stares into his reflection. His ennui dispersed the second he saw another reflection, one that he prayed would disappear, becoming suddenly too aware of the fastened beat of his hammering heart. That piercing red beam surrounded by a body of metal, stares back.

The warm atmosphere drops and Run of The Mill doesn't feel as homely as intended.

"You can't keep ignoring me, turtle."

The alien shifts on the stool. Twisting its head, a rusted metal skewers the peaceful atmosphere, giving Leo its upmost undivided attention. Slowly, a cloud of steam fizzles out of the general's mouth, musing a mocking tone, "Still pretending I'm a figment of your imagination? Hilarious, really. This works with me either way. Enjoy your freedom while you can. But you'll know who gets the final laugh when all organic life becomes exterminated by my hands." He looks over to Leo. A scoff leaves its mouth, amused to see Leo refusing to acknowledge its presence. "Because strength always prevails."

Nothing responds back.

The same old combination of jazz and Spanish background music entwines with the endless chatter within the diner, overlapping with the threats. Still, Leo continues to play his part and act as if he's had a long day, and a swig of an unidentified drink would help cure it. Out of sheer boredom, a sharp ended finger drags across the table. It leaves a deep mark on the wooden surface. 

"I must say, you never cease to stop surprising me. It's fascinating how determined you are to befriend him," the Krang changes topic, seeing that berating him won't make much progress.

A mischievous smile carves into it's mouth, satisfied watching Leo's eye twitch. But he's still not looking at them. "You know what'll happen when he finds out about your mission."

"He won't," Leo grinds his teeth. "I'll make sure of it."

"I have no interest in your 'personal' relationships' whatsoever. But when the day comes, I'll enjoy meticulously tearing him a part. Piece by piece." The Krang sits closer to Leo, making sure he doesn't miss out on any details. "And you'll have the honors of watching it happen."

He slams a fist onto the bar bench. Both his shoulders wobble, shaken up by the gradual echoes of the Krang's cruel laughter. The damage doesn't break through the surface, but it does leave a prominent punch shaped indent. Tío's gonna have his shell if he doesn't come up with a plausible excuse. Immediately tucking it back to his sides, he tries to ignore how the splinters dig past his scales.

"Woah. Back it up," a deep voice jokes. A seat screeches next to him, not before a heavy weight shift onto it. Leo turns to look at the seat. 

The Krang is nowhere to be seen. 

Rather a large mass of corroded metal, a hyena yokai that he's never seen before, takes the seat. One that's taller and definitely older than Leo, if anyone were to guess. He flashes a wide grin. Leo offers a strained smile.

"My bad I uh, saw a fly."

The hyena takes a good look at the table. First, at the blatant hole in front of Leo, adjoined with large and drastic cracks on the bench. Next, the long straight line concaved in front of him, the neat handiwork emulating precision and composure. He looks at the unoccupied drink in Leo's hand. "Thanks for looking after my drink, but aren't you a bit young to have that?"

Mumbling an apology, Leo hands the glass to the other. Gladly taking it, the hyena's eyes widen with recognition. "No way, aren't you the heroes that saved New York?"

Heroes, huh? Leo's eyes crinkle. From what should've been interpreted as a compliment, felt more backhanded. He doesn't feel like one, and sure is hell one either. Heroes are supposed to protect people. To think ahead. To listen to their team. Gifting him that title makes Leo feel so wrong. It's for that naive red-eared slider that loved boasting his Lair Games medals and skateboarded like his life depended on it. Nowadays, he can barely keep a strong front whenever he hears someone appraise his bravery, probably collecting cobwebs by his lack of use for it. 

It must be from his uneventful conversation previously, but he couldn't help but feel something is off. Sensing that something lies beyond that curious persona. Whatever it is, Leo assures himself that it's just him. Unsure where this is leading to, Leo musters the energy to appear enthusiastic.

"Sure am! How can Neon Leon help you?"

"Oh, it's nothing big," the hyena sheepishly laughs. Unscrewing the pen lid, he lays it flat on the table, along with a piece of paper assumed to be signed on. He taps a finger on it. "Could I get your autograph right there? I'm a huge fan."

It's a cut out newspaper article discussing the Krang invasion, the bold headlines emphasizing the death count and causalities. 

And on the dead center, there's a red 'X' mark scribbled on Leo's head.

-

When he emerges duty free, he half expects to hear Leo say something stupid that would make social anxiety itself afraid. Most likely along the thought process of a cheesy overused pickup line, “Are you craving Pizza? Because I’d love to get a pizz-a you,” and a wolf whistle.

This wasn’t what he expected.

To his surprise, he sees a hyena yokai busy towering, barely making out the slider if not for his blue hoodie peeking out of the large mass of black. 

The two are engrossed in a hushed conversation, but Usagi doesn’t need a second opinion to know it’s one-sided. The hyena in question had a pitch black mohawk slicked, save for the occasional frost tips, long enough to poke through his collar but not thick enough to shield the silver earrings looped on each lobe. Layered with a leather jacket, he really establishes an intimidating character. The more they talk, the more Leo appears to be uncomfortable. Clearly, Leo backs away and subconsciously tries to put space between them, but his attempts fall on deaf ears once the hyena places an elbow on the counter, suffocating Leo with his presence. What the hell happened when he was gone for those several minutes?

“Speak up, I can’t hear you over your stutters,” the hyena snickers.

Leo appears to struggle tamping down his frustrations. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, with so much to say but nothing coming out. “Y-You have n-n-no right say-saying that to me-”

“M-m-me,” the hyena mocks him with a pitched voice. Throwing his head back howling with laughter, he holds his stomach like it's the funniest thing he’s ever heard. No one else is laughing. “God you’re insufferable. Do everyone a favor and shut up, will ya?”

And so he does. 

Leo shrinks in his seat, hand clamped onto the cushioned stool and desperately trying to suppress that shake, lest it makes him appear even lesser. It doesn’t work. Nearby patrons are stuck in between the crosshairs of wanting to do something, and staying safe in their respective seat. 

The hyena wipes a tear from his eye. Whether it was fake or not, Usagi doesn’t know and doesn’t care, not when he’s got a clenched fist and an intent involving a broken bottle and a bloody mass on the floor. And he’s not going to be the one bleeding. 

“Oh, where’s the so called fearless leader now? You weren’t shy running your mouth when your brothers were white-knighting you. But now they’re not here,” the taunts keep rolling out. Not planning to stop anytime soon.

Alright, that’s it, Usagi decides. He storms towards them both and clears his throat. Leo whips his head around, while the hyena side eyes.

“Step away from him,” Usagi warns. 

The hyena leans back at the counter, bothered by Usagi’s threats. “Or what? What are you gonna do? Kick me out with your cute fluffy feet? Please. And who are you supposed to be, anyways?”

“That’s not relevant,” Usagi grits his teeth. 

“Usagi, please. Just ignore him. He’s not worth it,” Leo tugs on his sleeve for comfort. He looks at Usagi with pleading eyes, ones that have seen too much for someone as young as him. Must be serious if Leo called him by his full name, Usagi thinks.

Refusing to become distracted, Usagi scrunches his nose, ignoring how deep his nails dig into his palm.

“Oh no, I think it is relevant, actually,” the hyena hooks an arm around Leo’s neck. Leo falls still, awfully still for such a long time. Like one wrong move and something bad will happen to him. “Because Neon Leon here, sure loves making it known how heroic he is.”

“I think it’s more concerning how you’re bullying a literal kid,” Usagi shifts the conversation back on topic. 

He sees what the hyena is doing, and he’s not going to let him slide. He just hopes that his English vocabulary range is well enough to not be picked on. Usagi offers a hand to Leo, giving him a clearway to escape the confinements of ridicules. Hesitantly, Leo raising his hand and makes his way towards Usagi. That spotted palm swatts his hand away before he could even reach Usagi's. Usagi inhales throughout his nose.

“Bullying? You’ve gotten it all wrong. Me and my buddy were just-uh, having a little chat. Weren’t we?”

Leo doesn’t reply.

Huffing, he harshly pats Leo’s shell. Leo flinches. Backhanding his mouth, the hyena leans forward and whispers to Usagi, as if he's speaking in secrecy and doesn't want to offend Leo. How hypocritical. Usagi quickly backs away from him, but the grey spotted yokai doesn't seem to mind. “He’s a bit on the shy side, but you know. He’ll come around.” 

“Don’t act like you know Leo.”

“Oh? But I do, actually." He stands up. Walking away from his stool, he raises his arms towards the audience watching the scene unravel. Everybody has their eyes on the commotion. Usagi’s eyes trail away from the seated customers, before landing on the hyena. The hyena stops a couple steps from him. If he narrows his eyes, he sees Leo sigh shakily. To his relief, Leo hastens behind him.

Cushioning his hands behind his head, the posture makes him appear unphased by Usagi’s presence, chuckling a low, “Everybody in this room knows the real him.” He looks around before at Usagi. There’s a hungry glint in his eyes that Usagi knows too well. Hungry for power. For revenge. “But apparently you’re an expectation.”

“Why are you even acting like this? What has he even done to you?” Usagi reasons. Because really, there was nothing he could think of that would make him hate Leo, and he thinks that goes the same for everyone else. Nearly everyone else.
 
“Oh, he knows what he did. I’ll tell you that alright,” a low growl emits from the hyena. He points an accusatory finger at Leo. “He’s the reason why my family’s barely holding on. Because of him and his gang, my family’s been hunkering in shelter homes, and even those are jam packed. We lost everything that day. Our house. The family heirlooms. Abuelita,” a breath quivers from his mouth. Taking a moment to compose himself, he slowly makes his way to Usagi and stops before him. Usagi huffs out his chest, but it doesn’t translate to the same level of confidence. “So tell me,” the hyena huffs. “Why are you siding with the one that started that goddamn invasion?”

With the lack of nearby conversation and background jazz, Usagi could really feel the tension pour in. All eyes were on him.

The hyena shakes his head in disbelief.

“Unbelievable. You’re definitely not from around here. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard about the Krang invasion?”

Leo freezes. Usagi looks at him with curious eyes, but Leo doesn’t respond. He just stares off into a distance. Stone frozen. Usagi tries to gently shake him, but Leo doesn’t dare move. Instead, he clamps his eyes shut, squeezing his shoulders to cease his trembling. Usagi could still feel those tiny tremors erupt.

He's no mind reader, and he's not sure what Leo was expecting him to say, but he’s wrong if he thought he’d side with a moron. And Usagi was going to prove him otherwise. Letting go of Leo’s arm, he storms closer to the hyena. From there, he could feel those disgusting huffs of air, distracting himself form the awful sweet scent by glaring at him. There's no debate that Usagi was definitely showering after today, even if it’s a public shower in an underpriced gym. He also bets that washing away that revolting smell will take the force of a thousand suns because sheesh even being in the same room as that guy reeks trouble.

“I don’t care what your problem is, but you need to back off.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said, pretty boy?”

Usagi lowers his head. Somehow, that nickname sounds worse coming from anyone but Leo.

“Yeah, and I don’t care,” Usagi states. Young, old, and in between. The growing crowd of curious eyes observe the heavy debate between him and the hyena, that familiar claustrophobic feeling reeling back from the rise of attention received. But as overwhelming as it may feel, there’s one that he is appreciative of. For one, he’s glad he can feel Leo’s eyes on him. Shocked or something, he doesn’t know. “But what I do know is that you’re being a huge jerk. What’s an old fart like you targeting a teenager? Hm? Ever thought about that?”

“Someone ought to teach you some respect,” the hyena bars his teeth. Open for all to see, Usagi could make out the canine tooth’s razor sharpness, confidently flaunting the deathly aftermath likely caused by them. That doesn't scare Usagi. “Are you asking for a fight?”

“I’m not. But you clearly are,” Usagi doesn’t back down. His fingers itch towards the pencil in his pocket (which thankfully has the hole sewn shut. All thanks to Leo’s gift). It’s blunt by the tip and can barely serve the purpose it’s made for, but it sure could pack a mean jab to the arm. 

And for what felt like an eternity, the two of them just glared at each other. Awaiting for the other to make the first move.

Without warning, the hyena snags his half-empty drink and splashes it all over Usagi, the deep purple immediately invading his red tie and white shirt. Which also brings up the worrying question of the state of his fur in said area. He scrunches his nose. The bitter scent smells awfully like alcohol. And there goes his favourite uniform. It doesn’t take long before Usagi decides that yep, now is probably the optimal time to send off his now tainted uniform in a viking burial. But on a better note, he’s grateful that it landed on anywhere else.

The shoulder of the hyena smashes into Usagi’s, strong impact leaving the rabbit slightly swaying. It’s not long before he staggers away to the exit. He stops. Gripping onto the door frame, turns to the rabbit.

“You’ll regret being his friend.” And just like that, he’s out the door.

Wasting no time to ponder those remarks, Usagi whirls his head to Leo. He looks at him with concern. “Leonardo-san!? Are you alright?”

He facepalms himself. Oroka. Of course he isn’t fine.

Leo blinks. Then he breathlessly chuckles, grabbing a nearby napkin to reassess the damage on Usagi’s uniform. Unfortunately, it’s in the dead centre and likely wouldn’t leave the washer unscathed. “You’re worried about me? He literally chucked a drink at you.”

“And he made you feel terrible,” Usagi interrupts.

As expected, Leo doesn’t say anything back. The words die in his mouth before he could even get them out. He looks down at his shuffling feet, fiddling with the hem of his fraying sleeve cuff. Saving them both the trouble, Usagi’s ears perk up to that familiar Spanish ringtone of the front desk phone.

Scrambling to the front desk, he picks up the phone and prepares his customer service voice. To his relief, he hears that deep voice he knows too well.

“Conejo. I presume everything is so far so good at the diner?”

“Not really,” Usagi admits. “Something did come up before my shift ended. I want to file a temporary ban for a specific customer.”

“Oh. I was expecting more of a supply shortage, or an accident. But if that’s the case, stay until I get back. After we take a look at the security camera, you’ll also need to file-”

“Leonardo-san was also involved.”

The line goes silent. Usagi spares a glance at Leo for moral support, but it appears that he’s mindlessly staring at a dark corner. Like he doesn’t want to tear away from something lurking within. Not bothered to question, Usagi turns back to the situation at hand.

He clears his throat. “And uh, I was wondering if I could hang out. With him. To keep his mind off things… please?” Usagi hesitates. He really needs to work on faking his confidence.

“... If you missed him, you could’ve just said so.”

The small part of Usagi was secretly glad Leo’s distracted, because boy did he feel like a kettle threatening to burst. Covering his face, he forces his red-faced self to turn away from everyone else and to the blank space of wall with shame, whisper-yelling a sharp, “Huseo!”

“Have fun, conejo,” Huseo ignores his stammers. “Though, do make sure to come back and file that paperwork. If you need help, I’ll be in my office as usual. The sooner done, the better.”

Placing it back into the phone slot, Usagi takes a good look at his drenched uniform and considers what his next course of action is. With the way the spilt beverage sticks to his fur, it’s a no-brainer that he wants out. As soon as possible. He really wants to change out of his uniform, but leaving Leo waiting miserably felt somehow worse. Who knows what else would escalate with his absence? He knows how physically capable Leo is under any circumstance despite his knee injury, he’s seen it countless times, whether it’s towards him or someone else. But he can’t say the same for his mental state.

So, he does what seems the most logically sound.

Still behind the front desk table, he hoists the barrel bag onto the wooden surface and unzips it. He unbuttons his black vest. Finally noticing what was happening, Leo looks at him with creased brows. He quickly snaps himself out of ogling the rabbit. Searching around the vicinity, the slider looks left and right at the speed of light before making a maddening dash to Usagi. His entire body shields Usagi.

“DUDE. You’re changing out here!? In public!? And the other night, you literally said I had no shame,” Leo exclaims. Rolling his eyes, Usagi strips off his tie and tosses his vest into the barrel bag, replaced by his hoodie. This time, Leo looks even more mortified. Almost as if Usagi’s presence offended him.

"What now?" Usagi deadpans.

“I know Huseo said you were clumsy, but this is a whole ‘nother level,” the slider jokes. Though, the smile doesn’t necessarily meet his eyes. “You should put an apron on before you even cook. Isn’t that a part of the whole waiter proto-shazam?”

Must’ve meant protocol, Usagi concludes. Looking down, he bites hard onto his tongue to resist letting out a groan. Leo isn’t wrong. Comparing his hoodie and stained shirt, he might as well just go out with the drenched shirt. From the bottom to the middle, the teal hoodie itself is hard evidence of a murder scene. And he has no one but himself to blame for picking anything but that. When he’s not actively on the lookout for bounty hunters, he occasionally cooks with that specific hoodie, the mass of oil stains creating the perfect illusion of his gracelessness. But the thick splash of dried red covering his lower half was not from tomato sauce. Usagi clicks his tongue thinking for an answer. He hates how his shirt coarsely rubs against the thick scar slashed by his hip, making him more aware of how close to death he was.

But he likes this hoodie. It's one of the few articles of clothing that actually keeps him warm for the night. Yet, he couldn't stop thinking about how excited Leo was to put his ideas to good use. How in that fraction of time, he forgot about all that happened beforehand. 

“Help me out then,” Usagi suggests.

Eager to hear that answer, Leo searches and circles around the front desk table. His hand emerges with a pair of scissors. Unbothered to use actual measurements, he tosses the measuring tape (that he conveniently has lying around in his fanny pack, which makes Usagi question what other hijinks he has) and begins filing away the red stained fabric. 

“Stand back and relax, you’re in good hands.”

“Somehow that doesn’t comfort me. At all.”

“Where’s your faith in me?”

“Long gone in the sewers,” Usagi smirks.

He remembers Leo responding the same thing not too long ago. Along with the momentary snip snip, Usagi could make out a faint, “oh my god,” thrown out. He imagines him shaking his head light-heartedly. While Leo was transforming his vision into a reality, Usagi couldn’t help but feel self-conscious of himself. It's not your average weekday afternoon that you'll see two teenagers slashing away bits of an old hoodie, and it most certainly isn't normal to see such a life threatening scar embedded on one of them.

Not that he was ever ashamed of them, he always liked how it made him look tough. But this is different. He doesn't care if yokai passing by give him strange looks or pitiful looks (the one he's most insecure about is the one on his shoulder), but he doesn't know how Leo will take it. 

Sick of the hesitation building up inside, Usagi looks down at Leo. He blurts out a quick, "Don't you want to ask about it?"

"About...?"

Leo looks away from Usagi, only to be met with the topic of question. Up close, it's undeniable how Leo can observe all the details, the gruesome nature, and the ugly story behind it. "Well, do you want me to?"

All Usagi gives him is a squinted look. Leo continues to clear up the confusion.

"I don't really care, man. If anything, I think it's fine. Really fits your whole 'I don't have an ounce of happiness inside me, but I'm secretly caring and soft on the inside' aesthetic. And yes, I have been taking classes from Dr Feeling. No, don't ask me who Dr Feelings is, he's a whole other package to deal with and today's enough of that. Not to be wise and all, but someone I know told me that scars," Leo says slower than usual. Focused with getting the right words out. "Are a part of you. You can't really get rid of it like a stain on a shirt, or on a hoodie. And it just shows how uh... strong you are," Leo struggles to get the last few words out.

"Oh wow..."

Which is awfully sweet that he remembered.

Usagi presumed that Leo only listened because he had no other choice. As selfish as it may sound, he didn't say those words out of obligation to lift Leo's mood, but rather to lift his own. Every now and then, his mind would enter an eternal loop of battling the events of that tragic accident. Angry at his impulsive decisions, sad that no one helped little Usagi when he needed them most, and mournful that his sister never got the chance to make reckless decisions and live a long life. His aunt lost two children that night. That's when that spiked ball started to tousle and roll inside. And it just so happened that the both of them landed in the same holding cell, forcing them to initiate an unprompted bonding session, sparking an opportunity to rid that shameful feeling. It's a shame that Leo hates Ronin's guts.

Exceeding Usagi's expectations, all Leo does is take one long look before going about his day. As if it was never there.

Leo stands up. Finally finished with his handiwork, the slider crosses his arms and admires the final product of whatever’s left of the hoodie. Without a mirror to admire, he could only crane his neck downwards.

Now cropped to his ribcage, he notices how the sleeves have also been sawed off. Not too high up, but to the elbows - a length that Usagi was most definitely comfortable with. Even if this was out of his comfort zone in terms of style, he was grateful with what he had. At least it got rid of that metallic scent. But in all seriousness, it’s pretty decent. One of the sides may look higher than the other, and it may look like a five-minute crafts hack was illegally performed. But Usagi’s standards were never high to begin with.

“Wow Usa, look at you,” Leo whistles. “I didn’t know you had drip. Where did you get that from? A professional stylist? You gotta recommend me.”

Usagi elbows him. Leo dodges him before he can do so. “Now do a little twirl for me.”

“But I look stupid,” Usagi's words contradiction the smile creeping onto his face. It shows off his crooked teeth.

“No you don’t, and whoever says otherwise needs to mind their own business. Now shut up and do a three-sixty for me.”

Giggling at the absurdity of the situation (especially how it’s happening in the middle of a diner), Usagi compiles. He flips his ears into the wind when he hears that uproaring cheer, “WHOO HOO!! That’s more like it.”

Slowing down on the clapping, Leo looks to the ground. He makes a face Usagi knows means trouble. “Eugh boy. Uh. You didn’t need that shirt anymore, did’ja?”

He joins Leo and looks down at the disorganized clumps of teal and white fabric. Seems like he’ll have to ask Huseo for a spare white button up. Again. 

That problem is the least of his worries.

But only after they exit the diner, did Usagi truly see what’s going on behind that nonchalant smile. Now familiar with sensing that off feeling, the rabbit does what he knows best - he watches closely. And he sees it. For a split second, he watches Leo’s smiles drop, mind elsewhere and deeply engrossed in whatever’s going on in his head, likely replaying that awful interaction with the hyena in his mind. So, Usagi takes a deep breath in and tightens up his big boy pants. He can process his internal turmoil after the day's over and his thoughts become louder than the blaring traffic and overlapping passersby conversations. Right now, Leo needs him more than ever.

He was going to go out and have a freakin' blast because he has the best tourist in the Hidden City. 

Chapter Text

Now boarding the light rail and far away from the diner, Usagi was hoping things would change for the better. It’s not like he was asking much anyways. All he wanted was for things to go smoothly and to end on a high note.

With a whole lot of silence and a whole lot of nothing to do, he was half-expecting Leo to fill the air with conversation, ranging from the trivial brotherly antics of the week to the most absurd mishaps during his missions. Buzzing to get a word out is one of his greatest expertise, afterall. And while he goes on and on for an impressively long time, Usagi would busy himself with whatever while listening to the former like an audiobook (he’s still getting used to that concept. It still fascinated him to no end that people could go hours talking without stopping, but Leo himself was walking proof). More frequently than not, the roles would reverse and Leo would give his undivided attention to Usagi’s childhood shenanigans. For hours they would laugh and casually teach each other a certain word from their languages, and just enjoy the presence of the two of them alone. 

Because that’s how it usually rolls. But it appears the universe had other plans.

Not only did they board during one of the busiest hours, but it was so jam packed that the sea of yokai were practically squeezing the lights out of Usagi. All the pushing and shoving around him didn't help simmer down the discomfort bubbling because rude much? With so many bound inside, the mixture of grime and sweat and pitched baby wails and unshielded crunchy coughs would send anyone in an instant flurry, because Usagi was hanging on a single string. 

But it was probably worse for Leo. The slider barely uttered anything more than a couple phrases, but Usagi appreciates the strained smile he gives in spite of everything.

So once they squeeze themselves out of that claustrophobic hellscape, Usagi already has a plan sitting in his mind on ways to cheer Leo up, idly waiting to be set to motion. Guaranteed for success and disaster-proofed. Opening up the folded map, Usagi waves away the cloud of dust dispersing before him. He takes a good look at the colorful array of overlapping shapes and arrows pointing to certain booths, earning a long head scratch from the rabbit. Maps were never that confusing in Neo Edo. 

"So, Mr Leonardo 'part time tour guide' Hamato," Usagi hums with interest. His hand folds it back into his pocket, not bothering to spare a second glance. He’s already forgotten what the layout looks like. "Where are we off to next?”

Leo squints at his phone, blueish glow illuminating a simpler version of the Hidden City map. Perhaps under a different circumstance, he would've gracefully accepted the slider's offer in getting Donnie's prototyped phone. "Well, for starters, we could begin exploring one of the Hidden City's most popular attractions. Behold," he announces. Leo watches him look at him, then the stall. 

Eyeing the scene between the slider's wiggling hands, Usagi turns to him unimpressed. "I thought you wanted to show me somewhere... less boring."

That cheeky turtle must've been getting a good laugh out of his dumbfounded reaction. "Oh, this must be one of your jokes. Ha ha. Very funny. Got me there," Usagi says dryly. However, Leo's indifferent look doesn't sync with Usagi's words. 

"Well, as much I'm big on fun, I'm also big on you not getting lost in buying the most basic needs."

"This is a market. That sells fruits."

"Mhm."

"And we can go anywhere else, but you chose that our number one stop, would be a fruit market."

"Exact-a-mundo."

Not bothered to hide his brief moment of confusion, a disbelief, "Are you tormenting me," slithers out of his throat. Crimson eyes lever away from smug honey yellow. Locking his arms in a crossed shape, Leo barks out a sharp laugh, leaving Usagi more confused than ever. Why he's always late to the joke, that's a mystery harder to solve than the identity of Ronin. "As much as I appreciate your suggestions, why even go there?"

Calming down, Leo turns to him with a sneaky glint. "Recognize the stall then?"

"Not really- so what? You're suddenly a fruit expert, hm?" Usagi proudly barks back. His sly smile stretches at his companion's sudden change of reaction. But deep down, Usagi has an inkling feeling that it wasn't the fact that he came up with a response in record time, but the implications of it that sent Leo into a spluttering spiral. 

"That's not even important. I don't think you're hearing yourself, Leonardo-san. Do you really want to be stuck here picking out fruit?" Pieces of a couple wooden somethings clank inside his bag.

"Crystal, but that's not the point. Are you hearing yourself out? There's only one market in the whole wide Hidden City, and you barely knowing it is already a huge yikes. And you're talking to someone that worships on pineapple pizza and Baja blast all day, every day. And ah ah, don't even pull the 'I can live without it'. Don't be a Don. You can't seriously be hogging off the diner's leftover scraps," Leo gives him a pointed look. Clearly, he already knows the answer from Usagi's inability to look him in the eyes, defeated reaction imitating a scolded child. 

"Usagi. "

"Leonardo-san."

Leo couldn't have looked more disappointed than today. "Man, you have got to expand your food variety. Now toss that mopey look outta here and let's get going, you should be thanking me instead. I'm saving your tastebuds," Leo says. He suddenly stops, ending his trail of thought with his finger touching Usagi's nose, a small boop leaving his mouth. 

"Okonomiyaki pancakes and pasta are enough," Usagi mumbles. Begrudgingly, he follows suite. 

But he's right. Usagi has only been here for a couple months at best, and in comparison, Leo's a literal veteran at identifying which stall was which, and which ones should be avoided at all costs if he wanted to leave without his wallet feeling robbed. Or lack thereof. And it does sound logical for the most part... if those words hadn't come from Leo. It's not that his suggestions were wrong, but rather who was saying it. It was just so unlike him. It was so unusual how he was helping Usagi familiarize himself with the place. He was still getting used to having a friend, so maybe that's what friends are supposedly for. 

He could always pretend to act surprised and let out a sudden gasp whenever Leo says something smart for once, but at the end of the day, he'd find himself eager to learn more about the slider. So off they went, shimmying past and into nearest stall of perishable goods, before finding themselves with face first with the fruit section. 

It's not the most exciting, but Usagi doesn't really complain. It could be worse. So off they went, shimmying past and into nearest stall of goods, before finding themselves with face first with a weird variety of fruit he’s never seen before.

Each stall is filled with odd looking fruits. Some have numerous eyeballs glued to his every move, another batch has blue feathers sticking out on a darker blue melon, weirdly enough. It makes him think who would dare take a bite out of that, because surely that couldn't have tasted great. But then again, that could just be a him problem.

From the corner of his eye, Usagi picks up the peculiar fruit. It's oval shaped with a pointed end and has a light orange color, whatever it is, it's making Usagi's mouth water from the sweet acidic scent. Hopefully it'll taste just the same. And to be fair, this one looks relatively normal out every other fruit. He hears footsteps walking to him. Taking a couple steps back, Leo's mouth makes a small oh shape at the fruit in Usagi's palm. "Damn, haven't seen a human fruit in ages. Mangoes are so boom, probably need to ask Mike to whip up something with that in it."

"Mangoes?" Usagi hums out the foreign name. "Interesting."

"Come again?"

"Don't think I've have tried mango," Usagi repeats.

Leo presses a finger on the rabbit's lips, resting on those chapped dryness. Usagi tries not to act startled. "Yeah, I heard you the first time. I don't mean this lightly when I say this Usa, but EXCUSE ME!? With an x and a q, ending with a full stop."

Disregarding his over the top behaviour, Usagi continues on his extravagant search for more fruit, flipping and tossing the mob of orange in an attempt to pipe down Leo's exaggerated gasps and blabber. Such a shame there's so many damn mangoes. "You're so full of yourself," he said.

"No, I'm serious. That should be a literal crime itself. Mango tastes heavenly- what kind of life have you been living!?" 

"One that's so horrific and unimaginable, apparently," a light chuckle fits in his mouth. But it’s not like he didn’t mean it. "Sorry I'm not as privileged as you, Leonardo-san," Usagi says with a sarcastic tone. Along with learning more English words, he's proud to say that he's also slowly mastering the sacred arts of sarcasm. For once, he can imagine Chizu feeling proud of him. "But growing up in Neo Edo also meant I missed out on trying citrus fruits. They always brought pests, so they banned shipping it all together," Usagi reasons. Still staring at him dumbfounded and in shock at the new information, Leo slowly reaches for two mangoes and places it in the shopping basket, all while not breaking eye contact. 

Over the top much? Usagi muses. Hiding his grin, his elbow softly nudges Leo's arm. The slider tenses from Usagi's sudden invitation of physical touch, but doesn't shy away from it either.

It's not like Usagi was paying attention to the time in particular, and maybe he should've. He's always felt at ease knowing that he has to be a certain place at a certain time, keeping him busy was all he ever knew. But there he was, wasting- no, sparing time to listen to Leo talk to him about targeting the fruits on sales and yes, the mere thought of buying that feathered fruit screamed danger.

And suddenly, he found himself biting away his earlier comments of Leo. He doesn't know how the slider does it, but there's something special about Leo. Of course there was, Usagi's only starting to notice them. Because he makes the most mundane things seem fun. Only when he's with Leo. 

Hadn't Usagi been too wrapped up in his internal monologue, he would've realised the small detail before him. Almost immediately, Leo snatches the yet full basket away from Usagi's hold, holding it close to him instead. Usagi snaps out of it. "Uh, sorry. What I said was stupid. You're probably right. This is probably a bad idea," Leo says in a hurry. As swiftly as he could, he tries to make himself appear calm and collected like how he did before, so they could go about their day without acknowledging the problem. But Usagi doesn't forget details. He may not notice them at first, but he'll find a way after looking over and over. And he most certainly didn't miss the way Leo subconsciously plucked at his fraying hoodie sleeve, or the way he uncomfortably shifted in his spot, waiting for the perfect opportunity to make a maddening dash once he utters the wrong words. 

What should he say at a time like this? He doesn’t respond to Leo’s claims. But rather, he peels away from the latter’s side, his ungloved hand reaches for the ugliest fruit he’s ever had the displeasure of seeing. Ignoring Leo’s confusion once more, he holds the blue feathered fruit to his friend’s face. 

“This,” he proclaims. “Looks exactly like your face.”

Surprisingly, this seems to shock Leo out of his self-loathing. Within a split second, he shoves Usagi’s arm away and snatches the indigo blue fruit into his hand, bringing it closer for closer inspection. 

“Nuh uh it doesn’t!”

“Does too. It’s diamond shaped, and stupid looking. Your perfect match,” Usagi sings. He tosses the fruit into their shopping basket.

Leo growls. He doesn’t spare much thought, snagging another fruit unluckily within his grasp and shoves it into Usagi’s face. “Well, this looks like you,” he retorts. It looks nothing like Usagi, save for the fluffy white top on the supposed white carrot. But Usagi’s not backing down.

“Oh yeah? Well, check this out, Leonardo-san!”

“I don’t even look remotely like that.”

“How could you say that to your long lost brother?”

“We’re distant cousins at best, but ain’t no way that’s my hermano .” 

“Pray tell.”

“Oh just you wait-”

Needless to say, they ended up with a basket more than mangoes. The cashier looks up at them with a raised brow, displeased at the tower of fruit compiling on the conveyor belt. Still, they let out a tired sigh before weighing each fruit and calculating the total price. Both of them are equally sweating profusely under the watchful gaze, but one accidental side glance stolen from Usagi and they both burst out cackling. 

Were one of the nickels a brown button and another a chocolate coin, then that wasn't Usagi's problem. He shoves the bagged fruits in his bag. No one bats an eye at the abnormally large storage his bag carries. Waving away the oblivious cashier, his attention draws to Leo beckoning a gesture to follow him. 

Usagi neatly folds the paper bagged fruit into his barrel bag, double checking it carefully sits next to his armor and mask. Carrying around evidence that he was Ronin was a dangerous game; he could always leave it at the storage room, Huseo wouldn't mind, or the abandoned warehouse he's been camping for the past few weeks. But it doesn't give him security.

Strangely enough, he feels oddly safe carrying it around. 

Confused at why Leo stopped walking, Usagi's head tilts and looks over at their next destination, only to immediately pale. What a timing. Conveniently seated next to the food market, what used to be a flashy shop selling the cliché gifts Leo got him, was now replaced by a big 'under renovations' sign, the massive hole alluding to the misfortunate events occurred. By the looks of it, it seems like someone had fallen through the wooden stand. Leo stares at it with a scrunched look. "Looks like someone rough-housed a bit too hard, don't cha'think?"

Usagi hums in agreement. Ah, sweet memories. He sure doesn’t miss being tossed like a ragdoll by the foot ninja before getting slam-dunked into an assortment of fruits, that’s for sure. It happened such a long time ago, but the phantom ache spreads all over his back like he took the hit just yesterday, his subconscious refusing to let go of the fact that he was body slammed into an innocent fruit stall caught in the crossfire.

He shudders that thought. He watches Leo’s attention be captured by the hidden world that laid within the souvenir stall. This one was a little different compared to every other stall. 

Rather being open to the outside world, this stall had an actual wall, door, and decreased the chances of pickpockets. Enough of that. He lets Leo usher his attention into the shop and the hidden world that laid within, head narrowly dodging the various heavy weighted jewelled antiques dangling from the ceiling. With the smell of used cigars and musk oozing out of the loose fitted window frames, and with the rising temperature levels, it did nothing but enhance the combination of scents. Overall, entering such a crowded environment was definitely not in Usagi's top five preferences. 

As if he read his mind, Leo backed away from the stall, but far enough so that they’re browsing the items on sale outside. Usagi feels a contempt breath of air slither through his nostrils. That’s more like it.

All the while Leo’s attempted enthusiastic charm led them to the souvenirs camped by the shop’s outskirts, in which he dramatically gasped and proudly flaunts his new find. “Oh sick. How did I miss this gem!?”

“Miss what?” 

Leo pretends to act natural as he waves a dismissing hand. “You wouldn't understand, Usa. The artist is kinda underground.”

Usagi rolls his eyes as a flat, “Try me,” echoes out of his mouth. 

The vinyl record in question pictured was presumably a human, ginger hair, fair skin, accompanied by a prominent lightning bolt painted across their face, stretching to the left eye. According to Leo, they’re one of the most revolutionary musical artists to ever exist. Usagi just thinks of a random guy. Who happens to be the first human he’s ever seen. 

Did all humans look the same? 

Without even taking into account, Usagi suddenly forgot how much he hated tight spaces. And for whatever reason, he wanted the opposite. He wanted to be closer to Leo, more than ever, listening to him babble about his favourite singer even with his music knowledge limited to Hōgaku. And so did the want for sharing secret laughs and inside jokes; all so he could admire that boyish smile up close. Because within that tiny moment shared, everything just felt right . It could've been the way the blue, pink, and purple lights softly glazed upon them, or the fact that they were huddled together, both shushing each other to not laugh at a certain vinyl cover but failing regardless. Usagi couldn't help but think how things would've gone. 

How things would've looked like if he didn't involuntarily flee his home town, and if Leo had yet fought against the Krang. Would things have been better if those nasty things didn't happen?

He forcefully shakes his head.

Eyes skimming all over, it's hard to notice the many bounty notices pinned beside the damage. Even while the culprit's face is obscured by the blade of the Foot's ninja star, it's obviously one of the many wanted posters' of the Hidden City's latest topic of gossip. Everything else is pretty much still the same: thick font 'wanted dead or alive', the ridiculously large sum idly spaced on the far bottom (mainly to entice money hungry eyes), before the finishing touch of a blurred picture of his alter ego plastered in the dead center, nicely framing his vicious personality. 

His blue masked friend peers over his shoulder, now looking at the same thing. "Gonna be honest, I'm not surprised to hear everyone’s out to get him."

"What do you think of him, Leonardo-san," Usagi questions after a couple beats.

He hopes Leo isn't standing too close behind, less because he kind of stinks from the hot weather (seriously, he feels like he’s being cooked alive. Curse his ancestors for gracing him with thick-furred genes) and more so Leo wouldn't hear the thump thump picking up inside his chest. But he doesn’t hear a reply back. 

At least, one that’s a clear answer.

“Eh. Don’t really care about the guy if I’m being honest,” Leo says without a second thought. And yet, his grip on the grocery bag squeaks from the tight grip. 

Attempting to maintain his unbothered exterior, Leo whips out his phone with his other hand and pretends to busy himself, typing a bunch of letters too fast for Usagi to properly analyze from behind. It doesn’t seem like he’s typing out directions, but rather to someone. “Let’s head out.”

His answer doesn’t exactly reward Usagi’s suspicions. It leaves him wanting to know more, but Usagi thinks the day would end poorly if he did, something he definitely doesn’t want happening, especially after the whole hyena debacle. And mere minutes after ending his shift. So, he hopes that it’s just a Leo thing, and all will be revealed sooner than expected. Whether Leo approves of his unlikely acquaintanceship with his alter ego or not, more poking and prodding around the topic seems to be the only way for Usagi to truly know. But now doesn’t seem like the best timing.

Lagging behind, Usagi tries his best to catch up without overexerting himself. It’s kind of hard juggling a heavy ass bag while trying to get a certain someone’s attention. “Hey, wait up! Where are we off to next anyway, kame?”

The slipped nickname doesn't register with the slider. 

There’s no way for him to see Leo’s face nor to hear what he’s thinking, but the sudden change of walking pace pretty much answers his question. The slider’s head appears to be looking left, right, rapidly. Like he’s searching for something important. And on top of that, it appears that he’s… mumbling? More specifically to someone. Even while Usagi can pick up the barely audible, “quit distracting me” and the, “he’s gonna think I’m weird if you don’t stop bothering me,” coming out of Leo’s mouth like rapid-fire, it’s hard to distinguish whether he’s having a deep conversation with an imaginary someone or himself. He’s willing to bet on the latter. 

So naturally, Usagi chases after him, all in hopes of catching up to him. But all it does is heighten the feelings of unease, tumbling and churning a cluster in his stomach, making him feel queasy. Did I say something offensive? Usagi thinks. 

Crazed for answers, it takes Usagi a couple apologetic shoves to random yokai in his way to keep up with Leo.

“Hey um, are you still mad about the fruit thing? You know I’m not saying sorry to that,” Usagi smiles.

There’s a bit of uncertainty mixed with his joke, and he doesn't quite get why he brought that up, but if it could get Leo's attention, then so be it. But Leo doesn’t seem to hear his calls. Ok, that pretty much confirms his suspicions that something is terribly wrong. Usagi doesn’t know how much longer he can power-walk before the sea of yokai drowning out his attempts all together. 

He's a couple steps behind, when he manages to make out a faint, "Who am I kidding, this is a bad idea. I gotta think of something fast.” 

"Hold on a second," Usagi extends an arm. 

He’s so close. So very close to snagging the sleeve of the other’s blue hoodie. But that all crumbles when a horde of yokai suddenly collide with him, spawning out of nowhere, sending him three steps back.  

How in the? Usagi snaps his head back, looking back at the source of whatever had thrown him off balance, because whoever did must’ve had the strength of a thousand suns. His mouth runs dry. Turns out, it was just two yokais’ with a large build. But unfortunately for him, they’re two yokai adorning formal royal purple suits, along with a tiny earpiece snuggly fitted in each ear, and they’re not dressed like that by coincidence …They’re the same exact ones on a manhunt for him. Usagi immediately looks away, accidentally catching their eyes.

“There’s this really well known place that just opened up after who knows how long, and I think you’ll really dig it-”

“Kame .”

“But I also heard about this cool place Tio's usuals' won't stop yapping about..."

“Leonardo-san.”

“A-and we could check out this other place that sells these amazing–”

“Leo!”

They both stop walking. To his relief, the slider stops his train of thought and turns his head to Usagi. Bewilderment is written across his face. 

“... You’ve never called me that.”

Usagi doesn’t mind silence. Actually, he used to hate it. It was always a red herring for something ominous. But hey, he always manages to find something stupidly plausible that contradicts his entire judgement, and it all starts with the nonsense stringing out of his turtle friend. 

The tension is thick, thick enough that Usagi deems it as sliceable, but necessary.

He gives Leo an understanding look, before taking the opportunity to speak. “Are you alright?” Usagi asks.

A nervous laugh snakes out of Leo. His fingers pick under the remaining dirt snuck underneath. "Why wouldn’t I be?” Leo slowly looks at Usagi, hoping that he has his same old stoic resting face. He’s wrong. It’s littered with worry and concern not for whether his day will be ruined by a single mishap, but for his friend’s well-being; it sends him a small wave of shame, knowing Usagi has to see him like this.

“Are you feeling alright at the moment?” Usagi reiterates, not believing Leo’s statement the slightest. He doesn’t want to come off as pushy, but it’s better to tackle the problem itself than walk around eggshells.

“I just.”

Yokai travel between them, slithering between and past them like fish in a maze. The current is thick and turbulent and keeps crashing against them, making Usagi afraid of losing Leo.

“Sorry, dunno what’s gotten into me.” Leo gives those pensive eyes a sad look. He makes the first move to step closer to Usagi, slowly closing the divided gap between them. “I thought I was helping,” Leo dejects. "Or, at least I thought I did."

Usagi makes the next steps forward to Leo. He doesn’t move to hold his hand, to soothe away his worries. Not yet. Trying to not appear overly concerned for the sudden shift in attitude, Usagi lets go of his death grip on his bag strap, letting it hang, now appearing relaxed.

He could think of a thousand different scenarios that are significantly better to have this conversation - including but not limited to a coincidental alleyway on their left, a park bench, a wishing fountain. But unconventional so happens to run in Leo’s veins. Then again, it would be even more un-Leo like for Leo to be organized and less of a scatterbrain. Not that it’s ever really bothered him. He quite likes that about him. 

Plus, he figured that Leo would be more comfortable not hearing his voice crack and stutter. Not irritated but curious, Usagi makes the first move to ask a simple, "What’s up?”

Leo prepares himself.

“I had this idea planned for today. Had it for a pretty long time, actually. Right after I gave you the gifts: it was you and me, hanging out at these, these dope looking buildings and places at an earlier time without so many yokai lounging around, but that doesn't matter. And we were eating these delicious looking greasy food, and bought these overly expensive souvenirs that were definitely a scam, but you wouldn’t know they were," the slider rambles.

The more he explains, the more Usagi suspects that there’s something bigger picture to his well crafted overconfidence. "And everything was perfect," Leo whispers the last bit. 

Unsure what to say, all Usagi could do was weakly flex his fingers forward and open his mouth. Thankfully, Leo beats him to it.

“But then I see these stalls I’ve never seen before and it’s so confusing, and it’s even more with the rise of humans doing whatever business around here. Like, ever heard of personal space? The route I usually take has changed, and the vibe just doesn’t hit the same, man. This isn’t the Hidden City I grew up from. I didn’t think six months after… yknow , would make changes so fast,” Leo clarifies, dodging from the lingering gaze of passers-by. 

“I used to tell myself that things are still the same, that everything’s fine,” Leo bites his lip. He looks like he wants to say more, but the words refuse to roll out.

But it’s not, Usagi fills in the gaps. 

“But convincing myself can only do so much. And I know it sounds stupid, but to buy me more time, I went to the only place I knew didn’t change much-”

“Which was the fruit and souvenir market stalls,” Usagi snaps his fingers.

Leo nods defeatedly. 

He wanted to make my day better than his, despite not knowing his way around , Usagi makes the shocking realization. It’s so thoughtful and sweet, but the sickening drop in his stomach prevents him from doing so. It should be the other way around. And Usagi was going to ensure it stays like that. Finally, he can set his plan into fruition. 

So, now he has to think carefully. Leo may be the face man, but just because he appears relatively normal (with a hint of tiredness) doesn’t mean he feels like that, let alone be emotionally inclined to talk about his feelings. Afterall, it took him several near death experiences for him to open up to Ronin. One wrong word and it'll all be over.

"Maybe we don't have to do all of that."

Leo looks at him incredulously. "Um, yeah we do? This is your golden ticket to exploring the place. To see places you'll only get once in a life-time. 'Cause," Leo sighs. "What kind of tour guide am I, if I can't even show you one of the most noteworthy places? To taste the most well known New York pizza? I don't know if you'll still be here for a round two..."

"And I don't think I can visit all those amazing places you had in mind," Usagi interrupts. He already knows what the slider’s about to say, and he doesn't confirm nor deny his suspicions when Usagi’s answer will only sour the mood. The other being Leo. 

Leo tilts his head.

"I don't get it. Won’t today just be a bust?"

“There doesn’t have to be a purpose. No plans and no strategies.”

“But-”

"What we can do, is have fun. I think that's better than chasing around fancy places you have no idea are," Usagi reasons. 

It’s kind of hypocritical for him to say when that’s the mentality he was raised with; Karasu-Tengu’s training has yet left his mind, unlike the way he left her (defenseless while he ran away like the coward he is). But he makes today an expectation. "And just because you’re unfamiliar with your surroundings, doesn’t mean you have to stop being my tour guide. You can still tell me small facts while we walk, like you do with Jupiter Jim and that one Ariana whatever her name is scandal. Whatever information that spews out of your mouth, it’ll make me… content, either way.”

"Huh," Leo notes. "Never thought of it like that." 

Now with the main problem resolved, Leo eagerly makes a move to grab Usagi’s gloved hand, wanting to make a start at exploring everywhere. But that doesn’t happen like how he imagined. Just like he grazed that white furred hand unprompted, Usagi snatches it back in lightning speed and presses close to his chest, as if he touched something hot, earning a small noise of surprise from the both of them but for different reasons. 

Usagi looks at him apologetically. “I'm still new to this friend's thing,” then makes a move to hold Leo’s hand as gently as he physically can, an apology for the minor freakout, using his ungloved hand instead. 

It fits perfectly. His overly warm hand collides with Leo’s icy touch, pirouetting and twirling around each other before melting into a pool of warmth that feels just right . Those green scales that were once cold to the touch, suddenly feel warmer once Usagi links their fingers together. 

Leo looks away for a couple seconds, seemingly interested in anything but Usagi, unknowingly flaunting the dark red shade creeping on his nape. 

 “So, let’s take it slow?” 

“Huh? O-Oh yeah. Yeah. For sure.”

Though, now that Usagi's thinking about it, it does sound like it has different implications. Leo’s staring at him longer than he should’ve and he’s no better, and it’s silly how it pains him to tear his head away. It shouldn’t even be remotely challenging.

Leo sinks his other hand on his hip. “The Ariana Grande lore is irresistible, you uncultured heathen. Get with the program.”

“My point still stands.”

“... And did you just compliment me? At the end of your monologuing?” Leo sings out.

Usagi tries to let go and storm away from that irksome confidence restored from the slider, but his efforts are futile. The iron grip is locked in and doesn’t plan on letting go anytime soon. Just his luck. “My point no longer stands.”

"Hey now, don’t act like you hate me when you’ve come this far. Our friendship level stats are almost maxed out.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“But you love it at the same time.”

Wandering with a distance closed in by their entwined hands, the irate sun shuns its daggering rays and forces them to run for shade. The humidity feels a twinge beyond overwhelming, and the heat waves would make anyone second guess the accuracy of their vision. And with the swarm of yokai reducing from the heat, at least something good comes out. In a way, it helps cast a clear path for places the duo could go.

Clear enough for those pair of yokai to observe from a careful distance. Unbeknownst to anyone, the eyes from the purple pair trace over the blue duo. A wanted poster crumbles beneath one of their hands.

-

Several unread messages from Lesser Twin👾🐢

Lesser Twin 👾🐢 (12:25pm): You owe me. Big time.

Lesser Twin 👾🐢(12:25pm): This is the last time I cover your ass, our darling youngest brother almost found out why you’re actually out. 

Lesser Twin 👾🐢(12:30pm): Dare I assume you've been sneaking out more often than necessary? Speaking of which, you might as well confess the real reason why you haven’t been sleeping well, let alone for the past month. Don't even lie to me, you're speaking to the tech guy here. We both know it’s not just because of insomnia. 

Lesser Twin 👾🐢 (12:35pm): If I noticed your patterns, don’t think everyone else slowly will. You can’t keep hiding and think no one will notice, because you best pray for when April comes back from her vacation.

Lesser Twin 👾🐢 (12:36pm): I’m expecting a 4 paged hard copy essay explaining your behavior. In size 12, font Times New Roman, stapled from the corner, finalized with a bibliography. Pictures are compulsory.

Lesser Twin 👾🐢 (12:38pm): But admittedly, yes. We need to talk once you get back. And defeated sigh, yes, I'm aware I sound like Raph.

Lesser Twin 👾🐢 (12:41pm): Even for a few minutes. Then we’ll return to our overdue CoryxKenshin jumpscare compilation marathon, and I’ll stay up with you, even if it means Raph'll hounds us. Hypothetically speaking. 

Lesser Twin 👾🐢 (12:52pm): Just. Talk to someone.

Lesser Twin 👾🐢 (12:57pm): Talk to me.

Lesser Twin 👾🐢(13:25pm): Please.

-

“Dude dude dude!”

“What?”

“You gotta check out those sick moves! Bro is cooking up a storm??”

Angling his head to view the source causing Leo’s uncontained squeals, Usagi can understand why he’s so mesmerised. Standing on his toes, he makes out a street performer swinging around some insanely difficult tricks with a flashy red yoyo, the circling crowd equally entranced as he was. If he didn’t know any better, he’d assume that the yoyo was an entire being itself with the way it moved, the fluidity of the spins and spirals. 

Finishing up the choreographed routine, they weren’t even given a chance to bow before an uproar of cheers tore through the air. 

“Like, how cool is that? You can’t even see the yoyo spin.”

“Responsive yoyo,” Usagi corrects. 

Leo bumps against Usagi’s shoulder. “Oh yeah? Since you’re such an expert, why don’t you show them who’s boss?”

“No thanks. Used to play with it all the time, day and night, for days and months. It got to the point when Auntie would literally confiscate it because I wasn’t farming enough crops. But that was a long time ago. My previous job didn’t pay me much, so I had to save up money to replace it whenever it did break. Eventually, I just, kind of gave up on it all together,” Usagi says. He’s not aware of how much he’s oversharing. And yet, he doesn’t need to look to know Leo’s making fun of how he’s disgustingly hyper fixated with yo-yos’. “And even if I do try it out, my skills compared to them? I’d rather bury myself alive.”

“I don’t see your name on any tombstones.”

The performer’s booming voice calls out for any challengers, flickering an ear at the mutters. No one utters a word. Facing Usagi, a sly smile stretches on Leo’s face. He feels his hands become sweaty. Usagi can’t help but have a bad feeling about this.

He feels himself become dragged towards the centre. Is he doing what Usagi thinks he’s about to do? Oh god, he really is. 

“Sure, why not.”

“Whu- Leo! I didn’t agree to this!” Usagi protests. He tries to yank and tear away from Leo’s iron grip. Nothing works. So for the time being, he momentarily accepts his defeat and lets himself be dragged into whatever hijinks Leo managed to trap himself in.

“This is literally your moment to shine. What better time is there to beat the one right now?”

“I’m going to make a fool out of us.”

“Then that’s okay,” Leo reassures. “Because at least we can look stupid together. Isn’t that better?”

“You have a terrible way of thinking positively,” Usagi slumps his shoulders. Welp. Might as well say his prayers. A small oft breaks out of the street performer’s endless search for a formidable opponent. The feline snorts. And Usagi has to admit, it’s kind of entertaining watching two scrawny teens scramble their way to face off someone double their age and physical strength. If he wasn’t dying on the inside.

“Two challengers? How interesting. Normally, I wouldn’t allow that, but,” their eyes scan Usagi’s bony arms and Leo’s thin stature. Usagi feels his eyes narrow. Their opponent cracks their neck menacingly, rolling their back, but he doesn’t feel the least bit scared. They rummage in their bag and throw out two respective yo-yos. “I think I can make today an exception.”

Usagi catches it without hesitation. 

Normally, he would be questioning the absurdity of, well, everything. The fact that he’s competing in a yo-yo battle, in broad daylight, semi willingly, or how he’s competing said battle with someone officially declared as his friend just a few weeks prior. But thought shoots in and out of his ear. He has a match to win.

“All you lot haf’ta do is copy me. Two strikes and you’re out. Should be straight forward enough,” they instruct. “That is, if you can keep up.”

“Oh they’re so asking for it now,” Leo lightly jogs on his spot. He readies himself. “Ready, Usa?”

“Thought I told you to stop calling me that,” he says. 

However, the usual bitter bite isn’t there, but rather replaced by a fond reminder. As expected, the cat yokai demonstrates a basic trick, finishing with a smug smile after hearing the closely followed loud applause. 

Queued for their turn, Usagi manages to carry out the simple trick without fail. Leo does the same.

And that’s how it went on for the past few rounds. Everything went smoothly as such, but Usagi should’ve guessed that things were only getting tougher. The damn heat was making his brain fog.

Upon arriving on the eighth round (Usagi genuinely lost track, he doesn’t have the slightest clue), the street performer unleashes a series of physically impossible tricks, letting the gyrate across their clawed fingertips, earning a loud applause. A wickedly confident smile ingrains on their face. 

“Man, what the hell,” Leo dejects.

Aside from struggling to remember certain moves, Usagi still manages to land it. Leo, on the other hand, seems to be struggling to appear like he’s gotten everything under control, sticking his tongue out while a thin layer of sweat glistens under the sunlight. He manages to string out one or two tricks before the string itself bundles his hands together, rendering him useless for the time being. 

With all the booing and general disappointment emitting from the crowd, it doesn’t really affect him, but it does suddenly give Usagi a wake up call to their current situation. Why was he such a fool to agree to this? They shouldn’t be out in the frist place. He should even be goofing around when he’s got other things to worry about. And maybe, he shouldn’t even having fun in the first place-

“Hey.”

Something cold lands on his unmoving hand. Usagi looks away from the crowd.

“I know I want us to have fun, but you know we don’t have to do this, yeah?”

Usagi glances at their egocentric opponent, watching as the street performer hypes themself up by the crowd’s positive engagement. He shakes his head. “I’m fine. Let’s finish them off. Plus, I can’t wait to see that defeated look once we win,” Usagi smiles. 

He cups his mouth against Leo’s ear, whispering his plan. The slider nods his head in agreement. “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Leo laughs. 

“Finally admit your defeat?” The feline jests.

They nod to each other. The crowd watches Leo back away, letting Usagi do the hard work first. The rabbit lets the yoyo drop while spinning, but not long before he pulls it up and lets it bounce and swirl around his hands, imitating a spider weaving a web. His methodical spinning comes to a stop when he suddenly holds the yoyo and string on opposite ends, forming a straight line, allowing Leo to throw his forward. 

The neon blue disks clash with the Usagi’s muted red nylon string, creating an illusion of purple. Leo grunts as he pulls the rabbit, forcing him to circle around like the personified version of his red trinket. It’s impressive how durable the string itself is. Having Usagi no longer spinning (and on the verge of throwing up) and by Leo’s side, the strings of their respective yoyos have tied into one, giving him the opportunity to effortlessly lace the strings on the unnaturally fast disks on both the duo’s thumbs. A collective gasp shows interest in the formed helix shape.

“Hey! That’s cheating!”

“Boo hoo. Face it; you lost, we won. Even if we didn’t copy whatever you did, the audience literally loves us, dude,” Leo stands tall. His eye contact remains unwavering. “And how are you even mad when those are your own rules?”

There’s so many things happening at once. Like how he can hear the loud chirps from neighbouring cacadas join the loud victorious cheers of everyone but the feline. He can hear the crowd bellow out loud and shrill and deep shouts nearing deafening ranges, and how tempting it is to look back and take in that proud feeling. Yet, despite it all, he’s got his eyes on Leo. 

Usagi feels Leo latch onto his hand, raising it up for all to see the champions that defeated a supposed professional.

He doesn’t mean to. But it’s just the way he watches him break out into a triumphant smile, that tickles Usagi’s brain in a funny way. Noticing how he always looks his best regardless of the sweat. Adoring how the scorching summer heat enhances his stripes. 

They’re both breathing out heavily, their adrenaline rush slowly down.

We did it?

We did it, Usagi imagines Leo replying.

His hand squeezes the red yoyo. The wear of paint and physical scratches insinuate that it was from new, but as long as it was functioning well, Usagi wasn’t going to have any problems. Whatever the prize is, Usagi doesn’t care. He’s taking this with him whether the cat yokai likes it or not. Looks like another trinket’s joining his inventory.

“I thought you said you sucked at yoyos,” Leo breaks the silence between them. Every word spoken needed an extra breath taken, but that’s fair enough, considering the both of them created a makeshift tornado purely out of yo-yoing and a bad impulse.

“Me too,” Usagi admits.

“Well, that clears a lot of things,” Leo confirms. “I know what you are.”

The wanted samurai, Usagi pales.

“The yo-yo master, of course.”

Usagi’s brows furrow.

“I’m not even good at yo-yos, I just… coincidentally like them.”

“I wanna be a yoyo man, make me a yo-yo man," Leo ignores his comment completely, switching to his narrating voice. Usagi doesn’t bother to answer the slider, opting to drag him away from the crowd instead, followed by Leo tossing away his blue trinket. He feels a thumb make soothing circle motion on his hand. "But the yoyo master didn’t answer. He just kept on yo-ing.”

-

“Do you even know where we’re going?” Leo looks at him weirdly. 

He still has that frown ingrained on his face. Looks like Usagi will need to try harder. “Of course I know. I just uh, was hoping we’d go ‘along with the flow’," Usagi white-lies. But if he were to be precise, the lie and white lie ratio is substantially unequal.

Truth be told, he had no clue where he was going or what he was doing. And honestly, he was more hoping that he would buy himself more time to think about any interesting places. But he has no clue, and he doesn’t want to ruin the surprise. All he was doing was crossing his unoccupied fingers and hoping for the best.

Taking in Usagi’s word of advice, Leo follows but not without looking at him twice for assurance. The both of them keep walking around until Usagi feels his hand tugged back. He looks back to find Leo’s face sunken into what seems to be… a bundle of flowers?

As someone normally would, Leo spits out the rosy petals with a bitter expression. 

“ Bleh! Who even places bouquets in that spot!? Usa, you have no idea how close I am to pulling a Karen. This close,” Leo rants. His hand forms a pinched gesture, space in between indicating how much patience he’s got left in him. His fingers are touching. “The flowers don’t even look that good- oh nevermind yeah it’s kinda pretty. BUT NOT THAT I CARE OR ANYTHING,” Leo rants.

But Usagi can’t hear the rest of Leo’s lengthy prattle. Or if he says anything more. Not when he’s too busy laughing his ass off, his hand latched onto his stomach and his back hunched forward, to the point where tears start to spring at the corners of his eyes. His mellow, contagious laughter punctured the warm atmosphere, and soon Leo was laughing alongside him, the earlier incident forgotten.

Opening his eyes, he notices two things. 

One, the endless blue above has not a cloud in sight. And two, the way Leo no longer has a begrudging look and a mouthful of flowers, but something softer and tender in his eyes, like he’s staring at something so precious and he doesn’t want the moment to end. Usagi doesn’t want it to either.

Cherry picking, he twirls the flower in his hands. He proposes the flower before Usagi. By the looks of it, the dainty purple petals and honey yellow pollen are unfamiliar to Leo. Unfortunately for Usagi, he’s seen them in Neo Edo far too many times. They’re not uncommon. He’s seen them growing by the yokai hunting agency he used to work at, by the minka shared with Chizu and co. Near the house he lived with his aunt. Whenever was assigned to harvest the daily crops, he would always mentally prepare himself in case he heard that pitched whistle, that god awful whistle, singing to a childish lullaby during his minor food breaks.

The careful snip accompanying him and the warbotto’s dense crkk and clank. 

By the time the sun slipped into a deep slumber, he would finish sending off the woven baskets of wheat and everything else to the markets, rewarded by a just-enough-amount to salvage a week's worth of food and a bundle of neatly tied purple flowers. And he would only take the bag of coins, glaring at the person responsible for the flowers. She’s a calico feline and she’s only eight, but thirteen year old Usagi didn’t care enough to register that fact that his sister had intentions differing from annoying him. Because those flowers were snipped by the hands of someone he despises the most. Despised the most. And he hates that he let himself think like that.

Reading the room, the slider takes one long look at Usagi’s pressed mouth and quickly flings the flower elsewhere, snatching a flower nearby. A rose, rather. It has this deep scarlet shade rivaling his eyes, and some petals are crooked from previous mishandling. Usagi feels the teal bandana tying his ears together, become sandwiched by something prickly. Leo kneels on his good knee and snags Usagi’s hand. “For you, my good sir,” Leo purrs. Lowering his head, he plants a small kiss.

"Oh my, Leo? I didn't take you for a gentleman," Usagi fakes a flustered look. But then he remembers how hard it is for him to do that on command.

“You shouldn’t have. Really.”

The sound of a throat clears. At the same time, the both of them snap their heads to look at the source, wide eyes and gaping mouths imitating a deer in headlights.

"You know that wasn't for free, right?" The florist quirks a brow. His multiple eyes blink slowly in a very unconvinced manner. Clearly, he’s unimpressed by Leo's lack of self-respect.

Leo thoughtfully nods. "Yeah, of course I knew that. We knew that. Let me just get my wallet- OHMYGOD WHAT IS THAT."

Following the direction of his finger, he searches for what he's referring to. No matter how high, how low, or how much he squints, he can't seem to find it. He turns around to further interrogate them. The blue duo are nowhere to be found.

"Son of a-"

_

They’ve been roaming for a while now, excluding the occasional stops in the shade, which were more for Usagi’s sake but he won’t admit it to boost the latter’s satisfaction when. But to be fair, an hour alone walking in the pure pits of hell is already pretty impressive by Usagi’s standards.

Noticing Usagi hold his gaze at a certain stall, Leo stops in his tracks. 

“Something caught your eye?”

“Yes, actually,” Usagi confirms.

Without much thought, Usagi takes the lead and drags the both of them to their next stop. Unlike the others, this particular stall is the most distinct in terms of cultural aspects - oval lanterns guarding the insides remain dead still from the lack of wind, surrounding headless mannequins decorated with floral kimonos. Though, the vibrant pink and purples seem to consume the muted blue and blacks. The strong incense swimming around reminds him of sandalwood and moss. 

He lets his eyes gaze upon one of the kimonos fitted on a mannequin; obscenely pink with orange hues, patterned with cherry blossom petals, tied with the finishing touch of a satin ribbon.

A tug finds its way on his lips. It feels almost nostalgic in a way. He doesn’t remember the last time he visited one. Not that he even needed to in the first place, seeing that he’s not exactly the target audience. But the times he does remember were all involuntary, all by the peer pressure from a fellow kitsune and cat, one that doesn’t mind girly things and one that down right hates it, forcing him to try the most frilliest of kimonos for undisclosed purposes. All swallowing giggles at how the pink bows clipped onto his fur enhanced his eternal frown. He knew they wouldn’t dare buy something so hideous, but he played along and let them embarrass the hell out of him. 

Usagi forces his attention on Leo instead. It’s hard to reminisce about the past with his constant need to survive inside this brand new city (he saves those for unnaturally quiet nights). 

“What’s the thing behind her?”

Happy to hear Leo’s interest in his culture, Usagi clears his throat. “Byōbu. It’s a traditional folding screen that’s used for privacy reasons. Or in this case, to make the stall look nice,” he explains, pointing at it with his palm.

“Wow, I feel so smart already. Usa, you gotta stop teaching me Japanese phrases, or else my brain’s gonna explode.”

“As if there were any to begin with,” Usagi snorts. He swats down Leo’s pointed finger.

“Yeowchh!”

“Don’t do that, it’s rude.”

“You not even giving me a warning, is ruder.”

“That’s not a word.”

“It is now,” Leo pouts. He nurses the lingering ache on his hand. “I wasn’t even pointing at her!”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s just Japanese etiquette.”

His ears twitch at the sound of a muttered, “fine,” as he makes his way closer to the stall. It’s kind of entertaining to see that side of him. Exceeding his expectations, the pink kimono feels absolutely divine. Soft and silky smooth. 

“I had no idea they sell these outside of Neo Edo,” he murmurs. 

“Well, you’d be surprised.” The blue mask tails sway to Leo’s tilting head. “There’s a ton of Japanese stuff around here.”

“And you still barely know Japanese,” Usagi deadpans.

“Would it kill you to be nicer?”

A pair of geta sandals clicking joins their playful banter. Usagi turns his head to see the source of the noise, only to meet face to face with the one presumed to be the shop owner - a rabbit yokai. Her beige fur appears to be neatly parted to the side, bringing out the red hair pin tucking her floppy ears and lipstick shade. The thick coat of makeup makes it hard to tell how old she really is.

“Welcome! Is there anything I can help you two with?”

“Uh,” Usagi scratches his neck. All his rehearsed lines suddenly leave his brain. “Nothing really.”

“What exactly do you sell?” Leo chimes in.

Anyone with an eye can tell how blatantly obvious the answer would be, but Usagi honestly feels a little grateful for the save. Thankfully, the shop owner doesn’t really mind, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say her smile widened. 

Usagi doesn’t know what to do with that information, but it makes his grip tighten.

“This stall sells a range of traditional Japanese items! If you’re looking for a specific clothing piece, then please search on my left. These decorative items on my right encompass many forms, including hair pins, barrettes, and flowers,” she expounds. Her hands guide to the accessory category, picking up a hair clip as an example. It's simple and nothing special compared to the others, but the adorned purple flowers make up for it. Usagi acts like he's interested elsewhere while Leo keeps the conversation flowing and away from him, distracting everyone and himself from the heaviness weighing inside his chest. Hana always liked kosumosu.

Pausing her train of thought, her hazel eyes trail to the locked hold connecting the blue duo. The shop owner looks up with a hand covering her small smile. Usagi feels his mouth twitch. “But if you’re looking for something like a matching yukata set, you both are in luck! The couple's discount is still ongoing, but only until the end of this month.”

Maybe she knew what she’s doing, maybe she just wanted to try her luck at striking an extra couple dollars, but Usagi freezes. Utterly spellbound by the words that left her mouth.

Couple? Please.

It’d be laughable to even consider that possibility. Ludicrous even. Only recently he’s gotten comfortable to even let Leo nudge him, and it probably didn’t even mean much to the slider. But it makes him hold onto that thought. He definitely doesn’t like Leo keeping his thoughts to himself or doing anything reckless.

… But he also doesn’t mind bickering with him over the smallest things. He doesn’t mind the awkward silences shared after long conversations, only to be thawed into momentary comfort. He doesn’t mind the sneaky glances he gets when Leo thinks he isn’t watching. And he most definitely doesn’t mind Leo telling him the worst pickup lines during the most randomest of times, ones that are so bad that he finds himself hiding his laughter and pretending that he hates it when that’s the complete opposite.

Because if that means he can watch Leo shine a smile so bright, so contagious, so Leo. Then he wouldn’t mind doing it all over again. 

He watches an equally embarrassed Leo stammer his way to deny. The overlapping tree granting them both shade, fortunately shelters the growing flush on his friend’s face. But for someone allocated as the face man, Leo seems to be doing an awful job at defending the ‘more than just friends’ allegations. At least he’s drawing the shop keeper’s attention away from him. 

Cupping his cheek, Usagi rummages his mind to think of reasonable explanations as to why his face feels hotter than the blazing sun itself.

Chapter Text

“Number nineteen! One large box of churros with extra hot fudge!”

Eagerly, Leo rushes to the counter of the vendor truck, hastily rummaging his hoodie pocket before extending a hand out. The notes lie scattered, twisted, and crumbled in unimaginable ways and mysteriously wet along the edges. Still, the employee doesn’t care, or probably is too tired to even register the pathetic state of it, and seizes it before handing the food to Leo because hey, money is money.

Now playing hot potato with the blazing hot box (and is that fire around the edges-), he could only withstand the heat before letting gravity do the rest. Which would be really awful. He really hopes worst doesn’t come to worst and he'll end up going home early with a near empty wallet and a stomach deprived of that delicious cinnamon dough stick because wow was the food ridiculously expensive for something so little. Talk about ten dollars down the drain. Thankfully, he hears a pair of soft furred footsteps scurry to his direction. Leo visibly relaxes.

“Sorry, my bandana came loose,” Usagi sheepishly apologizes. His furred palm fixes the rose petals nestled between the teal fabric.

He snags the cardboard box from Leo’s grasp, oblivious of the attempted warnings and goes on about what he was doing while waiting. Dozing off, watching a kid fall and eat dirt. The usual. And while Leo is extremely grateful for the coolness returning back to his palms, and any feeling in general, he’s far more concerned about another thing. He may only know the base levels of yokai biology from that second handed book Pops scavenged in the junk yard for, and even less of mammals.

But he’s pretty sure casually holding something screaming first degree inducing burns isn’t normal. It takes him a while to stop incredulously gaping at how Usagi’s palms don't burn form the touch of it. That's so strange. And a matter of fact, he doesn’t even register the heat.  

Yokai from Neo Edo must be built different, Leo rationalizes, switching between looking focused in Usagi's rambles and eyeing the steam hissing out of the box. Then again, Usagi rambling? Free willingly? That was also very out of the blue. No pun intended.

Noticing Leo's eyes unmoving from his fast paced mouth, sign he was absorbed in the conversation, Usagi forceful coughs to stops himself mid-sentence. The tails of the rabbit's ears shamefully droop. In an attempt to save himself from further embarrassment, Usagi stretches his head out, looking all around their surroundings. Still, Leo can't help but frown a bit. He wasn't sure why he stopped talking. Even when he wasn't putting in his undivided, a hundred percent focus - which happens more often than not, but it's not like he was doing it on purpose - that didn't mean he loathed hearing Usagi talk.

“Do you have any ideas on where to eat?” Usagi asks.

“Yeah, definitely can’t eat while standing up,” Leo agrees to no one in particular. 

The park itself was pretty decent. On most days, that is. Typically bringing in a cozy vibe from the several herds of tall trees washing down maple leaves, and usually accompanied by the usual ‘any creature with a dog like semblance’ walkers sauntering on the footpaths. But like everything that has happened today, it seems like nothing could go right.

He immediately rushes to Usagi's side, feeling that soft white fur tickle his neck, as he forcefully made way for the oncoming dash of younger yokai. "Yeesh, talk about peaceful much," Leo stretches his mouth downwards. Someone ought to out a leash on those kids before they become an unstoppable force. "I mean, we could always try scavenging for benches? Or on the grass? Can’t promise we won’t be bombarded with someone else, though.”

Usagi recoiled at that suggestion. Opting to look away from the park dominated by unsupervised children causing chaos and whatever creature preyed on their food, he presses his lips together. Bad idea, right. Got it. Clearly, he doesn’t seem too enticed by that suggestion.

The heel of Leo's leg bounces on autopilot.

Where exactly could they go? It’s not like they have much of an option left; it’s either eternally hunting for places to peacefully sit without any distractions, or stand and suffer. But then a bright idea clicks inside his head. He quickly ushers Usagi to follow him.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Nah, it’ll ruin the surprise if I do."

"Then don't blame me if I'm skeptical of your definition of surprises."

"Trust me, you'll love it."

Usagi scoffs, clearly not believing a single reassurance that comes out of Leo, but zips his mouth shut anyways and throws away the key while he's at it. The both of them walk for a short while. Eventually, the directions Leo leads to is inside a small alleyway, arriving after a couple mis-turns. And stationed right in front, a metal ladder idly sits behind a thin layer of rust, taking them to their final destination. Some of the hinges are a bit loose, leaving an eerie squeak when Leo hoists himself up.

From behind, he hears Usagi uncomfortably shuffle and Leo can’t help but sympathize. He totally gets him. Heights is reserved on the very top of things he doesn’t like. It doesn't make him feel proud saying he's experienced several near death experiences with the touchy subject, even if it'll earn him an impressed look and a compliment to his bravery. Three, as a matter of fact, now being the fourth.

He looks up at how high it is, closes his eyes and grips onto the handle for dear life. It's a little embarrassing to say how grateful he feels hearing another pair of hands clutch onto the handles, the shaky tremble of the ladder not only caused by Leo. At least he’s not going up alone.

“I know a spot.”

-

Sometime after powerwalking past that painfully familiar spiked pipe, stepping over an unnatural amount of trashed office junk, and across flimsy planks of wood acting as a bridge between buildings, did they finally arrive.

But Leo can understand if Usagi doesn’t believe him. The alleged spot in question was well… incredibly questionable. Worrying at best. Out of every other rooftop, this was the only one that was spared from random scraps and an absurd amount of graffiti littering every inch of space. Big ones, cursive ones, colorful ones. On the very corner, he notes a tangerine orange 'M' sprayed among others. Not that that he recognized it, and most definitely not because he knew who did it; he just thought it looked neat. Essentially, this specific place was perfect to just chill out and do whatever. But that's not the best part.

Leo lets out his second victorious shout of the day, shooting his arms above his head and a wide smile smeared all over his face. He gleefully turns to his obviously tired friend tailing behind.

“Was a race necessary?” Usagi huffed. 

“Absolutely,” Leo draws out the last syllable. “History repeats itself. The turtle always wins the race.”

Letting his intrusive thoughts win, Leo causally bops Usagi’s button nose. It’s squishy, soft, and everything he expected it to be. Leo unabashedly stretches his smile. Usagi’s muzzle scrunches, hands unfortunately too full to cover his raging flush. Beads of sweat trickle down his forehead at lightning speed. As an attempt to get back at him, Usagi tries to swat that smug look off Leo’s face, brows digging past his eyes at pouring all his focus at landing a hit. He misses by a mile. It’s pathetic to watch, but entertaining at best. 

Intentionally blocking the surprise, Leo stands behind the bright beacon of light, welcoming the rays of heat dancing past his hoodie and onto his scales etched with marred scars.

“How does it feel to be second placed?”

Usagi scoffs at the obvious. “You’re a liar and a cheat. You knew I was at a disadvantage.”

“Were you, now?”

Not letting the latter refute, he does Usagi’s aching shoulder a solid and slings the barrel bag over his shoulder. Leo winces at the weight of it, pitying the way the threads connecting the strap and bag threaten to snap from the sheer heaviness. He really wasn’t kidding. What’s so important that he simply couldn’t take out a couple things then and there? Honestly, Leo wouldn’t be remotely surprised if Usagi was carrying all his belongings in there, because the weight of it would put Raph’s dumbbells to shame. 

Now deprived of the weight, Usagi snaps out of it and chases after the culprit of his robbed bag. Pieces of soft fruit and something wooden stir in the bag.

“Leo! This isn’t funny. Give it back,” Usagi whines. 

It kind of is, actually. It’s not until Leo steps away that the mini chase stops, rendering Usagi too speechless to utter anything else. And rightfully so. “To me.”

“See? Told ya I knew a spot.”

It’s hard not to look away. From afar, the duo watches as the beaming ball of heat slowly sinks beyond the horizon of abstract shaped buildings. The waves of pink and orange and yellow overlap, washing away the previous colors with another even more mesmerizing. Making him feel all kinds of tingly and warm. Snickering, he doesn’t bother hiding his amusement at Usagi’s awe, too caught up in snapshotting the moment in his head to banter. If this was how Usagi reacted to an artificial sunset, then Leo couldn't wait to see his friend's reaction at an actual one in New York. Now that's the real deal.

Faint rustling finally snaps Usagi out of his trance, leaving his eyes to confirm that Leo was the cause. Kicking his feet up to sit cross-legged, Leo pats down the vacant seat beside him and the bag. Usagi doesn’t need to be told twice. 

The slider tentatively waits for Usagi to slowly step over the railing, cautiously taking a seat beside him on the ledge, letting his legs swing. Usagi hastily opens the box, unfastened to reveal the drooling sight of freshly fried churros drizzled with piping thick, hot chocolate.

A furred hand snatches a piece Leo preyed upon.

Flabbergasted, he makes sure to look offended, clearing his throat so the rabbit would know how offended he was. Usagi doesn’t look the least bit bother. If he were to squint, he would’ve seen the way Usagi smirked. 

“ What- I was gonna eat that!”

He takes an extra long time finishing his piece, relishing in the glare Leo sent him. “Maybe you should’ve got to it faster,” Usagi answers.

Rolling his eyes, he ignores the comment with a muttered, “whatever”, and grabs his portion. One bite and a satisfying hum strings out of his mouth. Instantly, he feels his shoulders slouch from the nostalgic warmth and overwhelming sweetness invading his taste buds, closing his eyes and deeply sighing at the gooey fudgy texture bathing in his mouth.

He doesn’t even have to look to see the other’s reaction.

“That good, huh?”

Leo could hear the contempt sigh escaping Usagi’s mouth, not longer before he mutters, “shut up and let me enjoy this in peace.”

“I would, but something’s missing, and it’s killing the vibe.”

“... So you want it sweeter?” Usagi says with uncertainty. A horrified look paints over his resting bored look, lips curled upwards along with a scrunched muzzle. It's so funny how it changes within a split second; so hilarious that a sharp pft slips past Leo's mouth.

“Precisely.”

“ Whu- What are you? A psychopath??”

“Even worse.”

Clasping his hands together, Usagi takes in a deep breath of air, pointing his pressed hand towards the slider. Leo can't get enough of his reaction. “I’m saying this in the nicest way possible, but you’re not living past thirty if you keep this up," Usagi warns. Regardless, he’s digging into the pockets of his parachute pants before fishing out a singular small sauce packet. Then another more. In disbelief, Leo bites down a laugh. “No way you coincidentally have that on you.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Usagi confirms. He rips open the sugary sauce open and lets the syrup weave with the chocolate. “I carry them around me, and it happens more often than you may think. It adds character to my personality.”

“Clearly, you need more if you want people looking past that bitter attitude of yours.”

Choosing to ignore him, Usagi shoves Leo’s unfinished stick before munching on his respective piece. Which might’ve been for the best, otherwise, they would’ve squabbled until it cools. Unbothered, Leo snacks on the piece and has to physically stop himself from shooting out and away from his seat. Oh yeah, this tastes even better. A whole game changer. Before he could stop himself, his hands seemed to move faster than his mouth, busily eating away the sticky goodness mixed with chocolate. 

A small gasp disturbs the peace.

"Oh, uh. You got something over there," Usagi points at the corners of Leo’s face. 

So much for trying not to make a fool out of himself. After a couple what do you mean there?? I'm wiping where you're pointing at , Usagi exasperatedly sighs and sits a bit closer. Licking his thumb, he smudges away the extra bit of sauce, far too concentrated on getting that stubborn chocolatey sweetness off to notice anything else. To notice Leo’s widened eyes. Shaky breath. Wagging tail. And Leo could unfreeze himself from the moment and untangle Usagi’s tender touches away from his face, any second from now. But it's hard. It’s so hard to stop himself from getting lost in those pools of ruby red, stilling himself the best he can so he doesn’t come off as strange, letting Usagi do the work. 

He hates the way Usagi’s other hand gingerly cups his face, letting his mind wander to places he tried to put a lid on. It’s doing things to him. Crazy things. Regrettable things. It makes him wonder how ears and bangs and cheeks feel snuggled upon his hands. 

Must be soft. Yeah. Definitely soft.

And truth be told, Leo isn’t a huge fan of clichés. Once a hater, forever a hater. Most of the rom-coms watched during movie night were cute and all; just your typical cheesy scenarios that everyone and their grandmothers’ knew from a mile away. It’s just that, they never really connected to him. He couldn’t necessarily say he felt his heart throb watching the damsel be swept off her feet, only to share a rewarding kiss with her hero. Jupiter Jim, of course. Perhaps it was purely because close up kissing montages scarred him for life. Or maybe, it was the fact that he loathed how they got a happy ending, and he was stuck always wanting to hold anyone but the charming hero’s hand. 

Yet, he watches as the leftover shimmers of setting sun glisten upon Usagi’s face. Emitting a small twinkle in his eyes, brightening his small smile after successfully riding the smear. The cameras are rolling, special effects are kicking in, and he might as well be starred as the main character because it honestly doesn’t feel real. Leo feels silly for even considering to pinch himself in case this whole journey had been a dream all long. 

“You look pretty,” Leo blurts out. 

It’s so out of the blue and strange, but Leo isn’t worried about being perceived weird. Not now, at least. Right now, he’s more focused on getting the words out. He doesn’t want anything unsaid to keep him up at night when he’s already got another thing coming. But pretty doesn’t even begin to describe how radiant he looks. Describing Usagi with that would’ve put him to shame. But nonetheless, it does the job at stopping him in his tracks.

“Dunno why I said that if I’m being honest. I just, I barely see you out, y’know? Probably ‘cause I only see you at Tío’s diner and the lighting there is kinda shit whatever is said here, stays here, ” Leo whisper yells the last bit. Jokingly shaking his head, Usagi stifles a laugh at the switch up. 

“But, you get my point. It’s nice. Seeing you anywhere but there. A pretty nice change of pace, don’t ‘cha think?”

“Hm. I guess you’re right.”

“I always am.”

“And I don’t give a damn.”

“You give so many damns, I can see it from outer space.”

-

“How about that?”

“The fortune telling booth. Kinda glad we didn’t go there cause I overheard the lady working there is super sketchy. No es posible are we going there next time.”

“Then, what about this one? On your left.”

“Fancy antique store. Most likely sells weird junk that sells a vase once in a blue moon,” Leo answers back without fault. He snorts at Usagi's lack of awareness. “C'mon man, don’t tell me you already forgot. We literally circled around like, a bajillion times.”

Usagi didn’t. He just liked pretending he didn’t. But it was solely for two reasons, and two reasons only. 

The first being the real reason he’s here. Tagging along with Leo had been an adventure, but it also allowed him to discreetly pinpoint places that’ll be the cause of his downfall, and places that’ll help him get out of here as soon as possible. Everywhere is mapped out, but he feels like he’s missing something. Something big. And as for the cause of reason, he doesn’t like thinking about the events that led up to him being stuck here in the first place. Whatever that forcefully kicked him out of Neo Edo, was a topic he shouldn't dwell much on. All he has to do is lay low and keep going. So, he ignores that bit all together.

But more importantly, he acts like his memory capacity is the same as a goldfish (do goldfishes actually have a short term memory span? All Usagi knows is that it’s a popular English saying) so he can hear Leo explain the different places to him. He kind of likes hearing that confidence once accustomed return back to Leo, studying the way the red-eared slider tries to stop himself from smiling too hard whenever he knows something so sure. Now that’s the Leo he knew. So, all Usagi sends is a simple shrug to Leo’s confused face. 

“Well, makes me glad I have you as my tour guide, huh?”

All that was heard afterwards was the sound of crunches on the remaining churro sticks and comfortable silence. That is, until Usagi dusts away the sugary dust lingering on his palms and questions, “And that one?”

He points his palm to the stall in the very back. It’s huge and crowded and crammed with an abundance of color - assuming they were yokai - in comparison to every other market stall, which were tiny, and some overly crowded in their own allocated spaces. And now that Usagi’s really thinking about it, it doesn’t look like a stall. It looks much like a huge gate. 

Next to him, he hears Leo let out a hesitant sound of recognition.

“You’ve probably heard some fancy names for it, yokai love to make it seem scarier than it already is. But really, it’s just a gateway between here and topside. The human world,” Leo wiggles his fingers, intended to intimidate Usagi by bringing heavy emphasis on the last part. 

Usagi stares at him blankly.

For something that sounds so uncanny, right up Leo’s alley, he doesn’t seem the least bit excited bringing it up, unease slipping through the cracks of his persona. “Freaky? Yeah, totally get you.”

“How long has it been there?”

“Not long, actually. Only recently built. After uh, the unspeakable thing that went down a couple months ago AHEM. I guess a couple humans caught interest and wanted to know more. Well, a couple thousands. Millions. Billions. Hm, sounds about right.”

Gateway to another world, huh? Security seems pretty tight, so I need to be more cautious. Now all I have to do is find a way to sneak past the security guards at the post, Usagi pauses. He stares at the gate intently. Observing how highly perched the gate is, sitting against a bricked wall with sleek metal bars ajar, and yet not a single yokai walked through. All that was coming through, were humans. Only humans. Which makes sense, but doesn’t at the same time, because why is it so one-sided? Why weren’t there any yokai undaring to walk through the gate? 

Almost as if he knew Usagi was going to ask, Leo sandwiches his face and turns it elsewhere, deflecting Usagi's attempts at redirecting the conversation back to those looming bars, imprisoning them from seeing beyond. He’s talking faster than the speed of light. Like Leo's desperately trying to make Usagi ever forget having that conversation.

“How about I tell you about this other stall? Hm? I think you'll like it.”

-

Leo should’ve known that time was bound to catch up to them. That eventually, they’ll have to wind down their tear-jerking laughs and return back home. Actually, he knew that from the very start. He just didn’t want to admit that he was having so much fun. Because as much as they were having a blast, the sun eventually has to slip into its routinely deep slumber, and the once festive music has to simmer down to a soft jazzy beat. The dark comes out to play and it keeps Leo on his toes, sending an endless loop of wondering how much longer he can withstand another encounter with that metal piece of junk. Will it be nicer to him, or crueler than before? Leo doesn’t plan on finding out anytime soon, but did he even have a choice in the first place?

A shame that some things have to come to an end. 

Leo looks around. The box of churros, once full, was now tossed aside. They’ve been sitting together in silence for a while, excluding the occasional comments thrown, the both of them busily admiring the sparks of light bubbling past the dark shadows, lurking behind the corners. He decides that he was going to make the first move, because Usagi sure as hell doesn't look like he's going to ask the daring question.

“It’s getting kinda dark, we should probably head back home. You ready?”

Usagi flickers his eyes away from the suggestion. 

“Home. Yeah, that’s right. We should leave,” Usagi admits. 

He hears how thickly the other swallows. It's not long before Usagi unhurriedly slings his bag up and over his shoulder, climbing over the railing but not without a distant, longing look, scanning the sea of lights. 

And look, there’s a reason why Leo’s the face man. Partially it's because he’s the one with the award-winning smile and charm, and totally not because that’s the only thing he’s good at. But he knows something is up with Usagi. He won’t push it, it’s not in his place to, but he can see that something isn’t right. This feeling that something's up doesn't happen often, mostly because he willingly chooses to ignore it and let someone else take that responsibility. But not this time. It's going to be different, because he’s going to try and crack that stone faced look.

So, when Usagi asks why he isn’t following and turns to see Leo lying on the floor instead of walking behind, it’s bound to raise a couple questions. 

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

He looks up. If he opened his eyes any later, he would’ve missed the way Usagi bit his lip to stop a smile from forming. Especially the way he drags a hand over his eyes, but not out of exhaustion from hearing Leo’s antics. Keeping his cool, Leo cushions his arms behind his head and waits for Usagi to ask a question he's already prepared an answer for. “You're up to something, and it's either something bad or worse. What are you implying?”

“Geez man, cool your jets. I'm only thinking of a couple things on what we could do. Nothing more, nothing less," Leo sarcastically jokes. He goes on to further explain the choices they have left, briefly noting how one of Usagi's ears twitch to his direction. "I mean, we could always leave and call it a night."

“I’m sensing there’s something more to it.”

“Or we could go venturing into the night markets for round two. Finally found the stall Tío’s usuals were talking about.”

Gold eyes shifted to watch his furred friend walk over to him, surveying the way he leisurely crouches next to him. He lets crimson eyes glaze all over his face. At this point, Leo doesn't know whether it's supposed to make him feel comforted or nervous, because either way, it's creating this cluster of butterflies swarming in his stomach. His train of thought comes to a striking halt, because all he can think about is whether or not he looks presentable in front of the most handsome guy in the world. “Or?”

“Or, you can spend a little time with me, and we can watch the stars,” Leo barely whispers, not trusting himself to speak any louder.

“That. I like that option."

Not that he'll admit it, but Leo's glad that Usagi took the offer. Even when their stargazing spot happened to be at an abandoned building's rooftop, accompanied by nothing but a chilly breeze and themselves. Dropping the ungodly heavy bag beside, Usagi takes his spot right beside Leo. It takes a while, but after smoothing out Leo's mask tails beneath his head, he finally makes himself comfortable. Leo feels that soft fur tickle his fingertips. 

"You have a bag," Leo states. 

"And your mask so happened to be right next to my face," Usagi retorts. "Who knows how long the floor has been swept since we got here. Cleaning my fur is tiring, but cleaning dead bugs and bacteria out of my fur? No thank you."

Smirking at Leo's splutters, a quick chuckle barks out of Usagi's mouth. Which, first off, how dare he, and second off, the audacity of this guy? It's not like he'll care if Leo does bring it up. Because knowing him he probably already predicted what Leo would say, and which comebacks set him off the most. Damn him. And he can't even get mad at that reason. Living with a father that constantly has to change brushes to rid his thick matte fur, it's safe to say that yeah, it does sound pretty plausible.

Leo raises his arm, palm flexed out and pointed towards the canvas of black, purple, and dark blue, and how the tiny speckles of white lay splattered. Some bigger than others, some twinkling brighter than most, but all unique regardless. Usagi's eyes follows his hand.

"It's funny seeing those stars now. Back when I was younger, I always thought they were the real. Yeah, turns out they're not," he puts it out bluntly. A soft laugh erupts from him, letting it roll out of his mouth as he watches the rabbit look at him incredulously, squint back at the sky, then back at him. Double checking to see if Leo's pulling his leg. "I'm not joking, I'm being for real for once! Trust me. You should've seen how crushed I was after finding that. And I was like, what? Thirteen? Legit messed me up for weeks, man." He crinkles his eyes at the distant memory. Smiling reminiscently at his shocked doubling upon finding out he was the second last to find that out, Mikey being the last, but apparently being the youngest didn't count. His curved mouth falls flat. "But I think that was the whole point of it all. To make you believe that the cheap knock-off was the real deal. Because at the time, anything was better than nothing when you're stuck trapped in the Hidden City."

"And by that, you mean..."

"That every yokai couldn't go to the human world? Ding ding ding, we have a winner with us tonight!" Leo exclaims. He feels a finger shyly brush against his hand. Pretending he didn't notice, a rushed but somewhat coherent, "But that's in the past, don't worry your pretty head off! Big Mama did some fancy schmancy alliance thing. Yokai are happy, humans are happy. End of story, you get the jist."

He watches as that small frown smoothens out; a tell-tale sign he's been searching for. And he hopes he'll forgive him for giving an answer that everybody wants to hear, but knows it isn't true. Even if the lie doesn't necessarily affect Usagi.

Now pointing at another portion of the sky, he continues explaining.

"And hey, at least they got the constellations correct. Well, most of it.  If I'm being honest, I think that I'm the only one keeping track, if we're excluding Don's big 'ol brain of his. Like that one! That trapezium looking thing with a funny looking line behind, is called 'Big Dipper'. And what's even funnier, there's this another constellation called 'Little Dipper'. You can't really see it, but uh, it's somewhere. But the reason why I say it's funny, it 'cause Don and I used to fight over who was Big Dipper. It was either rock, paper, scissors, or bribery. All because it sounded cooler than the other," Leo excitedly shares.

Just when he fears that he might've overshared more than usual, a benign laugh would follow up at a perfect timing. Even if it's short-lasted, Leo doesn't mind. He'll take it as a win either way. Still, a hushed apology manages to thaw into his lips.

Confused, Usagi turns away from the sky, no matter how alluring it may look. Leo doesn't think he can face those pitiful eyes. "I don't mind it. You talking for a long time, that is. It sort of reminds me of how Gen usually acts."

"Wait, Gen?"

Upon noticing Usagi's shoulders tense, Leo quickly makes a dive to save the conversation from souring. "He sounds pretty chill."

"Yeah, he is. Tall, intimidating, but he's got a soft heart," Usagi recalls fondly. Though, if Leo were to assume, he'd say that despite Usagi's warm words, a hint of tension hasn't left his face. A concentrated look creating the illusion that he's trying to remember anything else, but failing to do so. His brow knit together, eyes pacing, before looking back at the sky. "First met him at my previous job, if I were to be specific."

Reminds me of a certain motherhen, Leo smirks, his mind conjuring up his red masked brother. He patiently waits for Usagi to pick up where he left off.

"You know that I'm from Neo Edo, and you know that I've learnt both martial arts and iaido. That's clear enough. But what you didn't know, was what I did for a living. After completing my training, I was officially assigned anchisukiru. I don't really know how to explain it in English, but uh. Just imagine someone guarding something extremely important, but also imagine me fighting off thieves, evil spirits, you named it, that wanted a piece of it," Usagi smiles to himself.  

"And the important thing is question was a really giant, red, crystal. The most prized thing from the entire city. Ki-stone, was what everybody called it. I was only sixteen when I first began and had no idea what was going on most of the time, and definitely had no clue what that crystal did other than power the city. But Leo, it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen," Usagi details. He's making these huge oval motions emphasizing how big the crystal is, and wow. Leo can only imagine the size of that thing. An absolute unit.

"No way, so you're like Batman!? Some average looking Joe by day, protector of the innocent by night," Leo dramatically announces. Stopping himself from continuing, he focuses back on topic. "My bad, go on."

Mildly surprised that Leo wanted to hear more, the corners of Usagi's eyes crease. A smile twitched upon his mouth.

"And because I had a poor concept of money, it was easy say that my superiors took advantage of my ignorance. I didn't realize that being overworked was a bad thing. If it was just me on duty, then I would've quit a long time ago. I owe my thanks to my friends for keeping me sane. Every time we were dismissed for the night, my friends would suggest the wildest things. Sometimes we would go out street fighting, or eating out the most delicious ramen shop I've ever had. But personally, my favorite thing was simply to lay on the grass and watch the stars. I suppose that one of the perks of living in the countryside, is the fresh view of the night sky," he adds on.

Recounting the events, Usagi massages his palm; the one covered by a protective glove. The leathered surface emits a small squeak from his soothing methodical massages over it. Leo hasn't seen him do that often nowadays, and the times that he does, it would've presumed to be just a tiny itch to scratch. Or whatever. But now that he's lying right next to him, he can see how hard he kneads on his palm talking about his past.

Especially when he talked about the Ki-stone.

"Huh, then that means you would've returned late or something, yeah?"

"That's correct."

"Then, wouldn't your family like, I dunno, hound you or something? My sleep schedules royally screwed, but even my brothers' find a way to make a huge fuss over me staying up later than usual. Like insomnia? Whoever that guy is, he sucks major balls."

"My aunt and little sister. They're all I have left," Usagi says forcefully. "I just don't get to see them much. That's all."

Slowly, but surely, another arm gently bumps his and points next to where Leo's pointing. His aversion of topic on family seems to be deliberate. But maybe some things are better unspoken, Leo knows that from his own personal experiences. Keeping his word, he doesn't push it and moves on, now staring at the subject of focus. Ah, he recognizes those three consecutive stars aligned anywhere.

As predicted, Usagi quirks his brow and asks, "what about that one? The one that looks like an hourglass. Tell me about it."

"You sure? It's not a great story, and it most definitely doesn't really have a happy ending," Leo admits.

"Tell me anyways?"

It’s funny how many times he’s read the story behind it, memorizing the minor details until he could recall it from the top of his head, but never really put much thought much about behind it. The question never really came up. 

He sighs deeply as Usagi jerkily nods. Persistent as ever. It's a blessing that his friend's still paying attention to every word he's spoken without feeling an ounce of boredom (or maybe he has, only difference being that he's just a really good actor), but he secretly wonders if it's also a curse, leaving him no choice but to dig deep into the disastrous lore of that specific constellation. Out of all the stars shining tonight, he just had to pick the one with the most tragic backstory. But if it was Usagi asking, well then…

Leo dries the roof of his mouth.

"That's Orion's Belt. Not sure whether this applies to Neo Edo or not, but this is one of the most well-known constellations out there. You either love it or hate it, no in between. People mostly like the deeper meaning behind it. Or whatever. If you ask me, I think it's neat 'cause it looks so goofy compared to everything else. But I guess I get why people like it, because it looks different. The whole thing is completely based off a Greek god, Orion, hard to miss that name, being well-respected as a hunter. A hero. But he was also an ass. Apparently, he was a top-tier douchebag and would go on these violent rampages. Whaat ? Leo used a big word? Impossible. But back on topic. Some say that he died from a scorpion sent by another goddess; live for the drama. While others say that his own arrogance killed him when he boasted that he could kill any animal. In general, not so great guy, and probably not that much fun to be around," Leo explains.

"But you?" Leo owlishly blinks. Was he supposed to be answering a previous question? If that's the case, then he doesn't really remember. He rests his hand, letting it fall beside him, Usagi doing the same. Nonetheless, he pretends to be deep in thought and lets his usual confident demeanor ask, "What about me?"

"What I'm saying, is what about you? That's what everyone else thinks, you said it yourself," Usagi rephrases his question.

It's almost comforting to hear that honey mellow rumble in the edge of his voice, soothing any sense of worry left in him. This time, Leo lets his body move on its own accord, holding in his breath as he lets his own pinkie finger nudge the other's. He feels a small finger wrap around his own. 

"I don't care if it's something people will get mad about. Besides, I don't think I'm in that position to correct you, not when I know barely anything about it," he insists. "But what do you think about him?" 

They keep looking above, idly spectating the stars above attempting to outshine one another. And from afar, he sees something of a mini jet-like silhouette behind a large mass of clouds. The nightly police patrol. How could he possibly forget the ones that sacked him and Ronin. Even though that blasted thing is moving at lightning speed, he doesn't miss the wanted poster plastered on both sides of the aircraft.

He's thankful that the cicadas chirp loud enough to fills the silent void.

"I mean, there's no good or bad when we're talking about constellations. Sure, he wasn't the best guy out there, but also yeah, he was alleged pretty good looking. But, I dunno how to feel about him," Leo comments. "From what I see it, he just, wanted to be someone he wasn't. You get my drift? I guess you could say that he was a pretty lonely guy. And literally imagine doing so many awesome and awful and weird things, then years later, some old guy thought it'd be cool to remember you by your belt. Then boom. Look at us right now. He'd probably be pissed at us right now, or something." 

A breathy snicker slipped into Usagi's mouth. "Sounds terrible, I'd feel pretty lonely too if I were him. You can't help but feel pity," Usagi grows quieter. Then, out of the blue, he turns his head to face Leo again, but this time to nudge Leo in the arm. "And I'm pretty sure you're dragging his name in the mud by using 'allegedly'. For a human, I'm sure there's something nice about him."

"Well, he's nowhere as good looking as me," Leo resists the urge to let his mouth curl upwards.

"You know what? I'm willing to bet that he had the most luscious, curly, brown locks."

"That's unlikely."

"The most sharpest jaw line."

"That's cliché."

"Probably the bluest eyes."

"That's stereotypical."

"And a nice smile."

"Ok fine, you win." Breaking out of character, the slider shakes his head to himself. His hand makes way to shove Usagi's sly smile away from his own. Unsurprisingly, his cheek feels incredibly soft and silky. "But you're right. He does have a nice smile," Leo murmurs, all while staring at Usagi. 

In a sense, it's funny seeing Usagi's mouth clamp shut and freeze. Adorable even. His initial mini side quest to befriend that aloof waiter, only to eventually find the true Usagi under all those thick, hard, unbreakable layers, felt so rewarding. To see those buck teeth show whenever he's really giddy about something, to see his floppy ear twitch to Leo's direction. 

Even thinking about it returns that funny feeling. That funny, fuzzy feeling that he’s been dancing around for ages, that he makes him want to… Wait what?

Leo immediately backs away and sits up, awkwardly wiping off the dust on his hoodie. A rough cough rips into his throat. He was close to Usagi. Not dangerously close where both their lips were a breath apart, but too close for his own liking. Too close for just friends. And the scariest thing of all, he didn't want to look away. For that, Leo hates how much he wants to let himself fall deeper and deeper into Usagi’s world.

Snap out of it, Leo! You’re better than this. You fought your uncle’s brothers, survived a minotaur maze, got dropped from a building by your step-dad and almost fell to your death. Fought literal aliens. So what if we held hands? Hanging out with your friend shouldn’t be any harder. Don't make yourself look weirder than you already are, Leo scolds himself. Little does he know that while he’s occupied with his thoughts, his long eared companion sat up as well, studying his face half-lidded and with a look of interest sparked in his eyes. Usagi looks far from disturbed.

The cracked screen of his phone lights up, most likely a message from Donnie. But as he reaches for it, his finger flinches back. Something sharp pokes inside his pocket. He doesn’t remember having something thin and flat inside - Oh!

Summoning out of his pocket, two tickets land on his palm. 

The reflective gold surface illuminates beneath the basking glow of the many various stars, amplifying the deep purple borders painting an impression of elegance. Stylish cursive lettering carved almost paired with thin web-like designs on each individual corner. Usagi squints his eyes. He blinks in confusion as to why Leo is handing one of them to him.

“Okay, so, there’s this huge thing going on next week. Big Mama’s hosting this charity thing between yokai and humans and it’s a BIG deal, ‘cause no one has ever done that before, and she’s basically telling everyone to come. It’s kinda boring. Most of it’s gonna be important people. But, the cool thing about the event is how there’s a dance floor. And this isn’t your usual ballroom themed party. Oh ho-ho no. It's something better. A masquerade ball,” Leo plants a ticket in Usagi’s limp hands, forcing those white furred fingers to curl around it. Maybe he should’ve introduced the topic at hand better, because Usagi’s mouth hasn’t stopped gaping.

“This is a once in a lifetime chance to ever attend, but you gotta register quickly before spots fill up. Well, your guy just so happened to see a billboard about it while shopping for you.”

“I don’t want to embarrass you, Leo,” Usagi looks away. “I’ve never seriously danced.”

“Beats me; I don’t either. I just pretend that I do.” 

“Surely, there’s someone else that’s better at dancing than me?”

Beep after another, it doesn’t stop. The plethora of notifications' from his phone are blowing up with urgency, probably about tonight’s mission. Right. Yeah. He almost forgot about that. And before Usagi could stretch his head to see the source of that rapidfire ding ding, Leo switches his phone to silent mode. 

Leo tosses the lifeless metal brick aside.

“You’re probably right. There are a heap lot of professional yokai that are way better than you,” Leo admits. He knows he’s trying to make a point, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t slightly regret watching Usagi falter. “But I don’t wanna invite a rando, no matter how good they are. I want you.” Almost immediately, Usagi whips his head to look at Leo wide eyed. His chest doesn’t rise. Like he’s unknowingly holding on it. “And I know this is really sudden, and I always try to tell you but I keep forgetting, and it probably sounds stupid. But I’d rather be bored to death than stay around those uptight douchebags who are only there for BM, and you seem to keep me entertained and sane.”

Which, he must say, is uncharacteristically bold of him. And he wouldn’t have the courage to, but April’s been nagging him to quote unquote, ‘make a move before he dies from the suspense’, ever since he accidentally spilled the beans about Usagi. Actually, that ticket was for her to tag along. But life happens, and sometimes, dragging an emotionally exhausted teenager from a branched timeline to a month-long vacation in Tahiti, is absolutely needed.

(Leo tries not to think about how he got on his knees and begged April to give him her ticket. Then he realised that he didn't need to go through the extremities because regardless, his sister was too busy to go to the event. So naturally, he made himself more dramatic than necessary, grappling onto her ankles and fake wailing for her mercy.)

Getting up to leave for real, the blue and teal duo made their way away from their hangout. Before they split ways, Usagi tugs on the sleeve of Leo’s hoodie. 

“I'll go with you, but only because you asked me to,” Usagi confirms, now crossing his arms. 

Oh man, this is good. No. Amazing! 

Unable to smother his excitement any longer, Leo crashes into Usagi’s lean figure, wrapping his arms around the body of fur. He feels the latter stiffen from the sudden contact, but the reciprocated soothing pat is enough to translate his content. “Thank you for making my day better.” He squeezes his eyes shut, arms mimicking his actions. And he really does mean it. Today has been nothing but a rollercoaster, full of highs and unbelievably steeping lows, and while he’s grateful it’s slowly coming to an end, he’s even more knowing he had someone to join his wild ride. “See you then, Usa?”

“Yeah, whatever. Now get out of my face,” Usagi rolls his eyes. Giving his blue masked friend one final pat on the back, he teasingly pushes him away, beginning to take his leave. He sends Leo one look. “See you then, Leo.”

Now with Usagi officially out of the picture, Leo’s reminded of the painstaking reality beyond gorging sickly sweet churros and hanging around market stalls. He pulls out his neglected phone, wincing at his screen bombarded with messages, blaming no one but himself for not checking them earlier.

Big mission going on. That’s right. Tonight is the night they make progress on collecting the second artefact. He’s got the candles, so all that’s really left is the incense bell and hourglass. 

Making his way down the stairwell, the flickers of nervousness settles back in Leo, unravelling icy chills down his shell and neck. No matter how many times he tried to comfort himself, his paranoia seemed to love putting him on edge. That something bad is bound to happen and he can’t stop it from ever happening in the first place. And even when his jitters are strung high and all over the place, there’s one thing that makes him feel better. Just a smidge.

It puts him at ease knowing that Usagi’s not involved in any way, shape, or form.

Chapter Text

To be fair, Leo completely understands why Raph was so mad. That’s why he didn’t defend himself when those panicked whispers blasted into his face, not when he knows he’s completely in the wrong for being late to the mission. If you were in his shoes - or lack thereof - then yes, freaking out would be the first course of action. But then again, that would be anyone’s automatic response to dozens of unread messages bombarding your phone. 

So cut him some slack; jumping head first into crime fighting after a sweet date, was not the high-note he imagined tonight would end on.

Leo was met with two negatives and a positive. The distance wasn’t exactly a brisk walk in the park. In fact, the location Donnie sent - the passive aggressiveness laced behind the message was duly noted - was stretched out to the other side of the Hidden City, which makes Leo wonder if he should’ve picked another place to hang out with Usagi. Not that it matters now. 

“How could you forget something so important?” 

A simple question anyone with half a brain cell would’ve asked. And to that, Leo wholeheartedly agrees because that’s the exact same thing he’s thinking of, all the while he picks up the pace, cursing himself for not looking at Donnie’s message earlier. 

He leaps past the rooftops while letting his mind run a marathon of its own. It’s not like he has many options - the first option being that he teleports there, and the other option being he cherry picks an unsuspecting bike to permanently leech on, saving himself both the time and trouble to arrive at said meet-up place. But no. Leo just loved making his life a whole lot more miserable than it already is, down right relished in testing his limits with his yet recovered body, and what better time could he do that than now?

Leo just so happened to not feel like teleporting today. Or the day before. And month.

But that’s besides the point. He’s a runner, he’s a track star, and he knows can do anything if he puts his mind into it. 

So running it was.

Unbeknownst to Leo, sprinting like his life depended on it without a second to spare, brought out certain consequences. Like magically seeing black spots, or having a severe case of jello legs, followed up with an awful mix of lightheadedness and nausea. Leo could confirm that he was on the brink of blacking out because of his previous botched medical training, but mostly because he was experiencing all of the above. 

Mildly exhausted but powering through, he and his sluggish body managed to get there in one piece. He scans all over. 

Apparently, he was too busy running to consider the bigger question, staring dumbfoundedly at the numerous metal containers piled, scratching his head as if he would miraculously find three ninja turtles hiding behind one of them. 

Sneaking a shipping dock? Textbook action movie scenario.

Blue? Dead end. What about behind… this one! Nope, still no sight of them , Leo rambled. His eyes alternated between his endless search and the bright red dot on his phone, pointing at where everyone else was but just couldn’t figure out where exactly. Looking above, beside, but it was no use; all that he found was disappointment. Leo huffed out a groan. Why was it taking him so long to find them? Calling Don didn't work. All it did was send him to his stupidly corny voicemail message( but reasonable so, considering the abysmal amount of messages Leo left unread). 

But he can’t exactly think about that when he’s got another problem coming at him. Immediately, he throws himself back against the storage container’s coolness, flinching at the waves of twinged pain, but that can wait when he’s alarmingly close to being spotted by a Foot ninja. Stilling himself for the longest time physically possible; silently praying that those thuds disappear.

And it does for a little while, slowing to a halt. Before they move closer to the spot Leo's currently hiding behind. Which obviously puts Leo at a disadvantage. It's one thing if he senses a Foot ninja walking to his temporary hideout, he could always flex his rad ninja skills, but sensing another making their way on Leo's other side. Oh yikes. Leo didn't think he would end up being sandwiched by one of his many arch-nemeses', but here he is. This is going to look messy, more of the fact that he did promise his family that he would arrive in one piece, but that doesn't seem to be the case when things are starting to get even more complicated once those footsteps get closer to him-

Both masked heads peek at the noise, wary eyes falling on the nearby pigeon emerging from the shadows. Its timid coos fill the air, masking the impression of someone hiding behind. A disapproving sigh was released before they went their separate ways and patrolled elsewhere.

Within the shadows, Leo released a held gasp, his shoulders dropping. Phew, that was close. That would’ve ended poorly if that suspiciously large arm hadn't pull him into the shadows. Roll back the tape and rewind. Not that he can see or anything, but it doesn't rule out the awfully tight grip around his arm, nor the spiky scales prickling his own. Clicking on the torch option, he flashes his phone at a visibly pissed Raph. 

A nervous laugh slips out of Leo's mouth. His apologetic nature doesn't do him much justice, but rather, amplifies the bewildered look Raph has going on. Raph’s face red all over, assumingly from his ungodly level of self-restraining a thousand things he could’ve lectured, neck threatening to bust a vein, and it makes Leo feel even worse than he initially thought he’d feel. 

The loud machinery of transport vehicles whirr in the background.

Now that he really considers it, there wasn’t much of a positive to begin with. So yeah, he decidedly shuts up and let's Raph blow some steam. 

Forced out of his mouth, Raph harshly whispers, “What do you think’ya doin, Leo?? Tryna’ get yourself jumped by those bozos!?” 

“Are you?” the Krang smirks.

Leo doesn't reply. For once, he lets his eyes do the talking, maintaining his glare past Raph and towards the revolting laser beam red. Hoping the metal junk would stop getting on his nerves, yapping about his perpetual demise which won’t happen anytime soon. 

Slightly confused at the sudden tension, Donnie aligns his sight at the direction Leo's looking at, only to meet another metal body of the Hidden City's standard storage container.

Pushing away his older brother's strong grip, Leo watches his older brother's face contort into one of confusion before settling with annoyance. Leo knows that look. He knows Raph wants to talk about what’s going on in his head, but it’s just. Too much. So he keeps pushing it aside, hoping that no one will bring it up, and everyone will forget about the topic altogether. Which is good, fantastic even. Because Leo doesn't want to talk about it either.

"Did I miss out on much, gang?" 

Mikey thinks thoughtfully. "Even if you were late, there wasn't anything new we found. Pretty much repeating the touchdown we had about last night, remember?”

Leo nods. He actually does for once. Which itself, does sound pretty bad on his part. But yesterday was different, recalling almost everything. Blah blah blah Ronin’s bad, avoid him at all costs, get to the artefact before him, blah blah. But moreso, because he’ll get to see Usagi after being strapped to the bed with a raging fever, rather than just talk to him over the phone.

Yeah, Leo can roll with that. No, he’s not down bad. 

“Where were you today, Raph’s barely seen you.” Raph hums non-approvingly. “And why go through the trouble of running? Didn’t ya’like showing off with your teleporting skills?”

Again, another brilliant question that Leo doesn’t know the answer to.

“Uh,” Leo gulps. “I got caught up with something. And distracted. And I still got mystic fatigue. But I’ll tell you more later.” He won’t, but at least Raph looks reassured by it. All in all, the excuse he cooked up wasn’t completely a lie. He looks over to a nonchalant Donnie, who sighs at his panicked pleas, internally grateful for Donnie redirecting the questions away from him and more towards Ronin.

They’ve been keeping tabs on the samurai as promised by Donnie, and strangely enough, his place remains stationary. Unmoving. Like he’s found out about it’s existence and took matters into his own hands. 

Donnie says he doesn’t understand why the tracker’s only active now of all times. Leo thinks he’s just covering up the fact that his tech is occasionally dogshit. The upcoming few moments before they brawled, Raph desperately tried preventing a national catastrophe from happening, and Mikey didn’t help when betting on which twin would win the fight.

But that all changed when that stubborn red dot finally moved last night. Since then, they’ve been hunting him down, and here they are now. 

And regardless of whether Leo does or doesn't remember, everyone knew how Raph would repeat it once more; probably a motherhen tendency he never grew out of. He tentatively  waits for Raph to get to the important bit.

"Like Raph suggested, this is an in and out typa thing. We grab that fancy bell Drax talked about, maybe beat up a couple Foot ninjas if Raph's feeling antsy, then out. If any of you finds the wanted samurai, or he sees you, alert everyone and try to fight 'im off. Long enough so the other half'a us gets to the thing before he does. We can't have him messing things up for us," Raph debriefs. In record timing, he looks away from everyone else and daggers his eyes at Leo. "And remember, if any of you lot gets hurt. EVEN if ya'just feel dizzy and need timeout."

"Then we'll call you," Leo answers robotically. As expected, he receives a firm nod from the snapping alligator. God, he still hasn't let that go. 

Not in the mood to entertain the argument, Leo dragged whichever brother was unfortunately the closest. A series of confused sputters were thrown behind for Leo to deduce two to one, easily connecting the dots, the use of fancy unabbreviated words being a huge hint - Donnie. All the while Leo knew how much his twin hated physical touch, what he really wanted to do was break free from Raph’s suffocating energy.

Finally away from the sunset duo, it took a moment of silence before Donnie yanked himself free, brushing the dust from his shoulder onto Leo. Wow. Of course he's petty like that. Making a brief stop, Leo lets Donnie do all the fancy pick locking, stepping away from the door.

Is it an invasion of privacy? Absolutely. Does Leo care if it means he'll find the missing puzzle piece to help him rid that looming hunk of metal for good? You beat your ass he doesn't.

He lifts the handle, high enough for the both of them to slide in.

As expected, it’s your typical shipping container; filled with useless junk and somewhat important things housed for the purpose of I remember they used to sell these back in the days, and the occasional important business-y things Leo isn’t bothered to get into. They're tossing and rummaging through misplaced stuff, when a flat, "You left my messages on read," breaks the silence. There's a downcasted tone and Leo's decided that he doesn't like it and he's going to fix it somehow.

"Well, I dunno what to tell you," Leo says. Shutting the storage door as quietly as possible (he winced at the rusty scratchy sound it left. That can’t be good), the both of them moved onto another storage container. Actually, it was more Leo power walking away in a brave attempt to actively avoid answering the question, busying himself by scavenging through the dull brown and grey for a shiny bright yellow. Nope. Still no incense bell.

"Time flies when you're having fun, I guess."

"You never leave my messages on read," Donnie emphasises. 

He forcibly stopped Leo in his tracks, stepping in front, lowering his head. It wasn't news that Donnie had trouble maintaining eye contact; he could whenever he wanted to assert dominance, but it was overall unpreferable. And it never really bothered Leo, so he just assumed it was just a Donnie thing (it was most definitely not a Donnie thing). But man, staring into your twin's eyes felt kind of freakishly weird. 

The both of them make no effort to continue their search. Not while Donnie’s busy searching for answers and Leo’s got nothing to share.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, voice small. “Mikey says it’s okay if I don’t know what exactly I’m feeling. Just as long as I try to explain it. Genius and all, I’m really lost if I have done or said something that made you…”

“What!? No no , you got it all wrong. I’m not mad at you, it’s just,” Leo sighs frustratingly. He looks away to form the words, but he still feels Donnie’s eyes patiently waiting.

Don’t get him wrong, he’s all in for Donnie actually trying to give emotions a shot, but this? Hearing his twin’s side of things? Heartbreaking. From his perspective, Leo just wanted some peace and quiet hanging out with his friend; no distractions from family or enemies. Just him and Usagi in their own world. Little did he know that keeping this secret would actually bring harm. All he ever wanted to feel… normal.

It sucks that he doesn’t know if that’s okay. 

Before he could even string up a response, a head-splitting crash jolted the both of them from their conversation. Shutting his mouth, Leo nudged his head towards the source of the sound. Donnie bobbed his head.

Laying low within the shadows, they laid their eyes upon the scene. And boy was it messy. Everything pretty much spelt it out. The front of the shipping container embarked a noticeable indented, presumably from being shoved (thrown was more accurate, but it just sounded much nicer and less gruesome), dim lamp posts reflecting enough light to show the speckles of fresh red splattered upon. And before the damaged surface, a Foot ninja rolled and massaged its used fist, standing tall and firm above a kneeled samurai, hood hanging low. A worn-out katana lies presumably far away from anyone’s grasp.

Droplets of red plummeted from the cloaked head and to the ground, not bothering to wipe it.

From his distance, he couldn’t possibly hear what the Foot told Ronin. Possibly whatever orders their new boss or master told them to recite. But that didn’t mean he knew what was happening next - actions speak louder than words. His pupils shrunk, filled with horror at the sight of a raised katana at the defenseless vigilante, steadying the weapon to come crashing down.

Not on my watch.

Without thinking, he leapt out of the shadows and charged towards the armed ninja. After an exchange of clashing katanas, a metallic bonk whipped behind the foot printed ninja’s head, loudly colliding with the already fragile surface of the stacked container. The Foot ninja slumped against the wall. Looking at his preoccupied twin dusting his hands, Leo mouthed his thanks, only to be responded with an affectionate eye roll.

A painful moan could be heard from below. Oh yikes, yeah. The elephant in the room. Quickly, Leo diverts his attention to the injured rival, unarmed hand clamped onto his waist, wasting no time to hoist him up and it surprises him how little effort he needed doing so. Strangely, he feels soft.

He assesses the damage, noting the hesitant sway of Ronin’s footing (likely concussed from being thrown like a baseball) and how undeniably gruesome the cut looks, oozing thick red from his head, now that he’s examining it up close. 

Taking the time to really look at him, Leo finds a couple things interesting. Namely, the cloak. Instead of cloaking his entire body like a brooding vampire, it’s brushed past his shoulders, revealing a traditional Japanese clothing with slight modifications. The caked dirt and dried blood doesn’t offer a friendly welcome, and it doesn’t help that the faded blue insinuates how he’s been through hell and back multiple times. He doesn’t miss how the cloaking broach shines under the pale moonlight, nor how there’s a teared strip that no one but he knows the reason why. 

It’s a nice change, Leo infers.

Immediately pulling himself away, Ronin tears away from Leo’s gentle grasps, backing away from the Hamato twins like a wild animal, cautiously eyeing him and Donnie and the knocked out Foot ninja. He’s breathing heavier than usual. Looking down, Leo notices a relatively small, but sharp pocketknife fitted between Ronin’s trembling clutch. “I had them where I wanted,” Ronin growled.

“And you almost got your ass handed to you. Again,” Leo reminds, giving the samurai a bored look. “We have got to stop meeting up like this.”

Besides, Donnie whips his head to him, looking incredulously and mouthing, “Again?”

Leo crosses his arms. “You should be thanking me, I basically did you a favor. Think of it as one less problem to worry about.” Comedically timed, a plethora of footsteps come charging towards the three of them, ones light and agile which Leo confirms that maybe, just maybe, he kind of overdid it with the whole ‘saving the damsel, who in actuality, might not have needed saving, from distress scenario’. The slider gulps; the softshell grits his teeth; the samurai glares at him. 

“You fool! Look at what you did. Now we have more to worry about,” Ronin emphasizes. The swarming crowd of Foot ninjas come inching closer, forcing them to stand back to back. In unison, they all unsheathe their designated weapons.

“I concur,” Donnie says, clear and monotone. A series of rapid typing follows from his wrist gauntlet, before he slams on his Hamato button. It illuminates a soft green glow. “My statistics show that we’re against dozens, and that’s excluding the ones making their way here. In short, we’re screwed if we don’t find a way out of this.”

A dramatically loud groan echoes from Leo, now actively avoiding two glares. “Look, I thought I was doing something, okay!? Geez. I didn’t think I’d attract, what? A whole army. Pity a guy, won’t ‘cha?”

Obviously outnumbered and with the Foot closing in on them, Donnie monotonically replies, “Do we have to work with him?” It would be funny watching his twin whine like a stubborn baby goat, but he’s got a couple bad guys to beat up.

“Would you rather we deal with two pieces of shits, or team up with one for now,” Leo suggests. Loud clashes and injured groans from the opposite side answered his question, but Leo’s pretty sure he heard a begrudging tch in the middle of it all.

Ronin nudges his shoulder. “Could you imagine us working together?”

“Absolute nightmare material,” Leo fake shivers.

“How can you trust him, Leo?” Donnie urges. “Have you seen the atrocities this man has done? He literally stole one of the artefacts and-”

Tired of simultaneously doing two things at once, Leo barely knocks out one of the Foot ninjas before exclaiming, “I just do, okay!?” 

The casual question amidst the violent scene gives him a funny feeling. Not because of the absurdity of it or the fact that he’s done it so many times he’s lost count (he’s almost an adult now, but the fact that he’s done fought criminals as a side hustle years prior, makes him slightly disturbed), but because he was standing in Donnie’s place once. 

“Do you trust me?”

“Barely. But it’s a great contrast to trusting a wanted criminal.”

“Then trust me when I say that he won’t backstab us.” 

Looking into Donnie’s unsure gaze, Leo reassures him with a determined look. He doesn’t look entirely convinced, but at least he’s somewhat helping Ronin fend off any unsuspecting ninja star throws or origami attacks. 

And funny enough, Leo himself doesn’t trust the words coming out of his mouth. Not at all. Every time he’s within the samurai’s radius, he gets the chills that kill, immediately aware of movement the other makes, even while he’s throwing jokes at his face. Perhaps fate got bored of watching the same scenes replay, deciding on switching it up; circumstances change, perspectives on right and wrong shift.

“You two are far from the list of people I imagined dying with. And I despise one of you,” Ronin barely gets out the sentence. 

He grunts at one the Foot clashing their weapons at him, seemingly struggling to retain composure. As expected, Ronin trips over, one leg propping himself up before immediately defending the oncoming blow. Thick drops of sweat creep past his fur, creating a nauseating metallic scent from the fresh blood overlapping the dried ones.

“Hypothetically speaking, our death rates are scaling at a relatively low twenty-eight percent. But I’d rather leave this fight unharmed, preferably without any major injuries,” Donnie sneers. His eyes widened by a smidge, ducking at a couple paper ninja stars thrown.

Pressing whatever complicated buttons integrated onto his bo-staff, a comically large hammer summons from the end of the staff. Not without a heroic yelp, Donnie’s weapon meets with a trio of unlucky Foot ninjas collectively panicked, connecting the base of his hammer with their bodies.

The force of it sends them flying towards a transport container. A mass of gold and silver immediately spills out of the busted hole.

“Since we’re being honest here,” Leo pipes out. Benching his current opponents, he makes an effort to help Ronin fend off the unwarranted attack, defending with little strain in contrast. Somehow from his position, Ronin extends his leg out and trips the charging Foot, preventing the sudden attack aimed at dicing Leo’s neck. “If I were in a life or death situation, personally, I always hoped that my final moments would be being buried alive with a heap ton of pineapple pizza with you. Not just a couple boxes. I’m talking mountains. ”

Ronin curiously looks at Leo’s outstretched hand. It takes a while for Ronin to decide, unashamed to show his skepticism and Leo understands that logic. Afterall, it wasn’t a once-a-upon-a-time long ago when he threatened the samurai with his own katana, instead of a helping hand. 

To Leo’s surprise, he feels a gloved palm weakly wrap around his.

“As oddly honoring as that may sound, I wouldn't like my death to be the result of mozzarella suffocation. Especially knowing what your favorite is, thank you very much.”

“Don’t be a hater, Don. You hear that, Ronin? Don’t be a Donnie.”

“Oh for Pete’s sake, pineapple on pizza is equivalent to a death penalty-”

“How am I a part of this conversation?”

With that, the remaining lot of ninjas sensed their impending demise, quickly gathering themselves and abandoning their fallen counterparts. And with hilarious timing, Raph and Mikey enter the battleground with nun-chucks tightened and tonfas grappled, only to be met with the moans and groans of beaten-up Foot ninjas toppled on top of each other.

Dusting his palms, Leo strides towards the sunset duo, nestling his arms behind his head, Donnie tailing behind. Once again, Raph grips onto him, yanking him away. 

“What do you plan to do with my brothers?” Raph demands. He steps in front of his brothers, shielding them from whatever attacks may come from the critically injured samurai. 

“Swear on our momma that you won’t be mad at me,” Leo says quickly.

“We don’t have one,” Donnie says unamusingly. Following up, Mikey pipes in as if it was any better. “ But we have two dads.” 

“Raph’s anger is reaching a boiling point.”

“He’s with us. For now, at least,” Leo waves a dismissive hand at Raph’s overprotectiveness. Despite not fully trusting him, Leo at least has the decency to look like he’s cool with his enemy tagging along. 

Raph doesn’t look convinced. “He could backstab us anytime, Leo.”

“But he didn’t. If he didn’t help us, we would’ve been turtle soup . Get it?” 

Elbowing an obviously tired Donnie that has heard his awful jokes one too many times, Raph glowers at the wanted criminal. Whether Ronin’s staring at the piles of gold because he found something interesting or to simply avoid Raph’s glare, Leo might never know, but he doesn’t blame him if it’s the latter. He does that all the time. “Can't you at least be, I dunno. Discreet about it? You’re making him even scared of you dude.”

"Good."

He throws his head back and groans. Bringing a hand to cover his mouth, Leo lifts from his heel to talk into Raph’s ear. “Remember the thing dad said after Usagi came over? Blah blah keep your enemy's closer blah blah. Look. I know you hate him, who doesn’t? But, isn’t it better to keep him close? Hm? That way, we’ll know if he’s pulling any funny tricks.”

A rough tch rolls out of the snapping alligator’s mouth, slowly turning his back against them. “He’s staying at the very back. Got it?”

“Yessire!” Leo salutes. 

But a persuasive persona could only get Leo this far. Deep inside, he’s feeling anything but confident. He can’t help but want Raph to give him a playful punch to the shoulder, even to lock his head in a noogie, like he usually would. Anything to show that he’s doing something right. Just anything. 

So he resorts to his last method, begging for his older to turn around please just turn around in his mind. Because an encouraging look would be really appreciated now.

But Raph doesn’t.

He just keeps walking forth, prickly tail swaying to the beat of his slow steps, pre-occupied by a rambling Donnie. Thankfully, Mikey breaks him out of his spiral, cheerfully springing towards him. The younger mutant bumps his shoulder against Leo. 

“Why, if it isn’t the one and only Mikester?” Leo musters up the energy to match Mikey’s attitude, lest he finds out why he’s so tired so soon. His arm hugs Mikey’s shell. “Any news for your favourite, most charming, obviously better, older brother?”

Laughing at his theatrics, Mikey shrugs away Leo’s hold. “Yeah, actually! Raph and I were just hanging out back, when we saw a bunch of those Foot people coming in and out from it. I mean, none of the storage tank things hid what we’re looking for, so that must be the place we should go next!” 

“Aw sick. Good eye,” Leo praises. 

His eyes crinkle at how such a simple compliment brought out literal stars from his younger brother. With a hushed voice and a pointed finger, Leo lowers his head. Mikey stood closer to him. “Why don’t you tell those slow pokes ahead of us to speed things up, yeah?” Mikey gives him a sceptical look, before he settles on a prolonged stare at Ronin, wordlessly filling in the blanks for Leo. The slider clamps a hand on Mikey’s shoulder, grinning, “and don’t you worry about me. If he tries anything funny, I’ll knock some sense into him.”

Believing in every word, Mikey bounces away and forcefully squeezes himself between Raph and Donnie. Leo drops the act.

Finally, some peace and quiet. Speaking of which…

“What’cha got there?” Leo light-heartedly questions. The rummaging in Ronin’s pocket stops.

“I thought I told you to stay away from me,” Ronin ignores the question entirely. Especially with the metal mask, it takes Leo a while to decipher the message. “Or do you lack the ability to understand warnings too?”

The both of them trail behind the remaining brothers. Not a concerningly far amount, he wouldn’t even dream of goofing at a time like this; not when Raph’s a step away from benching him. But it’s enough where the two of them can share a private conversation. “Ouch, and this is what I get after vouching your ass? So cold…”

“Maybe that’s a sign. You have done nothing but make my life more miserable,” Ronin harshly whispers. “I’m surprised your brothers even let you join m-”

A foot stomps on Ronin’s. The sudden attack leaves him hopping on a leg, hissing at the stinging pain. Recovering almost immediately, Ronin looks back at the three turtles walking in front, then back at Leo’s sheepish grin. Something clicks in his head.

“You didn’t tell them!?”

“Sh!” Leo pressed a finger between his lips. “Not so loud! I didn’t have the balls to, okay??”

“They’re your family.”

“It’s hard, dude. I do want to, but. Argh. The timing was just… never right.”

And Raph never seemed to agree on anything I suggested, Leo wanted to add. 

He inwardly sighs. The thought alone kind of sours the mood; it’s not something he can easily brush away. He knows that everyone’s been tiptoeing around the subject, and he hates how increasingly difficult it’s been to even share a laugh with his older brother without feeling so. Suffocated? Exhausted? 

After a couple awkward beats of silence, Leo blinks at Ronin’s closed fist in front of him. He looks at him incredulously. 

“Are you going to answer my question without being discreet?” Leo decides, gladly moving away from the previous conversation. Ronin looks away, fingers fidgeting around something inside his pant pocket.

“Perhaps,” Ronin shrugged. The samurai’s gloved hand unraveled like a blooming flower. Sandwiched between his fingertips, laid a ring. A ruby red ring. One most likely stolen when everyone had their eyes elsewhere. “But I have something else far more interesting.”

It’s kind of alluring in a way. How the rich red looks even more enchanting, shimmering and twinkling beneath the moonlight’s basking glow. It looks neither thick or thin, feminine nor masculine, but rather somewhere in-between. Elegantly combined with a gold band, the probability that it costs more than him and his brother’s net worth combined, is strikingly high. Funnily enough, it reminds him of the flower he gave-

No. He needs his mind to focus elsewhere.

So, he puts his focus somewhere far more important, unimpressively waiting for Ronin to explain himself.

The wanted criminal twirls the hypnotizing jewelry towards his own face, closely inspecting it. “I didn’t think I would find one of the most beautiful things among the gold tonight,” Ronin says in a low, husky tone. In one swift motion, he peels Leo’s tense fist, plotting the overpriced jewel in the slider’s hands, knowing it’ll never be as priceless as Leo’s stunned look. “But then I also found this old ring,” Ronin nonchalantly mentions. 

The change of voice sends ripples down Leo’s spine. It sends an uncomfortable feeling; uneasy. Invasiveness. And he’d appreciate it if he didn’t feel like he was being assessed under a microscope. 

Lightly skipping on his feet, Ronin turns to face Leo. The samurai amusingly raises his brows. Even with a metal guard masking the lower half of his face, those lethal red eyes don’t shy away the overconfident seeping. “Try to keep up, kappa. I can’t keep winning all the time.”

Leo grinds on his teeth.

What a dick. He can’t just say that then dip.

-

“Are we there yet?”

“As much as I appreciate your continuous verbal suggestions, you are testing my patience, Mikey,” Donnie gripes. He stretches his neck outward (Leo finds it unbelievably hilarious how he looks like a reptilian giraffe), looking both sides before sharply turning right. 

It’s been a couple minutes of just hiding in the shadows, walking, and hiding away from now high-alert Foot ninjas. They aren’t necessarily making the speediest of progress, occasionally taking microsecond breaks for Donnie to quadruple check where they were, but that just could be because of their unlikely one-sided alliance joining their team. Leo’s leg bounces every time they do make a stop, his shoulders bunched together. Not that he can do anything else to stop feeling agitated. Personally, he wishes they would speed things up a bit, partially because of his unresolved impulsive tendency, but mostly because the towering metal alien hovering behind feeling actually intimidating.

Donnie, on the other hand, eases the tenseness accumulated behind his shielded shell, markings on his shoulders droop. “And fear not, your worries are unnecessary when in the presence of my high quality tracking technology. And me. Amidst the earth-shattering battle shared with my lesser twin and the Hidden City’s most renowned criminal, my instinctual response managed to attach a duplicate of my tracking device behind our common enemy.”

With a series of blank stares responded, Donnie exaggeratedly sighs. “I slipped a tracker on one of the escaped Foot ninjas.”

A series of “oh’s” quietly echoed.

“Huh. Smart thinking,” Raph applauds.

“That sounds very… intricate,” Ronin pipes in. “It’s quite impressive.”

“It’s whatever,” Donnie grumbles, forcing down his mouth curling upwards. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting a reply, let alone a compliment from an enemy.

Leo simply rolls his eyes at Donnie’s overuse of complicated words.

“You don’t have to worry about when we’ll be arriving,” Donnie smirks. Abruptly, he stops, leaning against the wall. Everyone copies him. “Because we’re here.”

“Aw yeah, baby! Finally!” Mikey cheers. Receiving a playful look from Raph, Mikey sinks his head past his shoulders, cheering again but quieter. 

Following what everyone is doing, Leo peaks his head past the wall of metal. Judging by how heavily guarded both open ended entrances are, this was going to be a doozy.

In video game terminology, one may call this the ‘Foot Clan respawn spot’, seeing how the majority of them were already camping inside the warehouse. The rectangular blocks of artificial light slowly swing above, eye straining white emitting a sickly appearance on the Foot ninjas. Some of them could be seen making small talk, others idly sharpening their weapons, and very few carrying taped boxes further inside.

They turn away.

“We need a distraction,” Leo suggests. He was going to take a gamble, but if someone caused a ruckus in the heavily guarded front, then surely, the back would be left vulnerable.

After going back and forth with the newly adapted plan, Raph summons his tonfas. “Alright, it’s settled.” Without hesitation, he shoves the injured samurai forward. The samurai harbors nothing more than annoyance. “He should go first. So if he mucks up, then we won’t take the fall.”

“There’s no way we’re gonna let him go alone,” Mikey brings up. Right on que, Donnie shuffles closer to everyone, bringing up a hand to cup his mouth, “Read my mind, Raph. Good thinking, 'Angelo. But then again, we can’t just let him take it and run. Two of us joining him is highly recommended, but unfortunately is way too risky. We’ll get caught right away. Game over. Therefore: who would like to sacrifice themselves for the greater good?”

To the surprise of nobody at all, not a single hand raises; the crickets chirp louder by the sidelines.

But Raph’s refusal to put his differences aside was going to make cooperating a whole lot more difficult, his stubbornness likely to jeopardize the whole mission. Volunteering Donnie sounds plausible, he’s got the skills that pay the bills, but he already feels bad for ghosting him to ask (he’s not a monster, he’s not a monster ), and the thought of pairing Mikey to scout with the samurai made him nervous. Which led to one definite conclusion - one Leo wasn’t happy with, but is obviously needed to be said.

“Yeah yeah, we’ll make it quick,” Leo duly hums. “I’ll signal you if I do spot it.”

“You better,” Raph stresses.

He whispers something to Mikey and Donnie, pointing at the heads of the two positioned ninjas guarded in front. The youngest bobs his head enthusiastically, whilst the twin shoots a thumbs up. 

The sunset duo charges headfirst while Donnie sneaks up within the shadows. The roaring “HOT SOUUP”, was enough to startle the masked ninjas, evidently shocked and painfully unprepared by the unprecedented blows. One of the ninjas calls out for help, their cries cut short by Donnie’s staff. The trio arm themselves again, readying for the next wave of attacks.

It’s show time.

While that’s playing out, the both of them race to another container, pausing periodically lest they get caught with Ronin lagging not far behind. They repeat the routine until they arrive on the other side. As predicted, there was a huge contrast in terms of Foot ninjas’ attending the back, the majority assumingly fending the battle in front.

Looking at him sternly, Ronin nods at him. The samurai leaves without the red-eared slider ordering anything more, simply becoming one with the shadows on the left side. Leo runs to the right side. 

It didn’t take long for the guarded ninjas to drop unconscious, now sound asleep and unaware of the following events, expected to wake up with a nasty bruise on the side of their heads. Leo cracked both sides of his neck, relieving the crick. He can’t say that he feels much sympathy for them. They did steal something valuable from him, so he supposes this is karma. Really taking in the view of the warehouse felt claustrophobic at best. Stretched all the way to the back, an abundance of large, flat, and heavy boxes were compiled, causing a head spinning effect. He didn't like how the very back casted with pitch black shadows. No matter.

Wasting no time, Leo and Ronin split off to their respective pile of boxes mounted upon each other. Their katanas ruthlessly stabbed into the taped cardboard lined with precision, shredding it open without hesitation. After all, time was ticking.

Leo doesn’t even register how long they’ve been, well, demolishing the boxes open. Most of it was just uniforms and back-up weapons. But by iron will alone, his sluggish fingers touched something cool and metal. 

Immediately, he hungrily dug past the bubble wrap protecting the contents inside. No, it can’t be, he reasoned. It was a weird want-and-not relationship. How his left brain desperately kept a reminder in the back of his head, ringing and badgering, assuring that the artefact he was looking for was long gone from his grasp, only for his right to beg him to keep going just a bit longer. But he can’t help it. It was the only way to prevent himself from feeling too down when it was anything but that. 

And boy was he glad that the logical side of him was wrong.

Sitting cross-legged, he barks an incredulous laugh. Everything seemed so surreal. It makes him wonder if the icy touch of the unscathed incense bell was his mind’s doing, finally reunited with his scarred palms. 

“Or maybe it’s just you. Maybe you’ve finally lost it,” that rusty voice echoes in the back of his mind. Leo shakes it away. It’s real. It’s tangible and insanely cold and so very real. What he’s not going to do, is let that stupid junk of metal ruin this moment for him.

Far too engrossed with his momentary happiness, it seemed like he forgot something else too. Soft shuffling steps make their way to him, accompanied by the faint stench of gasoline and gunpowder.

Ronin reaches a hand towards him. Instinctually, Leo hugs the incense brass bell closer to his chest, dangerously pointing his katana at the samurai. The ring hugs around his middle finger. Calm and unaffected, he continues moving forward to an unnaturally still Leo, pushing down his katana.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“Should I be?” His arm shakes as Ronin takes a step closer.

Then he does the unexpected.

Instead of sitting at Leo’s opposite, the samurai makes an effort to sit beside him. He turns to directly look at him. Raising his hand, he hesitates before ultimately settling to wipe Leo’s cheek. If it weren’t for the ridiculously straining light, then Leo would’ve missed the dabble of red mixed with the leather glove. It looks like it’ll stain.

“From the fight, earlier. You got hurt and didn’t notice,” Ronin explains. His eyes shy away, opting to hide under his hood.

Leo chuckles unsurely. “Thanks?” 

Ronin nods.

And Leo realizes how it’s a bit funny. How collective yet skittish, Ronin is. Aloof, yet caring in his own strange ways. And he knows, he knows he shouldn’t think about Usagi that often, because people with crushes do that all the time and he did not have one. 

But it’s a little funny- ok. It’s pretty funny how little fragments of Ronin remind him of Usagi. How he lets go of that stupid persona even for a second. Especially how endearing he is trying to protect Leo from whatever enemy. Which is kind of weird, because isn’t the point of this whole rivalry that he hates Leo and Leo hates-

Spluttering, Ronin turns his head away. Tilting his head, Leo walks closer to look at the samurai’s face. “I’ve told you countless times, I’m not your enemy.”

Leo slaps a hand over his mouth. Shit. He said that out loud, didn’t he?

The masterless samurai quickly gets up, wincing at the tender bruises while dusting himself. Caught up in trying to cover up his act, Leo’s hand waved away what he said earlier, he was far too busy to notice Ronin’s indecisive decision to lend him a hand, opting to rest on the handle of his sheathed katana. Oh, and the third set of footsteps ploughing towards them. Ronin’s eyes sharpen. 

It all happened so quickly. A set of ninja stars were thrown without warning, aimed at Leo’s clutched incense bell. Whatever they were trying to accomplish, it worked. Now hugging his nicked hand, the golden bell clattered to the floor, only to be snatched by a Foot ninja.

Before he could even leave, he instantly backed away from the wall of flames. The fiery blaze swallowed up the wooden infrastructure, ultimately trapping them inside. 

The slider coughs, clearly having trouble taking long breaths. Scavenging a way out of the hazy smoke was far more difficult than he originally anticipated, especially when he feels like he's being cooked in an oven. “Eugh boy, this is really not looking good. I mean, I could always ring up Raph-a-doodle, but that’s gonna take a while.” For once, he slams onto the Hamato button. “How are we gonna get out of this one!? Ronin? Got any ideas to spare-”

Ronin was completely unresponsive to him. Instead, his eyes moved quicker than his rock solid body, darting all over the scorching heat. His breathing became increasingly ragged. Was it because of the lack of oxygen or something else, Leo unfortunately doesn’t know. 

He wished he did.

And he also wished that Raph would send him back a message to confirm that yep, he was available to lend a hand, instead of punching a hole in the wall in his super sized form and just grabbing them out like overgrown weeds.

-

One moment they were having idle chit chat. The next, Usagi’s being man-handled by a giant snapping alligator, diving head first towards him. 

And Usagi doesn’t quite understand why Leo quickly hurries over to rescue him from an anger-ridden Raph, who is a thread away from snapping and pummelling him flat, when he despises him. Apparently a lot. He doesn’t even know why, if he’s being perfectly honest. Confused about the whole situation, Leo shakes Raph’s shoulder. “Dude, what the hell!?” 

“You were supposed to protect him,” Raph snarls at him, ignoring Leo. 

Usagi visibly shrinks away from the iron grip seizing his cloak, pushing himself away, trying to put some sort of distance between them. It’s no use.

He can smell pure rage seeping out of the other’s snaggle toothed snout. But he can also smell burnt wood trailing from inside the warehouse, merely steps away from feeling more than just the unbearable heat, watching the starry night sky become engulfed by stifling smoke. The thick grey drowned out his vision, and all he could think of was run. 

But where to? There wasn’t a home he could return to.

His throat clogged with an uncomfortable swell in his throat with tightness, but not from inhaling ashy flakes.

“Whu- no! No! You’ve got it all wrong,” Leo emphasizes. Prying open his older brother’s deathly strong grip away from Ronin’s chest looks just as hard as it is done. “Get off my case, Raph. I’m serious. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

Raph gives him a look of disbelief. “So he wasn’t hurting you?”

“No! He didn’t set the warehouse on fire,” a hand buried behind his signature stripes. Most likely dying from guilt and embarrassment.

Taking the opportunity, Usagi used most of his strength to kick himself up, foot connecting with Raph’s snout. He can feel bad about it later when he’s not Ronin. Yelping in pain, he quickly sprung away from Raph’s hold and hoppled away. Part of him wasn’t sure why Leo didn’t bother chasing him like he usually did. He hadn’t had a problem hunting him down, so why now?

So he thought nothing of it when Leo shot him a regretful, pitiful look, before he snuck into the shadows and took refuge behind a storage container. He forced himself to control his racing heart, planting his hand over his chest in an effort to slow his breathing. Usagi squeezed his eyes shut. Dangerously gripping his scarred right arm, praying that the phantom pain would end.

It was stupid that he was overreacting to something so insignificant. It was just fire. A fiery burst swallowing anything in its path, but one that’ll eventually pass. And it didn’t make sense how it affected him that badly, he should be reacting the opposite, considering how something similar happened ages ago. Happened years prior. Years after Hana got trapped under that…

He dug his fingers deep into his palm. The sound of his gloves tightened, squeezing from the intense pressure. It didn’t do much damage, but the unpleasant feeling was enough to snap him out of his self-pitying.

From behind, his hearing picked up another set of footsteps joining Leo and Raph, voices mixed with the cackling flames. And luckily for him, it wasn’t hard to tell who was the monotone voiced one, and who had an upbeat cheer. Usagi was grateful for these small mercies.

Usagi slumped his head back, body stiff, arm still clutched. He listened in.

“...Where are they now?” 

“A couple feet away. If we’re fast enough, we still have time to retrieve the artefact,” a monotonous voice responded. It’s usual hint of sarcasm now replaced by sternness.

“Where did he go,” a commanding pleads, voice ragged and tired of beating around the bush. “Point to me, Mikey.” Usagi huffs. He recognizes that voice. Yeah, that’s definitely Leo.

He closes his eyes. Imagining a slightly roughed up box-shell turtle pointing at the distance. Envisioning them making an effort to chase after the group of Foot ninjas’ that managed to flee the scene, when Mikey says, “The one with a busted shoulder. Their uniform is torn all over, can’t miss it.”

“They’re heading to a dead end,” a rough, gravely voice mentions. “Alright team, we gotta tackle them by…”

And that’s all Usagi needed to know. Limping towards the battle without rush, Usagi transferred his weight onto his other leg, peeping from behind a storage tank. And sure enough, they were winning against the odds. Seems like the Hamato brothers had everything handled from the very start, and it seems like they didn’t need his help. 

Usagi looks a little further up, wondering where the beacon of light was coming from. And well, he’ll be damned. With the guarded officers making their way over to the messy battle, it left the gates unguarded for a brief period of time. Kind fo stupid, if you ask Usagi, as he observed how both sides of the large gate laid open, welcoming his impulsive urges to make a run for it. 

Because how could he reel into them? 

It didn’t matter that he had no destination in mind, getting out of the Hidden City was a must. He felt too much of an outsider among yokai, a stranger to heroes and even more among criminals. 

And as painful as it may be, Leo was right. All day and night, he could deny the hurtful nickname all he wanted. But he knew the ugly truth behind that sugar coated lie far too well: he’ll forever remain a ronin. A samurai with an erased history, wandering endlessly, turning his head away from the eternal hunger for friends and family. The cruel loneliness punishing his betrayal of Neo Edo, was what he deserved.

He staggered away from the fight. At least in the human world, he wouldn’t have to worry about evading high level security, the broach pretty much does most of the heavy lifting. And that was what he was going to do. The coast was clear, and the opportunity begged to be seized.

This is, until he heard a pained grunt.

Looking past the crowded storage containers one final time, Usagi’s eyes widened. He’s glad that he did. Each brother was fighting off a particular enemy, holding up their ground quite well, Leo not being an exception. But Usagi could tell that he’s at his wit's end. 

It was simple, really. Starting off from the way Leo’s usual silly catchphrases diminished to hungry gasps for air, swaying as he desperately tried to fight off the Foot ninjas, even in his tired state. Honestly, he doesn’t know whether it’s sad to watch him swing painfully slow and still miss. 

Indecisively, Usagi looked back at the gate’s entrance, then at Leo. Because really, it was a simple choice to make. He should know the right answer.

But he’s not so sure anymore. Not when he’s staring at an overly exhausted Leo, hunched over to catch his breath with a Foot ninja aiming to strike down on his shell. Inside his pocket, he feels something circular, smooth, and cool to the touch, instantly remembering the device he stole before the jail incident.

Usagi may deserve a bad ending to his story, but that doesn’t mean Leo does.

“Fuck,” he curses, charging head first and unbothered to spare another glance at the exit. He doesn’t want to regret this even more than he already does. Leaving himself no time to mentally and physically prepare, he makes a painstaking realisation to how close the distance is between him and the duo. But it doesn’t beat his even more horrified realisation to find his katana missing from his side, presumably dropped behind. 

So he chose the next available option.

-

Maybe he actually did hit his head along the way, Leo considers. Maybe he was hallucinating all this time.

He wouldn’t necessarily be too surprised, as concerning as it may sound. Aside from dealing with the inside jokes about him being dropped on the head as a kid (hopes Donnie’s lying), numerous blows to the head are prone to leave everlasting effects, but who really knows. He doesn’t know if that’s applicable to genetically mutated turtles. In all seriousness, the reason why he’s thinking the way he is, was simply followed up by a series of unappealing events. 

First, the Krang suddenly decided one day to make his life even worse than it already is, then Raph became ridiculously overprotective of him. And now, Ronin’s punching the ninja square in the face.

Expectedly, the Foot drops dead, knocked out from the mean packed fist. Ronin shakes away the abrupt flare of pain from his knuckles.

All Leo could do was gape his mouth. It was such a shocker to see him steer away from that uncaring, calculative, exterior. Because within that moment, the samurai was anything but that. 

Leo wanted to say a cocky remark. Something, anything. But the unsteady buckle settled in his knees, forcing his mind to focus elsewhere, threatening his body a warm invitation to smashing head first onto the ground. Thankfully, Ronin caught the memo. A strong hold held him upwards, helping him regain his footing, and he feels like he should apologise and get out of his fur. But he can’t.

Predictably so, tiredness doesn’t escape the clutches of anyone. The lulling ache seeps into his bones, making his mind feel like the sad jello puddle Mikey tried making for the first time, and he wants to be anywhere but here.

Ronin’s still acting as his pillar, following where Leo tells him to go, and Leo can’t believe he’s saying how grateful he is for the samurai’s help. 

If he remembers, he’ll thank him. But for now, conserving energy was his primary focus. They slowly walk past the wall of flames, softly flickering and dying out. He feels the hands wrapped around his waist tense. And when he sees Ronin dig into his pocket, the small part of him felt intrigued. Excited to see what he has in store. So Leo eagerly waited, not bothered to complain when the samurai let go of him, watching him walk in front of him. He frowned.

He was so caught up with himself, that he didn’t even register Ronin’s state. Covered in grime from his wounded head to his badly bruised leg, the half-lidded criminal limped towards him, clearly not doing any better than him. In fact, he seemed to have it worse. 

Finally retrieving his hand away from his pocket, he uses his other hand to grab Leo’s shoulder in case he escapes. Confused, he tilts his head. There wasn’t anything that could make him want to run away, not after he’s done so much to help him-

What is he doing.

That wasn’t a question simply out of uncertainty. He knew damn well what Ronin was doing and didn’t like it. At all. But by the time he realised the gravity of the situation, the Hamato escape pod had already outstretched itself and caged around him, preparing for take off. It was too late.

Leo repeatedly banged against the metal separating them, using his shoulder to push against it, uncaring whether it’ll worsen the bruise. The internal engine begins to power up.

No. This can’t happen again. “Let me out!” He punched again. And again. "Ronin!"

Nothing responded. Instead of replying to Leo’s angered pleas, Ronin placed a hand over the small window, mirroring where Leo placed his hand. He had a sympathetic look that felt too empathetic for a wanted criminal, making him even more pissed. It wasn’t fair, Leo furrowed his brows, none of this is fair.

But nothing was fair. His escape pod immediately blasted off into the dark abyss of a night sky, travelling past the bustling festivities of the Hidden City, swarmed by bright lights of street markets and civilians unaffected by the chaos up ahead. Protecting himself from everyone but his own mind.

And shared under that midnight blue sky, a wounded samurai tried to stand upward. He coughed thickly. Bringing a hand under his mask, he grimaced at the thin, sticky red spread across his fingertips. Yikes. That’s not good. So he staggers away as fast as he could, which is incredibly slow for anyone’s standards and even slower for him. But it is what it is. It’s better than just letting fate control him. And decidedly, he thinks taking matters into his own hands is better than waiting for the Hidden City police department to sack him with a room full of Foot ninjas.

-

There’s a funny trick to pain.

It’s something someone as misfortune as him has to grasp early on, if he ever wanted to survive the unforgiving lands. By far it wasn’t easy to learn that not everyone could, or would, lend a helping hand at the most dire circumstances. Believe him, Usagi tried. 

Unbothered whether he knocked over an ancient vase, or ungracefully stumbled into the bathroom, it was safe to say that Usagi had successfully crash-landed into his hideout. Little things like that weren’t important. Attending his once profusely bleeding head and other plethora of injuries, in contrast, was.

With much strain, Usagi dug into his bag for the white box with a green cross. He stripped open the first aid kit generously crafted by Hueso. A handsome roll of wound dressing, a half used bottle of rubbing alcohol, and a couple Hello Kitty band-aids. 

It wasn’t much, but that’s what he gets for barging into the diner half wounded, half on death's door, after a night out gone wrong.

His hideout was miles away from aesthetically pleasing. Unless you count a neglected and unapproachable caravan to be. After involuntarily ditching the homeless shelter, it was a no-brainer how limited he was in terms of options. He needed a place to stay that wouldn’t bring much attention to him, cost fairly cheap, and had a good shower system. All in which it was quite difficult to attain. Which was why it felt like a miracle sent from the Gods above when he even found such a great deal of a place to stay.

All the while he avoids the main issue, Usagi begins patching the little wounds. Judging by how all the windows were smashed and leather seats torn, he wasn’t the first to camp there, and he most certainly won’t be the last. Everything inside and out looked so chaotic, not a hint of stability present within the madness. So maybe that’s why Usagi felt safer staying there for a night more. 

Which stretched into a week more. Only because he didn’t have the heart to stumble to Huseo’s front porch battered and bruised. He didn’t need to know.

Assessing his wound with the shattered mirror, made his stomach churn. The head was fine, all that was needed were butterfly stitches, most likely leaving a scar stretched through his brow. His knee however, was a different story. There weren’t any deep gashes or ninja star slashes, so open wound injuries were ticked off the list. But it did look funny, angled in an awkward way that didn’t look walkable. He wasn’t Leo, who had several years of medical knowledge and training, but he knew that if his vision whitened from grazing it, then yes, it’s probably dislocated. Which also meant a definite yes to resetting it back in place. By himself.

The thought of that sends shivers down his spine.

To make things easier, his hand skipped over the medical tape and chose the cotton bandage, hoping the pressure would help decrease the pain. Usagi impatiently yanks off his gloved hand, staring at the bumpy scar riding towards the face of his palm. He snaps his head away before he could see how bad it truly looked, positioning both of them by his knee, but the memory leaves an acrid taste in the back of his throat.

Being able to foresee the future gifted him a huge advantage. Asking him how he got said ability would be like going on autopilot while finishing up an incredibly mundane task - he didn’t know how it happened, but to trust him when he says something big did.

He just happened to be guarding the Ki-stone at the wrong place and wrong time, unfortunately all alone and too understimulated to do nothing while Gen went on lunch break. Then he had a brilliant idea to blow off some steam. All because he decided to fake spar with the large red crystal, he ended up with a chipped piece of it lying in his hand and a horrified look on his face, within the span of fifteen seconds. 

It wasn’t a huge piece; the shard was dainty, small, and barely made a difference. But it was still a pretty big deal.

“I’ll deal with it later,” Usagi thought to himself, shoving it in his pocket upon seeing Gen’s arrival. That’s what he thinks to himself while clutching onto the sharp crystal in his fist. “I’ll patch it up in no time. No one’s going to know.”

And he was right. Not a single soul suspected a thing, not even Karasu-Tengu, his sensei at the time, thought of anything out of the ordinary. By the time he had the tiny moment to spare for himself, he quickly pulled out his hand, attempting to figure out how to fix the shit he caused and where it’s supposed to fit. But that time never came. Gen asked what was up with his trembling hand, and all Usagi could say was that he, “got it from Karasu-Tengu’s training,” too embarrassed to say that a magical crystal somehow merged into his palm. Even more to admit that he somehow knew what his best friend was going to say, when he hadn’t even said it.

And look where it got him. Badly injured from a fight that wasn’t his, deeply homesick, and a mind bombarded with his new ability’s side-effects. What a lovely combination.

Don’t get him twisted. Usagi was thrilled knowing that he could predict what Leo’s next punchline would be, or what attacks came swinging next, even though those glimpses into the future were only momentary fragments. But even he couldn’t predict the state he would’ve wound up in.

Usagi tries to set it without a countdown and nope. Nope nope nope. Biting onto his tongue, his hand inclined to retract, a whine slipping out of his throat.

Looks like he’ll have to find a way to calm himself down if he wants to get it over and done with. But how exactly? The breathes are coming more in than out and he can’t think clearly. No one really taught him what to do in a situation like this, more because there wasn’t a need to, aside from the usual twisted ankle or gnarly injuries. 

Nothing bad ever happens in Neo Edo. But there’s a first time for everything, and Usagi’s the splitting reason why his homeland is forever immortalised in history books, no longer thriving on the lush grasslands.

His breaths come out raspy and strained. He’ll admit, it’s been a while since he’s been this stumped. That is, until he remembers a conversation shared between him and Leo in the garbage dump. It was such an insignificant mention; the question he asked simply sprung out of the blue to cure the awkwardness bred from the insufferable silence. And yet, he recalls it word for word.

“That ‘ol thing? Psh. Just a breathing technique me and my twin use. Calms down the nerves, y'know?"

What was it called again? Usagi can't really remember, but he knows the general jist of it. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath in. Held it for five beats. Then out. He would try seven beats, but even that was too hard for him. He forces his shoulders to relax, copying how Leo crossed his arms, slowly fluttering them against his plastron like a butterfly.

And strangely enough, he does feel better after repeating it for a while. With a pounding headache worsening by the second, layered on with dry eyes, Usagi thinks of it as a win. At least he can think more clearly.

So he tries again. And this time, he feels more calm and prepared. Wringing and twisting the shirt Leo gifted him ages ago until it’s thin, Usagi clamps his mouth on the white fabric, something for him to bite on. Preparing for the worst. Squeezing his eyes deathly tight, Usagi internally counts down. Three… Two… He feels his muscles spasm as he approaches the final digit, gripping onto his leg even more to level out the pain.

And in a single motion, his stuffed mouth muffles a series of colorful words as a sickening crunch punctures the silence.

-

“We did it, we did it~ WHOO!!” Mikey sings out. After busting a couple happy dances, he carefully places it next to the chalk, humming to himself. It was so coincidental how he and Donnie found the ninja with the stolen incense bell, chased them down like their lives depended on it, only for the poor guy to knock themselves out. Maybe they should’ve looked at the streetlamp in front instead.

He hears a yell from the kitchen. 

The youngest brother rushes to see what the commotion is all about, curious to see what’s wrong when everything right has happened, until Donnie places a hand behind him. Protecting him. 

“I’m only telling you once, Leon. Don’t trust Ronin,” Donnie warns. Extending his wrist-gauntlet, purple holograms of data float above, the important bit being a picture of a cloaking broach pinpointing Usagi and Ronin. “The cloaking broach properties are still being investigated, I won’t lie to you. Who knows what else it can do. But I have a sneaky feeling that Usagi may know something about him.”

For the most part, Leo’s listening. He’s not necessarily nodding or shaking his head, but he does look like he’s making a genuine effort to hear his twin out. Or he’s just faking it. 

Until Raph joins in.

The snapping alligator steps forward and Leo drops his laid back look. Suddenly, he’s alert and defensive. “Don’s right, you can’t trust the both of them.”

Leo splutters.

“I call BS. Usagi’s not the type to, yknow. Bum around with a guy like Ronin.”

“But he knows martial arts, and Raph knows he’s not some noobie,” Raph says a beat faster than Mikey. “Donnie literally just said how Ronin and Usagi had some sort of connection. He said that they both have cloaking broach properties.”

Rolling his eyes, Leo exasperatedly groans, walking away to gives himself some space, only for Raph to immediately fill said space. “Cloaking broaches are the latest trend, so what? April has it, Sunita has it.”

“Why do you hate him?” Mikey chimes in. He doesn’t really get the whole mess about Usagi, if he’s being honest.

“I don’t hate him,” Raph huffs.

“Yes you do! It’s always Leo stay from Usagi this, and, and Leo what did I tell you about not trusting Ronin that!” 

Leo exhales sharply, dragging a hand over his face. He doesn't think Raph will ever understand Usagi like he does. It honestly hurts to hear how distrusting his older brother is towards his friend, painting this terrible, down-right awful image of him, when Usagi has been nothing but kind. The rabbit yokai is skittish, awkward, and a tinsy bit closed off, but is that a crime? He’d be damned if so.

(A crime to his heart, because it’s going under cardiac arrest whenever he sees him.) 

Ronin was well… still confusing to him. He’s stolen the first artefact from him, which is a classic enemy move, but he hasn’t really done anything else that’s bad. Petty? Absolutely. Criminally deplorable? No. The samurai has helped fended the Foot away from him and his family, patched him up, and even gave him some pretty decent advice. 

He hasn’t made any funny moves. So maybe, maybe he’s wrong about him. “You can’t blame him for everything. So why can’t you accept that things happen by mistake?”

The eldest steps closer, but Leo doesn’t back away. They both glare intensely at each other and Mikey has a bad feeling about it. Someone’s going to get hurt.

“You know what your problem is, Leo?”

“Oh I would love to know,” Leo agrees without missing a beat. “Enlighten me.”

Pinching the bridge of his snout, a deep rumble rattles in his chest. Raph turns to the younger duo. “Mikey, Donnie, can ya’leave the room for a bit?”

Leo doesn’t give anyone any time to speak, because his mouth moves faster than his body. Trying to get them out without Raph hammering him down with his own set of words. “No, stay. It’s not something private, isn’t it? So why don’t you share to the class,” Leo says in a condescending tone. “I wanna hear the shit you’re itching to say. Begging to say. Because I’m dying to know.”

Raph growls a warning. Danger seeps like venom from his barred teeth, but Leo isn’t scared of disobeying him. Not when everything he does seems to set his older brother off.

“I thought we made it clear that we were making NO death jokes.”

“Who said it was a joke? Is that what I am to you?”

“Leo. Not now,” Mikey whispers. With Donnie still keeping him in place, he manages to extend an arm, tugging him away from Raph’s shaking fist. It’s shaking like crazy, and it makes anyone wonder how much anger the guy has been repressing. 

He didn’t listen. Or doesn’t want to listen. Because he whips his arm away lightning fast, pointing a hard pointer finger onto Raph’s plastron. “You’re such a hypocrite! You listen to Donnie and Mikey, but what about me? When I warned you guys about the cloaked guy back when we were goofing on, you dismissed it. You said it was nothing. Now look at where we are.”

“And you still believe him, Leo?”

“Only because he actually listened to the shit that’s been bothering me.”

“You’ve been making conversation with that traitor!?”

“Only because you’ve been such a shit older brother!”

“Guys!” Mikey cries out. “Please, just stop!” But none of them hear him. The both of them are too heated in their argument, too busy getting their final words out to notice how continuous streams of wetness thunder down Mikey’s face. 

Donnie retracts his metal arms and holds him a bit closer.

“Are you that self-centred!?” Raph roars. Now that Leo’s pushed all his buttons, he’s lost all self restraint. The dam has been broken. He’s so lost in his cloud of anger, that he doesn’t register Leo’s violent flinch. “Have you learnt nothing!? I’m only protecting you ‘cause all your reckless ass does is do things your way. Not everyone’s way. You don’t hear everyone out, and that’s what landed everyone here in the first place!”

Raph slaps a hand over his mouth, horror washing down his face.

A moment of silence passes. Nothing but heaving breaths and muffled sobs could be heard and those unforgiveable words danced on the tip of Leo's tongue.

“Leo… I…” 

And it’s true, Leo understands why Raph does and says certain things. He’s the rock of the family; the sugar to the spice and everything nice. The makeshift-father that stepped up when Splinter wasn't emotionally available to. It’s hard to hate him for being so uptight; eldest daughter syndrome and trauma don’t mix well. So it makes perfect sense that he knows what’s best. 

But that doesn’t mean that Leo has to agree with him all the damn time.

“I hate you."

Chapter Text

He doesn’t expect much company for the next few days.

After the whole Foot debacle, he decides it's best to push the cloak aside, only wearing it when absolutely necessary. He doesn’t have the energy for it anyways. If his busted knee wasn’t a good enough warning, then fatigue would’ve been the next thing coming in hot.

Usagi looks up at the mini tv playing in the corner of the restaurant. The poor thing was clearly hanging on for dear life - a mass of wires haphazardly tangled below the glitching box, the rest stuffed from a hole on the ceiling. It’s in desperate need of a replacement, audio indecipherable, but it’s not bothersome enough for him to look elsewhere. With barely enough entertainment to keep his boredom at bay, he decides to actually listen in and decipher the rushed mouthful. The news anchor quickly plays a short snippet of a bunch of Foot ninjas wound up in handcuffs.

Good thing I left earlier, Usagi thinks. Roughly a dozen masked ninjas beeline to the police car, begrudgingly squeezing themselves inside a hilariously small cop car clearly meant for no more than five, before the door slams shut. Wouldn’t want to end up like them. 

Looking away from the screen, Usagi dunks the mop into the bucket, swishing it in murky grey water before continuing to mop up the rest of the floor. He winces. His still-tender knee shakes beneath his weight, traumatised from several nights ago. If he’s perfectly honest, he doesn’t think he should be walking around like everything’s fine, considering how a literal bone in his bone popped out of place. But he also doesn’t want to bring more attention onto him.

It was already bad enough when Huseo found out. Either he’s a bad liar or the skeleton’s father's senses were tingling, but the minute Usagi limped into the diner for his night shift, Huseo immediately shushed him into his office. The past thirty minutes were spent with a stern lecture, hot chocolate, and an upgraded medical kit pushed into his hands. 

Personally, he thinks it’s the fact that he went M.I.A that gave his boss a scare. Logically, news spreads fast around the Hidden City, but crimes fester like wildfire. But truthfully, he thinks it’s how undeniably tired he looked that gave everything away.

He would say it’s stupid how Huseo benched him from serving duty, but he can’t necessarily say that he’s not grateful either. It does feel good to not deal with anyone.

A wet trail follows behind him as he works his way towards the other side. 

With his back turned, a gust of wind blows past his fur as the door weakly cracks open, just wide enough to fit whoever opened it in the first place. Usagi looks up, quickly reaching for menus and ready to greet them, only to be ignored. They just kept walking. Speed walking, actually. No matter, it’s not the first time that Usagi handled any rude customers, and most certainly won’t be the last. With nothing better to do (and to save his co-worker the trouble) he makes his way over to the very back. Watching Usagi place the menu folders on the table, the hooded figure tugging their black hood forward, two green fingers peeking out of the sleeve cuffs. 

Usagi raised a brow, but doesn’t bother to further comment. If they want to be left alone then that’s fine with him.

But back to the topic at hand. So long as he’s up and moving, which in the long run, will most definitely come to bite him in the ass from overworking his knee, then he thinks he’ll be alright. Everything will be alright. He’s a firm believer in that fact - always has been, always will be. But now? Not so sure on second thought. 

Mostly because he’s clutching onto his wooden mop for dear life, knowing who’s going to enter the front door but hopes he’s wrong anyways. Usagi chews the inside of his mouth, dreading at the sight of a silhouetted snapping turtle hastily pushing past the door, reverberating a shrill creak. Clearing his throat and tossing away the filth slobbed mop, he pats himself down and tries to make himself presentable. All he wants it to survive the final hours of his shift.

“Good evening. Welcome to Run of the Mill-”

“Have you seen Leo?”

…Huh. Straight to the point.

Regardless, Usagi snaps out of his customer service persona and takes a good look and yikes does Raph look awful. Scratch that. Describing his physical state as sad was an understatement, the guy looked as if he’d just left a funeral. Even in such a disarrayed state, the latter managed to beat him, something that Usagi would gladly let him take first place in. Both eyes filled with nothing but excessive worry and weariness, edges rimmed with light red. A sleeveless red hoodie messily fits over his carapace, spikes shooting out all over the place. 

The red coded brother frantically looked around, wandering everywhere until his good eye landed around the seats from the back, squinting as he continued to stare with suspicion. As if they somehow knew, the tri fingered yokai dove head first into the menu, suddenly interested in the contents. They uncomfortably squirm in their seat.

Usagi stood in front of the hooded yokai, blocking Raph’s line of vision, suddenly feeling protective. “Not yet, but you’ll be the first to know if I do.”

His thumb repeatedly picks at the wooden mop, a small attempt to sooth the bundles of nerves clambering his heart. Will he get splinters? Guess he’ll just have to find out. “Sorry I can't do much, but maybe,” Usagi fishes out his pad and pen. “You guys can talk it over takeout?”

“I…” He rakes a hand over his scarred eye, considering Usagi’s suggestion before caving in and ordering. Usagi clicks his pens open, immediately writing down whatever comes out of the snapping alligator's mouth, keeping his eyes locked in on the small notepad. Meat-Lovers pizza and garlic bread does sound like an irresistible combination.

And then they wait. 

Which is very unfortunate for Usagi - things do tend to get a bit awkward when your friend’s brother not only finds you suspicious, but your alter ego even more. Especially when it’s just him, Raph, and some random guy sitting in the far back. The calming background music doesn’t really help subdue the tension. Thankfully, it’s not long after the food actually comes out. Which, wow, was actually quite speedy to send out but felt like a lifetime. 

Usagi hands the steaming bagged boxes to Raph. Looking around once more in hopes to find those signature red stripes, Raph shoots out a tense huff from his snout, utterly defeated. “You better do,” he warns. 

“You have my word,” Usagi promises, eager to watch him leave. 

Those silent threats don’t exactly ease Usagi’s worries. Not when he knows that there’s a high probability that he’s harbouring a wanted fugitive (in less dramatical terms, a Hamato). But he’s willing to take that chance. Even if he’s wrong.

Still, Raph eyes him one final time before leaving the restaurant, tail somberly swayed behind.

What a conversation, Usagi scratches his head. With that talk alone, he thinks his lifespan significantly shortened by a third. Probably the Hamato effect. Inwardly sighing, he turned around to retrieve his mop since the floor isn’t going to magically clean up itself, when eyes briefly skimmed past the back seats. No one was there. The menu scattered across the table, clear that someone was occupying it before. 

Curious, Usagi makes his way to that area. Lo and behold, there really isn’t anyone there. Quite unusual, because he should’ve heard the customer leave or at least hear the creak of the door. But there was none of that. Which could only mean one thing.

Collecting the menu from the table, Usagi sighs. “You can come out now.”

“Maybe at a later time, but sure,” that familiar voice calls back. “I’d knew you were smart like that.”

“Of course I am, who do you take me for,” Usagi deadpans.

A dark chuckle softly rumbled, sounding rough and hoarse. “Right, I keep forgetting.” Without any warning, Leo leaps from the shadows, posing his hands beside his head with all fingers curled. “Boo,” he monotonously uttered. He doesn't look remotely terrifying. 

Regardless of the lack of emotions, Usagi still lets out the most blood-curdling scream he’s ever let out, which honestly was surprisingly high. Needless to say, this is an embarrassingly new low for Usagi to be caught off guard like that.

Instinctively, he throws the stacks at Leo. The slider manages to dodge by the slight tilt of his head.

“What- Leo!?”

Scrambling over to his side, Usagi brings a hand to his cheek. Obviously, Leo tries to deny his help, evidently trying to avoid looking Usagi in the eyes. The other weakly pries the white furred hands away from his hand, but Usagi’s got an iron grip. He forces Leo’s head to turn both sides as he inspects his face, slightly at ease to find no serious injuries. Nothing more than old scratches and discolored bruises.

“Damn, do I look that bad?” Leo joked, his attempts at lightening the mood falling flat.

Yes, Usagi wanted to say. Yes you do. Because as horrible as it is for him to agree, Usagi can’t deny how bad of a shape Leo is currently in. Without the mask, Usagi tries not to wince at the shallow circles lying beneath those golden eyes. 

They doesn’t shine as vibrant as the katana snuggly sheathed behind Leo’s shell.

“I’m fine, really,” Leo says, voice laced with a hint of defeat. The ring wrapped around his thumb emits a cool touch. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

The comment doesn’t exactly make Usagi feel better, if not, worse. “Well, someone has to,” Usagi mutters. He doesn’t miss the way Leo’s breath hitches, grip on Usagi’s wrist tightening, far too occupied to bother swatting away Usagi’s hands. They’re still cupping his cheeks. “What are you even doing out here,” Usagi redirects the conversation. 

Leo smiles. It doesn’t look the same. “What? Can’t I see my favorite Run of The Mill employee?”

Usagi chuckles. At least he hasn’t lost his sparkle. But before he could open his mouth, wanting to say more, another sound abruptly joined their conversations. He wants to continue where they last left off, wanting to continue asking questions. Desperately. But now’s probably not the best time. Not when Leo’s got this panic-stricken look across his face. Shocked from the sudden change, he lets go of Leo’s face. 

The red-eared slider quickly drags the both of them to the neighboring wall. He presses a finger on his own lips before peeping through a window, only to immediately turn back around, trying his best to avoid being seen. 

Honestly, he’s not entirely sure why Leo’s so stressed. It’s not like the shadow approaching the door is a stranger. In fact, he just talked with the snapping alligator moments prior. But when he looks at Leo and the pieces of the missing puzzles slot together.

He’s scared.

Within the short span of seconds, Leo went from bad to worse. A deep, rumbling voice calls for his name outside, but Leo refuses to answer. His grip on the katana squeezes each time Raph calls for his name, desperately looking all over the place for every possible exit, sweating like crazy. The kitchen? Likely to get ratted out. The storage room? Locked for the night after Usagi’s stunt. Huseo’s office? He’s not going to be happy, and preferably, he’d like to stay away from his bad side.

The more they stall, the closer Raph’s voice becomes. Seems like he’s coming closer to finding out. Usagi snaps his head to Leo.

“Got any bright ideas?”

“Just one,” Leo murmurs. He turns the handle of his katana, twisting and turning it until he finds a good grip on it before drawing it out.

Usagi looks outside the window. “Uh, Leo?” To no one’s surprise, an anxious ridden Raph is striding towards the entrance, moments away from bursting through the doors. “I don’t mind letting you do your own thing,” The other doesn’t respond. Not even a hum. His eyes are clamped shut, yet could be seen frantically moving behind as he forces down deep breaths. Which, ok, fine. Ignore him. But Usagi rathers not deal with a betrayed looking Raph right after making a promise, a down-right criminal act that even he doesn’t feel comfortable committing. “But I’d really appreciate it if you speed things up a little.”

Again, no answer. He keeps drawing these circles like motions in front of them, but nothing seems to be working. “If you have any ideas, telling them now would be a good time.”

“I’m trying,” Leo grits, patience rapidly wearing away. He tries making another circle, flickers of light barely sparking this time. “C’mon, don’t do this to me,” he says, but it doesn't sound like he's talking to anyone in particular.

The hefty footsteps come to a pause. Usagi doesn’t even have to look to know who’s standing behind the door. He painfully gulps, feeling a tall shadow cast over him, pressing himself as close to the wall as physically possible. Feeling that wary eye dart all over, wondering why he heard his younger brother’s voice in the restaurant. Hearing the plastic bag he carefully stored for Raph sway, muffled by the wall separating them. Watching the handle of the door twist and rattle.

“Brace yourself,” Leo whispers, ordering him out of the blue. Confused, Usagi cocks his head, unsure why Leo’s clutching onto his hand for dear life. 

“What are you saying-”

Without a countdown or warning, the slider draws out his katana once more, letting out a frustrated yelp as he makes a circle in front of them. Only this time, something does happen. The tip of his katana rips open a portal - one so bright that even he has trouble seeing past it, and one wide enough to fit the both of them. Even if he does have objections that hey, maybe a magical portal that leads them to a strange place, probably isn’t the safest escape, it’s not like he has much of a choice but to trust Leo. 

Then Leo's squeezing his hand incredibly tight, too tight for someone that looks chronically laid back. And before he knows it, Leo drags him into the neon blue and lets it engulf him whole.

-

It takes a while for reality to come creeping back. 

Usagi groans; knees giving out, arms supporting himself. Surely, Leo had a more graceful landing than him. 

The whole experience felt like a violent rush of spinning and being flipped upside down, really. No doubt an unpleasant experience nor an ideal method of transportation, but he’s sure that he’ll get used to it in no time. He hopes.

Even though he’s on the verge of throwing up, there's another feeling that undeniably overpowers it.

“Oh wow,” he mutters. He slowly stands up. The sight of his surroundings eats up his remaining words, too invested in the bright scenery to question anything more, not even to pat away the dirt on his knees. The usual slow Spanish background music becomes immediately replaced with multiple dozens, perhaps millions, of cars rudely honking in the unmoving traffic, all bound by a long connecting bridge. And rather the cosy homey vibes from the restaurant, it’s replaced by the harsh unforgiving winds.

Shrinking away from the wind’s roar, he mindlessly rubs both arms to generate some sort of heat while admiring his new environment. He turns around and around. Simply in awe at the waves of bright lights, all coming from tall, short and wide buildings. Neo Edo finally has a competitor. 

So this is what the human world looks like.

Personally, he’s never been up long enough to admire it, chances to sneak past the border checkpoint were next to nothing. From what he could remember, it was all a massive blur of instinct, fear, and a constant need to outrun whoever was tailgating him. Since then, he’s never really associated happy thoughts with it, always mustering an awkward laugh and a strained smile whenever Huseo’s patrons did mention it. That is, until now.

Then he looks at where they’re standing. It’s hard and gravelly and dark, something like concrete. He shifts his footing, hearing a slight crunch beneath. Yeah, most likely. And as it turns out, the body of water was pushing against the floating piece of land, one he was standing on. Usagi’s never stood foot on a small island like this before, but he supposes that there’s a first time for everything.

“Oh my god, that was so cool!” He exclaimed with starry eyes. “It was all bright then not, and, and, we were at Huseo’s then here!? I never knew you could… you could…”

He expects to see Leo’s enthralled reaction, mimicking his own. But that doesn’t happen. No, instead, Leo’s standing incredibly still, not doing anything in particular that screams off. Just watching the world around him pass.

Usagi walks to him, “something on your mind?”

“I’m not sure why I teleported us here,” Leo quietly admits. “I don’t even know why I teleported us here, of all places.” He spreads his arms at the tiny island, heavy machinery eerily creaking. Probably still under construction. “Staten Island’s such a shithole,” he mutters, most likely to himself.

“I’m sure you do,” Usagi reassures.

“Well, I don’t, okay!” Leo snaps, the speed of the wind picking up. His anger feels misdirected. “I don’t even know what I’m doing half the time, so quit asking me what to do!”   

“Take it easy, I didn’t even do anything wrong.” At least he hopes he hasn’t.

But apparently, that only angers him even more. “Don’t fucking easy me, you have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“Well, don't go blaming me for wanting to help,” Usagi sternly recalls. Deep breaths in. Then out. Focus. Getting mad won't get you anywhere. “Let me help you. I can try to understand," he speaks with more consideration.

“You wouldn’t get it,” Leo scoffs and looks away. His short-lived anger becomes immediately replaced with apathy as the slider hugs both his arms. The conversation feels uncomfortably familiar.

He trudges on over to the island’s edge, letting his legs hang. Gentle waves clash against his scaled green skin. And Usagi? He looks away too, a frustrated sigh escaping his mouth. Maybe it’s to let himself cool down, lest he lets anger overcloud his vision. Or maybe, it’s the closest thing he has to getting away from a situation like this. To running away. The topic made every fiber of his skin crawl, the familiarity disgustingly vivid because maybe, maybe it’s something he’s dealt with way too often, reminding him of those one-sided heated disagreements argued with his Auntie. 

He wasn’t the most qualified person by far. But he also couldn’t just leave Leo alone.

There was a long pause of nothing but waves crashing and winds shrieking, before Usagi finally joined him. It makes his heart ache finding a shocked look on Leo’s face, unexpected at Usagi’s actions, looking away as he curls to himself closer. 

The duo sat there, peacefully (at least on Usagi’s end) staring off into the endless midnight blue without exchanging any words. It’s different, Usagi notes. How each star is noticeably more full of life despite the heavily polluted air, than the artificial ones down below. And if he squints just a bit more, perhaps he could spot a constellation that perfectly matches the description of Orion’s belt.

It’s not after a long while when the both of them have long been settled, that Leo takes a breath from the deathly chilling air. “Hey Usagi,” Leo whispers, saying his name like a worn secret. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

Usagi whole heartedly stops, eyes flickering, then turns to face Leo. Golden eyes waiting for him to give him an impossible answer. “That wasn’t funny, Leo.”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” Leo begins to turn away.

“Then what made you say that? We laugh and joke around all the time, but that doesn't mean I won't take you seriously when you want me to. I don’t mean to feed into your ego, but you,” Usagi takes a deep breath, “are one of the most important people in my life.”

It’s not noticeable at first, but he slowly unravels from his makeshift shield he’s created for himself, revealing pinkish clouded eyes. The impenetrable wall he made for himself shows a fine line. A small crack. “Really?”

Usagi nods. There’s not a doubt in his mind that says otherwise. “You’re so considerate, and apparently funny if you can make me smile,” Leo playfully rolls his eyes, suppressing the curve in his mouth, slightly sinking into the warm comfort of his hood. “And naturally talented at leading! It just hurts that you don’t see yourself like how I see you.” With eyes suddenly lit up with an idea, Usagi shuffles closer, glad Leo isn’t hiding away from him anymore. “I’ll tell you what, how about we play a game of some sort? You tell me something that’s bothering you, and I’ll do the same.”

“I don’t think that’s a very fun game.”

“Think of it as a way of getting to know each other, hm?” Usagi smiles lopsidedly. Another crack forms. Then a couple more.

Pausing for a bit, Leo hesitantly looks at him before caving in. He looks at his hands. It’s littered with thick calluses and old sharp scars. “Yeah, okay. Fine. You win.”

Leo shakily laughs. “There’s a reason why I’ve never told you about this. About my teleport schtick. Like my brothers, I too, have a ninpo. Teleportation - coincidentally my favorite shade of blue, flashy, far more convenient and much more cooler. It looks hard and I say it’s a skill issue whenever someone asks, but really, all it takes is heaps of practice. All I need to do is just. Think real hard. Just of a place I wanted to go, draw a circle with my katana, then bam. Easy peasy.”

“That does sound nice.”

“Pshyeah, it was,” his eyes smiled, all before the light vanishes. “Nowadays, I barely use it. Scared to. The Krang General did a number on me. Not surprised if it already collected dust in the back of my room. I only used the stupid thing to get away from my brother.”

If he's really bothered by the Leo's excessive fear, then he doesn't show it. The question of why, exactly, he's afraid of using it dances on his lips. But he keeps them shut. 

Noticing the small tremor in Leo’s hand when talking about it, Usagi places a hand over the others. He sternly looks at him again. It’s okay. Usagi feels the fingers beneath his tense, slowly melting with his. You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to. I understand.

But out of all the words he could’ve said, a soft, “I’m sorry,” slips out of his mouth. 

The latter shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. You deserve to know. Been meaning to tell you for a while, anyways.”

“Everyone says everything went to shit when the Krang arrived. But me? I’d say it was when Dad made me leader,” Leo starts off. “Technically, even though Raph and I are co-leading the team, we don’t plan our missions together that much. Not anymore. All the responsibility suddenly comes down to me and I feel like there’s this… expectation, that everyone has of me. It’s always Leo, get your mind out the gutter or Leo, what’s next?”

“And you’re tired of that.”

“Exactly!” Leo shoots out his hands, arms springing out and moving as he talks. “It’s so unfair how I have to be the serious one, all of a sudden. I was fine being the underdog; the face man. Really, I’m just not cut out for this, leadering kind of thing, ya’know? I don’t even know why Raph backed away and let me handle everything.”

“Must be exhausting,” Usagi mentions. He wants to say something more, do something more, than just sit beside him and lend an ear. Or maybe, that's all Leo needs.

“It is. Hundred percent wouldn’t recommend unless you want chronic burnout,” Leo bitterly laughs. For a brief moment, there was silence. “I had a fight with Raph,” he takes another shallow breath, hunching his shoulders. “Now that I think about it, it was stupid. Really stupid. It was something over a mission gone wrong, and there were tons of ways that we could’ve handled it.”

“But?”

“But he’s always checking up on me. Seeing if I need help or if I’m sick or whatever. Always got something to say about me after a mission gone wrong,” Leo huffs. "He went from not caring for me at all, to being on alert after I got injured. Just because I had my knee crushed and my shell cracked and was in a coma for a bit, doesn't mean I'm suddenly okay with him overly protecting me, like I'll break and shatter any moment."

Usagi lets out a hum of recognition, showing that he's still paying attention. But really, he's freaking out; the only good thing he's doing is not showing how disturbed he is. He doesn't know how Leo manages to say it so causally. From Huseo's account, turtle shells are incredibly hard to crack. The thought of it happening to Leo of all yokai, makes him sick to his core.

“I didn’t care at first. If the guy wants to quadruple check if I’m here, then so be it. But give me a fucking break," the anger in his voice is undeniably present.

"I’m not even allowed to be out by myself without my phone being blasted with messages. The constant motherhenning was too much, and it’s like he doesn’t even trust me to hold my own weight,” he spits out, agitated hands now animating his line of speech. “So, I took whatever I had and left - couldn’t stand being around him anymore. Didn’t even stop when my brothers begged me not to. And when I heard him outside Tío's place, I got scared,” his voice broke. “Not ‘cause I’m scared that he'll do something. But because I don’t know how long I can do this, Usagi,” his voice wavered, head diving into his palms.

“I d- I don’t want to keep arguing with him. It’s getting worse and worse each day goes by, and it fe- feels like I’m fighting to even get a word out.” It’s hard to hear his cries over the turbulent waves, to understand how utterly lost he sounds when he keeps getting drowned out. But the wet droplets rolling down his palms paint the perfect picture, so Usagi shuffles closer, hugging him by the sides. He doesn't ever want to let go. “And I tried to think of somewhere, anywhere, just to save us the trouble of facing Raph. But urgh!" Leo sucks in a stuttered breath, fist tightening under the crushing pressure. "My stupid head keeps thinking of this shitty place."

The more he spills, the more Usagi is convinced that Leo needs to see a therapist. Two actually: one for Leo, and additional one for his therapist.

“I said some really mean things to him, Usagi. I said I hated him. Hated him! God!" Leo whimpers, biting down his lip to prevent any sound from escaping. "Do you know how awful that sounds?"

Usagi's eyes soften, rubbing circle like motion on his palms, seemingly calming him down. Even for a little bit. "Accidents happen, Leo."

Before Usagi could even respond, his weeping friend continues without break. "But not this one," Leo furiously rubs away his tears. "Because I'm supposed to be the leader!" Leo croaks, jabbing both hands at his chest. Tears furiously spill from topaz eyes. "Leaders don't have accidents, or make mistakes. Not when everyone's looking up to me for answers. S- So when I-" He gestures his hands towards the suffocatingly plethora of lights restricted within grey boxes. "And when I see so many lights, it re- reminds me of how what could've happened. How many families I could've destroyed if I didn't get the key, how I could've destroyed my family, and let the Krang take over."

Usagi doesn't have the faintest idea of what the Krang looked like, nor the importance of said key. But it sounds like a pretty big deal if Leo's bawling over it. Nevertheless, his blood boiled over hearing it. What other undeserved pressure did Leo have to manage himself? He can't even begin to imagine just how long he's been doing that for, by himself, without any help or guidance. It's so stupid. His family is unknowingly setting him up for failure. How can anyone in their right mind be shocked when said child fails miserably at succeeding without any prior experience?

He hates how Raph has yet let Leo learn and grow in his own ways, hates how his father hasn't offered a hand when he needed him most. But mostly, he hates how cruel this world is for not letting him heal those nasty, gruesome wounds that scarred him from the inside out.

If Leo thought he was fighting alone, by himself, then he's in for a surprise.

"And I honestly don't know how long I've had to put up this brave face. It's always been there. Even when I sacrificed myself and sealed off the portal, so it was just me and that monster," Leo shivers recalling that memory. Scooping his head, Usagi gently leans it onto his shoulder, slightly alarmed that Leo didn't bother to shrug him off. "But inside, this whole time, I felt so so scared. I didn't want to die. I had so many things I wanted to do," he raises the katana to his palm, blankly watching it reflect a blurry version of himself. There's not a hint of emotion behind his words, somehow as if he whole heartedly believes the lies he's telling himself. "But it didn't matter what I wanted. It was what was deserved. A part of me thinks that's true," Leo quietly says. "A shit leader deserves to have shit things happen to them."

Disturbing chills run down Usagi's spine. He knew that beyond Leo's persona lied something far more deep and complex, but this? Years of not having a stable support system explains why he thought he was a horrible person. Usagi needs to keep this conversation going - this is rare opportunity to see Leo in, and any wrong move could potentially leave him feeling even more unwanted stressed. But he didn't know what to do. Usagi was a samurai, now ronin, illegally trained by his village's best sword fighter, not a licensed therapist.

But the best thing he could do was be Leo's friend.

"Back when I was living in Neo Edo, I had a younger sister," Usagi says, suddenly. This seems to snap Leo out of his spiral, now looking at Usagi with a mix of curiosity and confusion. "Calico cat, several years younger than me, and loved kosumosu flowers. That was Hana."

"I never knew."

Usagi resists the urge to drop his head, letting his fur cover the pressure building up behind his eyes. "You weren't supposed to," Usagi says, eyes distantly looking at the city that never sleeps. "After the warbotto war broke out, a lot of people were misplaced, especially children, and Auntie decided to take her in. And since then, she was the golden child, thriving in the attention she showered her. And I wanted that. So, I started to ignore Hana, started treating her horrible, all because I wanted things to go back the way they were. Back when it was just me and Auntie, living in the sheltered country-side of Neo Edo. Back when I had no idea how much she looked up to me."

He hesitated. "It was like any other day when it happened, starting off with a meaningless argument with Auntie about her favoritism issues. One thing led to another and I just, left. She told me not to go because of some natural disaster, or whatever it was. But I didn't bother listening to her for the first time since. Forever," he shakes his head in disbelief. "I went to hide away in my usual spot, an abandoned training room, because that's what I always did when I got mad. And I got even angry when I found out Hana followed me, because she wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. Then I told her to go away." The calmness slowly seeps away, but Usagi won't let his emotions control him. He's better than that. "Then I left her all alone, and then the earthquake happened, and no one was there to help me lift the rubble because she was still-" 

A sharp breath sucked in. "She just wanted to give me flowers, Leo. To cheer me up. That's all she ever wanted," Usagi's voice shakes. "So tell me, does that make me a bad person too?"

"Absolutely not," Leo immediately replies, shooting away from Usagi's shoulder. "You didn't know."

"Neither did you," Usagi holds his stare, watching as Leo's ingrained frown smoothen out and morph into something else. "The past doesn't bother me as much as it used to," Usagi says a moment too quick. "But we can't control what happens." He obviously doesn't believe a single word that comes out of his mouth. The mere thought of her passing terrifies him to his core; the fresh metallic scent beneath the rubble may never leave his mind. Thirteen or thirty, it doesn't matter, it'll feel all the same. But Lord, make him the best liar this world has to offer. 

"Listen," he swallows dryly. "I might not understand what being a leader is like. Or ways to handle the world from ending, but there's one thing I do know." Leo wipes his snout with his elbow, watery eyes awaiting. "You were just a kid, Leo. We were just kids."

"So was Raph," Leo murmurs.

"But you aren't Raph, and he isn't you. Did Raph have any help leading your brothers?" Usagi questioned.

"I guess, yeah. But Dad only taught him 'cause he was-"

"Did anyone teach you how leading a team should've been?"

"Not really..."

"And how long ago was it when you became leader?"

"Three years ago-"

"And do you sleep soundly, knowing that you may have caused one of your brothers an injury, regardless of how bad it is?"

"No!" Leo cries out. "I think about them all the time, even if I didn't want to!"

"Then Leo," Usagi says heavily. He bumps the side of his own head against the smooth scaled one. "There's something in my native tongue that we call a situation like this jiko. An accident."

Leo blinks. Twice and thrice more, processing Usagi's calculated words. "That big of a choice wasn't never yours to make, and it's awful that it was forced onto you," Usagi softly repeats. He'll say it again and again and again. "Bad people don't usually beat themselves over mistakes made, do they?"

"But my brothers," Leo wetly chokes, desperately trying to defend the horrible thoughts plaguing his mind, because they were the only constant in his life. As expected, the wall shatters and crumbles under the immense stress. The tears don't stop rolling. "If only I had taken the leader gig seriously, then Mikey's hands would be okay. And Donnie wouldn't ha-have shell sensitivity, and Raph wouldn't-"

"That's the problem. As much as you might hate it, you can't -" Usagi paused, feeling Leo's finger wrap around one of his own.

"- save everyone," he exhaled, breath misty and eyes patient. "No matter how hard you try. And it hurts, I get it. I really do. But look at what it's doing to you," his hand latches onto Leo's, engulfing the green scales with his white fur one. Leo flinches at the call-out. "You're always looking out for everyone," Usagi slowly says, wary of his wording. "But who's looking out for you?"

He hears Leo's heartbeat evening out, his stuttered breaths slowing down with each breath taken, matching Usagi's heart rate. "I, I don't know," he says, hushed and ashamed. "I never thought about that."

"Well, now's probably good time."

"I hate feeling like this," Leo quietly admits after a long while. 

Usagi nods. “Don't we all. But things didn’t go the way we wanted it to, but that sucks. Life's an ass."

“Pft," Leo snickers, "you swore.”

“Learnt it from the worst,” Usagi tiredly sighs, ignoring the light-hearted jab to the rib, secretly smiling at the change of attitude. "But at some point, you do need to tell them."

"No way," Leo tears away from Usagi's hold, chilling coolness replacing his warmth. Leo shakes his head, mouth pressed and thin. "I can't do that."

"Why not? Did they do something to upset you?"

The slider rubs his neck, attempting to massage away the tension. "No but," Leo's knee unevenly jitters, attempting to rid the nervous energy coursing through him. Usagi remains patient. "Talking about it, the full extent of well, everything. My injuries, what happened in the Prison Dimension? It all brings back bad memories," Leo confesses. "I know they won't mind hearing me out, but the possibility that they'll hate me even more?" He shakily exhales, snaking his fingers with Usagi's. The shared warmth is slightly more than he's ever comfortable with, but it's not like he'll ever tell him that. "I don't think I can handle it."

"Did they directly say that?"

"No, but-"

"Then you don't know that for sure," Usagi rebuts. "Your family loves you so much. It's not like you not telling them won't lessen their worries."

"I... I'll think about it," Leo promises, feeling braver than he ever has in a long time. Hesitantly, he looks him in the eye. "But I can't do it alone."

Usagi smiles fondly. "You won't," he says. Everything else tunes out, and the world around them falls incredibly quiet. "You're the best of all of us, Leo. Out of everyone in the Hidden City."

And he means it. He truly does.

Chapter Text

By the time Raph searched high and low (and definitely flipped the whole Hidden City upside down) not once, but thrice, the sun had long been set and the night life came out to play. He dragged himself to the nearest wall and defeatedly leaned against it, all while standing next to the softshell. 

Donnie raised a brow from the sound of his arrival, eyes yet left the purple hologram reflected from his wrist gauntlet. He’s swiping and pinching various images. It all looks so complicated and math related that only a madman like Donnie could relish. 

Seemingly moving forth to finding the third and final artefact. 

“Still no luck?”

All Donnie got was a non-committal, “hm”. Still, Raph scanned the divided crowd for a flash of green even in his tired state; a hint of crescent reds even in his ragged state, even with his hopes running on a thin sliver. His milky right eye lazily blinks. “Aren’t you worried,” Raph grunts. 

“I wouldn’t if I was being berated at,” Donnie replies, sharp and blunt.

He flinches, but it’s the truth. The fight he had with Leo was sort of a blur, his anger too clouded to let him stop, think, and rationalise. “Yeah.” His thickly scaled tail curls around his legs. 

“What you said to him was out of line, and a dick move at best,” Donnie continues and Raph doesn’t bother to correct his language. “You messed up big time.”

“Raph knows,” he looks away. He wished the wall behind him would swallow him whole.

A frustrated sigh pushed past Donnie’s teeth. “But you both did. Of course I still have my reservations,” the string of clicks and clacks from the keypad stops. “But unlike you, I know when to stop. Leo is unfortunately my… extended half, so it’s only natural I understand what’s going through that pea-sized brain of his.” 

If Donnie were anyone else, then Raph would have assumed otherwise. His trademark flat tone remained the same after all those years.

A stiff hand itches towards his shoulder, carefully slotting itself past the dangerous spikes pierced outwards. Raph swallows thickly. “What if Raph doesn’t get another second chance?”

Raph squints at the ground. It’s frustrating, really. He thought he was doing everything right, and he worked especially hard too! Things were tough after getting the ‘team leader’ boot, instantly demoted to just brawns within a single day and giving him no time to adjust. Now it was Leo that everyone looked for answers. Of course, Raph would toss in the co-leading label between him and Leo every now and then, but really, it was to make him feel better. Over the years, Leo would progressively insistent on doing things his way, and Raph would need to find the self-restraint as to why his plan sucked without outright saying it (sometimes it worked, most times it didn’t. He tried to keep his cool.)

He was the protector. But Mikey was adamant on his independence, and Donnie only needs protecting when he’s in life threatening danger, and April was busy preparing for her finals. And Leo would’ve scoffed at him. 

So who exactly was there left to protect?     

Then the fights became more common, more louder, more unspoken apologies, more than passive aggressive shoulder shoves. Then the Kraang happened and his world shattered. He remembers tearing away from the restraining hands shielding him from the horrible truth, not bothering to question why he could only see out of one eye. He remembers busting the door open, and he remembers stifling choked gasps before falling apart in front of the faint, but evident, heartbeats of Leo’s unconscious form. His overconfident, goofy, younger brother. 

He didn’t think it was possible to have that many tubes and machines hooked onto Leo. 

Raph desperately wants to make things right again, and he’s tried over, and over. But he just. Doesn’t know how to make it work.   

“Give him time,” Donnie awkwardly patted his shoulder. It’s way too tense and it feels more like patting in timely intervals than soothing rubs, but Raph knows it’s just his own special way of comforting him. “You’re not doing yourself any favours by running yourself ragged.”

He retracts his hand, scrunching his face. “Sorry. If that was too harsh. Mikey has been helping me work out my emotions and how I express them but...” A small message icon pops on his gauntlet, and lo and behold, it’s Mikey. “ Come back home ASAP, we just found- Oh. Oh! Uh. Come on, Raph. Let’s get moving.”

“Hm?” 

The both of them embraced the chill air and made their way to wherever next. Well, in all honesty, it was more Donnie leading the way and Raph following behind. There was no way he could when he’s so used to letting his brothers take up that role. After all, isn’t that what Splinter wanted?

Small talk filled the gaps of silence, but Raph couldn’t help but feel an odd twist in his gut upon that thought.

-

The Hamato household is unnaturally quiet upon entering. 

Raph never hated noise. He wasn’t one to turn down a good wrestle or a family movie night. But every once in a while, he would cross his fingers and pray that things would quiet down for a couple minutes; especially during the few moments Mikey would triple-dog dare April to do something incredibly stupid, and particularly whenever the twins’ were out concouting some devious prank beyond ethical. But it was nothing more than a mere, fleeting thought. Now, he wished things were anything but the occasional drip drip from the leaking kitchen tap. 

More than anything, Raph fiddled with the plastic bag. The fragile thin straps are starting to fray and split if he doesn’t stop puncturing holes in it. Holes? Yeah, he probably should’ve brought his crocheted bag instead. Looked better anyways.

A pair of footsteps lightly made it’s way to greet them. “Hey Big Man,” Mikey smiled tiredly. The dimmed fairlights loosely hung on the walls always emitted a warm vibe, but Raph felt anything but that. He didn’t need comfort, he wanted answers.

“Um. Heya Mike? Glad Don got your text, but have you seen… seen…”

Slowly but surely, those familiar red crescents step out of the shadows, the dim lighting casting a dramatic effect on Leo’s pink rimmed eyes. Everything about him screams tense - the way his brows scrunches tightly, the stiffness his shoulders carried. It doesn’t suit Leo, not by a far mile, and he evidently wants to be anywhere but here. Raph is starting to see why. That’s why he needs to make things right, he has to.

Before Raph could even utter another word, Leo tugs his interlocked hand along with him, dragging out an equally nerve-racked guest while making his way closer to everyone else. Tufts of white fur stick out in odd places, but that’s the least of Raph’s concern. 

“Is this some sort of,” Raph trails off, mind slowly making the connection.

“Well-overdue intervention requiring discussions of inadequacy and self-hatred due to miscommunication? Right on the money, brother,” Donnie dryly comments. “It’s not really my field of focus. But yes, we are having the talk.”

“With him here!?” Raph clicks his tongue, his face darkening. How many times does he have to remind everyone that he’s against having Usagi over, let alone talking to him?

Donnie makes a sound of recognition. “Is that why you didn’t tell him?” Orange mask tails bob up and down. “Yeah, I can see why,” he mononymously clicked off his battle shield, the metal hiss followed by a terribly hidden sigh of relief. Good. Seems like countless weeks of everyone just badgering him to take it off at home was doing miracle-like wonders. No one likes seeing the bruises on his shell deepen. 

“C’mon dude, I know you don’t like him,” Raph couldn’t help but scoff at Mikey’s remark, oblivious to the cocked brow from Usagi. Leo sighed while Donnie sarcastically rolled his eyes. 

Don’t like wouldn’t be the right phrasing. Not for someone he wants to avoid like the plague. Like a bad omen. Because it doesn’t matter that Usagi takes the time to neatly tie a bow on the plastic bag since Raph’s claws are too big, or if he specifically requests that any slimy-textured toppings be taken out for Donnie, or if he fills up Mikey’s Baja Blast to the brim, or if he makes Leo happy . At the end of the day, Usagi has some connection with Ronin, and Ronin is actively trying to steal the artefacts that they need. Ones meant to rid that fucking monster from Leo’s mind, and for that, he detests him for siding with that criminal. “But just give him a chance.”

“Give me a chance,” Leo urges. Words spill out of the slider’s mouth like water, afraid that Raph will interrupt him without hearing him out . 

Was he afraid of that happening?

A pregnant pause pierces the uncomfortable realisation. Raph looks at Leo before promptly looking elsewhere, sparing him the tension, before looking at Mikey’s beckoning nod towards the living room. 

He doesn’t want to make his blue masked brother more uncomfortable than it already is. 

It takes a couple awkward shuffling before Leo works up the courage to break the silence. He opens his mouth, desperate to say his rehearsed lines, and as expected, nothing comes out. But it’s different this time. This time, he stops and looks at the pressure squeeze from his hand, pinched expression softening at Usagi’s understanding gaze, and he tries again.

“Well, uh. He’s here because he helped me say something I’ve always wanted to say. For a long time, actually,” Leo admits. The ugly feeling in Raph’s guts somehow twists even more, making him feel more ashamed than relieved.

“Ohh-kay. So,” Donnie inhales from his snout, both palms pressed together beneath before pointing it outwards. “I highly suggest that we take this discussion to the living room. And not, I don't know, in front of the front entrance? It’s not optimal for an incredibly show stopping, world shattering, turtle like me to be awkwardly standing while talking about heavy topics. So shoo, everyone. Chop chop,” he yelps at the sudden jab to the side, nursing his ribs while Mikey looks the least bit remorseful. Regardless, Raph is grateful for the save.

And gradually, they all make their way to the living room now devoid of Lou Jitsu reruns. Which is awfully convenient, since prying Splinter away from his favourite chair seemed like a lost cause. 

Raph turns to the weird sound played from afar. The vintage radio sizzles out a staticy, but decipherable, “ crkkk-  that’s right folks, testimony of recently jailed Foot ninja allegedly reported that Ronin, Hidden City’s all-timed feared criminal, PUNCHED him-,” could be heard before Donnie quickly switched it off. 

That’s wild, Raph turns his back and continues walking, not my problem if he gets hurt doing that.

Stretched away from the couch and on the coffee table sat a plate of freshly warm, and mouthwatering plate of chocolate chip cookies - a stark contrast to the chilled pizza. If Raph didn’t know any better, he’d say Mikey purposefully orchestrated this beforehand.

Raph won’t lie, everything feels a bit too daunting now that he’s sitting on the couch, trying not to sink into the softness of the clearly ragged couch.

One by one, everyone takes a seat. Mikey contently plants himself on the floor and in front of Raph, cross-legged and patiently waiting. While Donnie perches on the head of the couch not long after, posed very gargoyle-like. Looking between the seat next to Raph and elsewhere, Leo hesitantly darts his eyes at the two options for a painfully long couple of seconds, before nestling in Splinters armchair, seated further from everyone else. Raph bites away his frown.

Unlike everyone else, Usagi drags in a small stool and nervously takes his seat between Leo and everyone else, in a way where it appears that he doesn’t want to intrude. Leo raises a brow, patting the vacant space next to him, silently inviting him to sit next to him. Usagi shakes his head. 

“Since we get nowhere just talking things out because yes, a simple ‘hear me out’ leads to a full on intergalactic war,” Mikey lethally daggers his eyes at both Leo and Raph, both who suddenly are more invested with their surroundings than actually looking at each other, before looking at Donnie for help. Left with little choice, Donnie rolls his eyes, dryly following it up, “So we’re stuck playing mediator till you guys figure your shit. Hoorah.” 

“Some shit group therapy this is,” Leo barks out a laugh.

“Community circle,” Donnie raises a pointer finger. “Or restorative circle, or whatever fancy term you want to label this as.” 

“And as stupid as it may sound, it’s nothing compared to whatever baggage you guys are having. Cause instead of actually solving the issue, it appears that you guys went to Jupiter to get more stupider. Like communicating, psh . Who’s she?”

“Oh mi gosh, Donnie.”

Clearly done with an unremorseful Donnie, Mikey clears his throat. He makes his way in front of the projector. “And because we are talking about our feelings, ohh the horror! We gotta include a couple rules.” Whipping out his Dr. Feelings persona, he pushes back his signature round glasses, clicks the projector on, pulls out a makeshift screen and extendable stick, ready to point at the numbered rules. Where he got that out so quickly, Raph still hasn’t got the slightest clue. It makes him feel a little disturbed how emotionally inclined Mikey is at his current age.

A striking whack hits the screen. “First and foremost, everyone has to speak and listen with respect,” he emphasizes. “Otherwise, what’s the point of even being here when we can’t do the bare minimum?” The stick moves down a number.

“Number two: speak your truth. It’s okay if any of us feels offended or hurt, you are your own person. But what ain’t alright is bottling up your emotions. Doing the opposite of that is what ended us here in the first place. This is a space to talk things out, not bite at each other’s necks,” Mikey’s voice hitches momentarily, but continues to unwaver. “So I won’t accept shouting or any mockery, got it?”

A series of yes ’ rang out the tense room, while a darkly muttered, “You and me both,” could be heard from Leo. Subconsciously, Raph curls his tail closer, unsure why he feels shame and guilt wash down. 

Raph needs to fix this. Only Raph can do it.

After reiterating everyone’s contribution to honoring each other’s privacy (now it’s Donnie’s turn to look away) and to be mentally present, Mikey gets closer to wrapping things up. “To make things fair, only one of us can talk if we have a talking piece. That way, everyone gets a say without being interrupted.”

Seemingly unplanned for this part, Mikey frantically looked for items that could possibly serve as a talking piece. Picking up on his panic, Usagi quickly unties his ears, handing a relieved Mikey his teal bandana. Unaware of a stunned Leo, desperately trying to cough away his rising flush before anyone could point it out.

“To start things lightly, how about we do a little check-in?” Everyone nodded to Mikey’s suggestion, satisfied that they won’t have to jump into the meat of things. “I’ll pass it to Raphie afterwards, but I encourage everyone to think about your favorite, and least favorite moment of today.”

“For me, I liked how my new chocolate chip cookie brownie thingamajig recipe worked! Tried it and gosh was everything perfect; super decadent, crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside. Mhm-mhm! But forgetting to use my Aloe cream was definitely my least favourite part,” Mikey admits. “Yeah… felt like I was moving 5 frames per second with how achey everything was.” Small laugh could be heard muffled. Finishing up, he handed it to Raph.

The snapping alligator fidgeted with the fabric, contemplating on his word choice. “Raph liked his morning spar, always made Raph feel great and energized,” he smiled to himself, silently beaming at the supportive circle rubs from Mikey. “And as for least favorite,” his smile drops. “Finding Leo was kinda stressful, won’t lie to ya’. Really thought something bad happened.”

He really tried to not sound guilt-trippy; the last thing he wants is to make Leo feel bad about something he did, when Leo willingly volunteered to sit down and talk things out. But apparently he did a horrible job at keeping his tone at bay, because he could’ve sworn he heard a gasp. But by the time he turned to Leo’s direction, the younger sibling was already invested in the next person’s check-in.

“I mean, today was fine,” Donnie nonchalantly hums. “Oh! But I did manage to hack into some kid’s account after he wronged me in a game of-”

“That doesn’t count, Don.”

Donnie sticks a tongue out at Leo, only for it to be returned. Some things never change. “Like you’re any better,” the softshell pinches the end of the bandana, leaning away as if it’s a contaminated specimen. Usagi looks the least bit phased. “If playful antagonizing doesn’t count, then I suppose fixing a bug in my coding script counts. The only downside will be the fact that I’ll have to eat cold, unfresh pizza.”

He eagerly dropped the bandana onto Usagi’s lap, quickly lathering a more-than-generous amount of sanitizer on his hands. Usagi blinks in complete and utter confusion.

“Um,” Usagi looks across the makeshift circle. “Are you sure? I mean, I’m only here as moral support but,” he looks down at his bandana. “I don’t know, I feel like I’m intruding.”

I don’t belong here.

“Nonsense, you’re pretty much family at this point,” Leo preens, a shy smile fixed on his lips. 

No he’s not, Raph wanted to say. He never was and never will be. And Raph would’ve out right said that, blurted it out for all the Hidden City to hear if his eyes didn’t fall in their direction, landing on the interlaced fingers.

Leo and Usagi were… holding hands… and the look in their eyes...

What did he miss out on this time?

“Well, if you say so. Working at Huseo’s was pretty good. I mean, free food is always good food,” Usagi chuckles to himself. “Can’t really say I’ve come across anything too bad. A couple petty customers don’t usually bother me.”

By the time the talking piece mantled down to Leo, he looked, for lack of a better word, on edge. Tense. “I’m feeling… um,” he stuttered, the fabric bounced to the beat of the jittery leg. “Doing alright. Okay-ish day.”

“Hey, remember what Mikey said earlier?” He eyed Usagi’s pensive gaze, body unmoving, all before letting out a tired sigh. 

“Okay, yeah. Speak truthfully. Right. Um. I’m feeling a lot of things, not great ones for sure. Tired, like shit, uh. And I guess angry? I dunno, man. Hard to tell sometimes.”

Leo shoves the bandana to Mikey, who held it for several moments. The dim lights danced upon the pale scars stretched across his palms. Mikey smiled at everyone. “Thanks guys. It’s really nice to hear your ups and downs, whether it’s a huge or small aspect.”

“As much as I know how much ya’ll want to get a word out,” Raph didn’t. Raph has nothing to confess. “It would be best if I gave Leo the floor, since he invited us all to discuss a couple things.”

Leo gave him a wordless nod.

Then silence - he’s pretty sure it’s because, well, stuff like this is awkward (not for Mikey, talking about emotions is ingrained in his blood, but Raph supposes that even he doesn’t know how to ring everyone in). Leo kept fidgeting and twirling and twisting the teal fabric, unsure how to start a conversation as serious as this and Raph can’t help but sympathise with him. He wouldn’t know how to start one either. Now that he’s really thinking about it, he doesn’t remember the last time they all had a heart-to-heart. Not after winning against Shredder…

“I don’t like the way you’re treating me, Raph,” Leo blurts out, speaking so fast that it almost sounds like a singular word. Raph thinks carefully about saying his next words, but then remembers the absent feel of fabric. He shuts his mouth.

“Everything was too much when dad made me team leader. I mean, it wasn’t bad at first - loved the attention, but yikes was too much for me. The responsibility became too overwhelming,” a waterfall of bottled thoughts thundered from Leo, evidently too hard to stop the flow of words, than to keep it going. 

Raph curled into himself more at the response. Memories from that time weren’t so pleasant, but Raph feels like it was more of a collective agreement; Leo wasn’t the only one to lose something that night. 

“I kept trying so hard to meet your expectations. Really, I did. There wasn’t a day I wasn’t thinking about how much of a fuck-up I was because I was constantly reminded that hey, one of us could literally die and it’ll be your fault. I did everything you guys wanted - got my act up and not my funny up, and took training seriously but it just wasn’t enough,” Leo gritted. 

“I was so desperate to be a good leader. To be like you, Raph. And any grand idea I had going on didn’t feel good enough, no matter how hard I tried, or how carefully planned it was, until one day I just,” he sucked in a breath, wearily looking at a wide-eyed Raph for the first time today. “Gave up. I stopped trying and started acting reckless, all to pissed you off because hey, making you take that role from me is one way to getting things back to how they were. Back before I was constantly ignored whenever I asked for suggestions on leading a team. Before I got judgy looks from Donnie, and before I had to fake it till I made it because Mikey wouldn’t stop asking me questions I didn’t know the answer to.”

Raph knew it was bad, but not the full extent. 

He couldn’t have said those horrible words to Leo… right? To hear those words pour out of Leo’s mouth was simply daming, heartbreaking at best, but he had to hold back that intense burn searing behind his eyes. This wasn’t about him, it was about Leo.

“And then the Krang invasion happened,” Leo bitterly bites, shivering at the forbidden mention. It really struck Raph how this was the first time Leo has ever uttered the same, rather flat-out ignoring it, or substituting it for nicknames if he really had to. “And then you went from ignoring me, to suddenly caring about me? What the fuck? All because poor ol’ Leo went from hero to zero?”

Raph shook his head. No, that wasn’t right because Raph had always cared about Leo, about his family. “You’ve gotten it all wrong,” Raph impatiently butted in. “Raph only wanted the best for-”

“Please respect the talking piece and wait your turn,” Mikey harshly comments.

A sharp laugh replies to Raph’s outburst, and that’s when Raph knew that he really should’ve waited his turn. “The best? I had no idea you were a comedian, Raphie.”

“Since when did you care about what I did? You didn’t before, so why are you acting like you do now? I genuinely don’t get it,” Leo shoots an icy glare towards Raph’s direction, palms tugged away from Usagi to clench his own. The teal fabric squeezes within his hold. “Was it because I was beaten up, mangled, so badly, that a glimpse at my body was all it took for you to change your mind?” His voice remained passive and unbothered, but Raph can’t say the same for the pounding beat of his heart becoming increasingly louder.

“May Raph have the talking piece now?” He requested, gravelly voice awfully thick, attempting to keep his emotions at bay.

Clearly against it, Leo fiddled with the bandana for a couple seconds before passing it to Usagi to Donnie to Raph. 

Now it was Raph’s turn to make things right. To make everything right.

“Just to make things clear,” Raph starts out. “Raph didn’t like the stupid things you got yourself into, but Raph never hated you,” a small scoff slid out of Leo’s mouth. 

“Leo?” Usagi nudged, his voice quiet. “Feeling alright?”

“I’m good, ‘Sagi.” The nickname falls flat. No matter how many slow breaths Leo took, the fury in his eyes couldn’t be extinguished. “ Real fucking peachy.”

Raph holds his ground. “Meant it. You may think Raph has it out for you, but really, Raph was only trying to protect you. To protect everyone. Because someone with experience in leading had to help you out, as hard as it is to believe, even if you didn’t see it like that.”

All while everyone is listening in, Usagi fumbles and twists the rough fabric of his uniform, attempting to release some pent up stress. An action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Donnie, all whom suspiciously eyes Usagi’s bruised knuckles. He adjusts his goggles. It’s hard to notice beyond the wall of white fur, but heat signatures of irritated blotches never fool Donnie’s high techwear. Did he punch something hard?

“What a load of shit,” Leo dangerously spits. The sudden exclamation snaps Donnie out of his secret hypothesis. “The talking piece. May I use it?”

Truth be told, Raph didn’t. He wasn’t done talking, and he still had so many things to say and explain, but he let the fabric wander back to Donnie’s hands.

The moment Leo grasped onto the fabric, the string of thoughts unleashed like a broken dam. “Enough with the protecting excuse. I’m so sick and tired of you recycling the same lies. I remember when you would give me that sickening, disappointed look, everytime I tried to do good, and that’s not it. You’ve singled me out after every mission, over and over until my brothers’ felt like acquaintances. Coworkers. To the point where I doubted my value for the longest time. Until I couldn’t believe I was worth being around because I failed the one job I was supposed to do. And it’s not like I wanted the stupid leader role anyways; it was given to me, and I never, never wanted this responsibility in the first place.”

“Neither did I.”

“ Puh- lease. You bragged about that shit like no tomorrow.”

“Can you guys stop,” Mikey stresses, straining his voice.

“Well, he started it,” Leo pouts, folding his arms. Raph also looks away.

“I agree with Michelangelo,” Usagi pipes in. “It doesn’t matter who started it, as long as we come to a mutual agreement.”

Raph scoffs, rolling his eyes. Since when did he get a say in butting in? That thought quickly disappeared from a mighty whack to his tail by Mikey.

Patient as ever, Mikey turns to Leo, beckoning him to continue.

“Having this much affection, and attention, and support from everyone, especially you, Raph, after having nearly all my bones crushed, my shell definitely shattered, and mental energy washed down the drain, felt majorly messed up! Laughable, even. And don’t you dare give me that fucking clueless look, Raph. Because your motherhenning was just as overwhelming as you shitting on me in the past. Because I couldn’t tell if you genuinely cared for me. Because I didn’t know what I ever did to you to make you hate me!?”

“You took it away from me!” Raph exploded, shooting up and away from the couch and his shocked brothers. Even Mikey didn’t remind him of the talking piece rule.

“Excuse me?” Leo exclaimed with cold disbelief. “Now you’re upset over me taking away your precious leader role?”

Raph’s fist quivered beside his infuriated form, feeling all the enclosed jar of rage suddenly burst open. “All you kept saying was how everything changed without notice and Raph? Raph didn’t think much of it,” Raph bared his teeth, “Thought it was normal.”

“What did you think was normal?” Leo asked slowly, blinking away his scrunched look.

Squaring his shoulders, Raph let out a whispered confession, “To be this stressed this young.” Something foreign slithered down his face, and to confirm his dreaded denial, his vocals became suffocated with tightness and eyes bubbled with hotness. By the time his claw touched his face, he was crying. He doesn’t remember the last time he cried in front of someone.

“Never thought it was weird to have that much pressure on you. We-Well, Pops’ did that to me, and Raph turned out fine?” Raph weakly hiccupped, now cradling himself closer to himself. The attention on his vulnerable state was getting uncomfortable by the second. “He was under a lot of stress too, so it was natural to help him out, and it was understandable why he chose me to be the leader. Because Raph is the eldest. But to have that role robbed overnight hurt. So fucking much. Raph was the one that decided changes, and yet, Raph couldn't handle it being made for me."

The silence became too deafening, but Raph couldn't stop talking even if he wanted to. Part of him felt free from admission, relieved that such a weighing secret has been unveiled and out, and yet, the other part couldn't help but feel guilty. Ashamed. That's he's letting his family, the most important people in his life, into one of his most darkest secrets.

He doesn't think he can look at Leo's face. Empathetic? Unphased? The slightest chance that he'll look at him with disgust, honest to God, frightened him. 

"And as awful as it may sound, you were right, Leo. It took me an embarrassingly long time to admit that Raph was in the fault, which is no excuse for the hurtful actions caused. The sight of your unmoving body was too much for me, and Raph swore to himself that he would make things right. To prevent a situation like this from happening again. Because never in my life would Raph ever want you to feel cornered and scared like you did with the Krang general."

"Oh Raphie..."

Raph snapped his head away from the wavering voice. He didn't need pity. His previous actions spoke louder than anything, and all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and hide. 

Geez, who knew facing mistakes was this hard.

"It's not your fault," Mind Raph reasoned. "You didn't know any better."

Raph continues on, pushing through because the least he could do was give Leo an explanation into his thought process, to let him know that he really did try to protect him. "Couldn't afford to lose my brother again, and Raph's brain wouldn't shut up about how your next day might be your last," he said, lower lip quivering. Probably because he was so used to being stressed, that he didn't even register how messed up his thought process was, during that period of time. Raph looks down at Mikey and oh. Oh. Those worried eyes and thinly pressed mouth told him everything he needed to know, because perhaps he wasn't supposed to experience any of that at all

That can't be, Raph's desperately tried to persuade himself, to think of a plausible solution. But trying to envision Mikey in his position only led to a heavy ache in his heart, anchoring him down because someone as sweet, as brave as him doesn't deserve to go through that. 

"And well, Raph thought that maybe, just maybe, if Raph could keep you safe by keeping you sheltered just a little longer, then you'll be safe."

Mustering the courage in him, Raph slowly looks up from his feet, scanning every face before landing on Leo. Tear streaks paint his cheeks, staring with an agape mouth. Oh. Perhaps he's not mad at him after all. "But really," Raph weakly chuckles. "Raph was the one hurting you, wasn't he?"

Topaz eyes puncture an emotional wound through and past Raph’s plastron. Leo looked like he was on the verge of crying again, but perhaps it looked like a different type of cry. One that wasn’t infuriated at him.

Maybe. Hopefully. Raph didn’t actually know. He just doesn’t like seeing Leo cry because of the mistakes he made.

Now holding onto the talking piece, Usagi swallows away the thundering nerves coursing in his veins. “As for discussing how Leo and Rapheal’s fights have impacted me, it’s clear that I wasn’t majorly affected.”

Usagi looks at Leo, unaware of his tender gaze as he fixates on his trembling hands. “But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t,” he mournfully admits. “I may not have known Leo for a long time, but he has made me happier than I could’ve imagined,” he doesn’t repress the gentle smile forming on his lips, recalling every unimaginably wild adventures he and Leo have gone through. Experiencing both the epic highs and lows, but together. “I value Leo’s opinion a lot, and it hurts to see him like this. Hurts even more when all I can do as a friend is comfort him.”

He passes his bandana onto Donnie. Unsurprisingly, he shakes his head, forwarding the piece to Mikey. “I’m good,” he responds to Mikey’s imminent frown. He’s not obligated to share his thoughts, Mikey reminded previously, but it is highly recommended. “Understandably, it is quite therapeutic to say it out. But personally, I prefer to speak one on one. With Nardo.”

Coming to the mutual agreement, Mikey inhales deeply. Everyone has their eyes on the youngest. 

“It didn’t matter much to me at first,” Mikey licks the dryness of his lips. Despite his therapist persona, even he gets a little nervous revealing the closeted thoughts plaguing his mind. He’s just like everyone else. “Fights usually come and go, so I didn’t mind it when Leon and Raph started bickering. Then the fights got more heated and frequent, and it got harder for me to tell whether or not they were kidding around. Which was scary because it comes to me naturally. But not this time,” letting the fabric lie on his lap, he takes off his glasses, gently folding them, before placing it on the coffee table. The cookies are starting to get cold. 

“Sonner or later, they started asking me who was right, who was wrong. And it felt wrong. It felt so wrong,” Mikey croaks out. He takes a moment to stop before stubborn tears found it’s way down his freckled cheeks, breathing in four beats and exhaled out another four. “Because of the divide, they made me feel like I had to pick a side. I didn’t want one of them to favor me while the other felt betrayed. We were supposed to be a family, and families were supposed to stick together.”

And wow, didn't that seal the deal. Waves of searing hotness poured down his cheeks, but Raph couldn't find the energy in him to mask it up, pull it under the rug and act like everything was fine when it wasn't. Not when he was inadvertently affecting his brothers, and apparently himself. Back then, he didn't think, no, know that his petty arguments would create invisible demons to loom and latch onto his brothers' minds.

His gaze locked onto his clawed feet, picking under the dirt under his claws. 

Just how long would've Mikey gone radio silent on the issue if they hadn't talked this out today? To pretend that they're family were picture perfect in front of everyone else and themselves? That he wasn't just the victim, but the offender too?

Mikey dragged a hand over his snout, ignoring the slightly disgusted look from Donnie. “Well everyone,” he hands the bandana to Usagi. “I really appreciate your contributions, and I’m glad we had this talk. It’s important that we addressed the betrayal, shame, and abandonment experienced, in order to start the healing process. So we can rediscover trust, belonging, and see our own value again. Really hope that everyone got something out of- OMFPH!

Without sudden notice, giant arms swoop everyone into a bear hug. The crushing pressure was bordering overwhelming, but considering the recent topic of discussion, nobody could possibly have the heart to point it out. Plus, Raph’s bear hugs were always the best.

“What the hell, Raphie,” Leo softly grits, arms blanketing around the snapping alligator, face buried into the crook of his neck. Puddles of wetness begin to pool. “You know you don’t gotta go through that alone.”

“Raph knows, it’s just,” an inward sigh escapes. “Hard.” He fidgets with the black hoodie Leo currently sports, playing with the hood. "It's hard to support you while being jealous. Hadn't known how badly Raph hurted you till now."

“Honestly? Life is hard,” Donnie presses his mouth in a thin line. Everyone nods, agreeing with the sentiment, even Usagi, who somehow is content with staying inside the weighing pressure. Or maybe he’s just too frightened to speak his truth. Only he knows.

"And Mike," Leo mentions. "I'm sorry, like, really sorry for putting you on the spot. It wasn't... it wasn't right for me, me and Raph to do that to you." 

Raph silently nods. Snuggling closer to his brother, Mikey sighs with relief. "You're not forgiven yet, but I'm glad that this talk happened."

Even with that answer, both brothers are contempt with that answer. Raph hugs Leo a little closer. “I’m still sorry for putting you through that,” he whispers. The tightness in his throat constricts once more and he lets his eyes fall shut. “Raph promises to make it up to you. Really.”

“Yeah yeah, I got it, big guy,” Leo playfully pats his head.  “Just mean what you say when you say we’re co-leading.”

“Ditto.”

“We’re cool, yeah?”

“Yeah, we are.”

Chapter Text

There are times like these where Usagi forgets how lonely he used to be. Before he donned the vigilante persona and metal mask, he was just an hyperactive, a little too scrawny for his age teenager, and apprentice of Karasu-Tengu. He didn’t have much for his age, but he didn’t really complain. Not when he didn’t know that he should’ve had more than a small straggle of friends and a stern teacher. 

So, the next time Usagi steps foot into the Hamato household, he doesn’t feel the imminent loom weighing before him like a bag of bricks. Which is great, amazing even, definitely a huge upgrade from being publicly ostracized. But it still doesn’t rule out the weirdness he feels. It’s kind of silly. Considering the amount of times he’s visited, anyone would’ve mistaken him for a permanent family member.

In front of him, Leo animatedly greets him, albeit talks way too fast for him to comprehend with hands moving quicker than the speed of light. He looks happier than usual. Without giving him much of a choice, a hand gently curls around his wrist and leads him down a route he remembers all too well. After all, Leo’s bedroom is the furthest from everyone else.

Usagi steals glimpses of the colorful home. Even when he’s been to the same place so many times, there’ll always be something new patiently waiting for him to discover.

Say, a freshly spray-painted artwork complimenting the wall of the skating rink, one mostly likely committed by Mikey. Or the numerous stickers embezzled with a large purple (“Violet,” Donnie seethed. “It’s Violet, you uneducated heathens.”) letter in the shape of a ‘D’, stuck in low, high, and unbelievably high places, because of course, only Donnie is petty enough to trademark sixty percent of everything. And recently: Raph’s new habit.

Raph still is brooding as ever, greeting him with a reluctant grunt, clearly not bothering to stick around within Usagi-proximity and usually leaves before anyone can object. Or doesn't. It's only when he passes the shared dojo that he hears heavy thuds and gasps, the grip around him never ceasing to loosen. Thundering echoes of punching bags sing a telltale story that he won’t be leaving anytime soon. But at least Usagi can breathe easy, knowing that he won’t outright say how everyone’s better off staying away from him. At least he’s putting in the effort to like him, or maybe he’s putting in the effort for the sake of his family. Usagi doesn’t want to indulge that thought.

And before he even realized, both him and Leo are slowing down to a still, standing face to face with the abandoned, yet homely customized, train carriage of a room. Blue light softly shining past the curtained windows.

"After you," Leo bows, placing a hand on his stomach while the other faces outwards, knees bent. 

Usagi rolls his eyes, not bothering to hide his sharp snort. Dramatic per usual. "Thank you, your majesty," he jests, before letting himself in, sighing as the wave of familiarity washes over him. 

Not that he'll give the latter the satisfactory ego boost, but all in all, Leo's room is his favorite. Greeted by a rectangular Leo-heighted mirror, strings of fairy lights tangle from above, the pale blue light reflecting on the pile of clothes, specifically jackets and hoodies, dangerously spilling from his laundry basket in the far corner. He likes how all his socks are mismatched, but color coordinates his clothes like he's got a degree for it; he likes how his room smells like pinewood and lemon grass and sleep; and he likes how the ceiling is sporadically spread with glow-in-the-dark stars, big ones, small ones, emulating a soft green glow near the dark corners. Truthfully, it's a mess. It looks a hundred times messier than it did when he initially came over. But it's something you'd expect from a teenager with a long streak of impulsivity and charisma. Even then, he prefers this than a neatly folded bed and neatly tidied flooring and shelves so clean, dust were the only remnants of life. 

Picking up on the tiny click of the door, he makes his way to the unmade bed, ready to unwind and listen to Leo babble about the latest hot topic, when he hears him call his name. Usagi turns around, eyes curiously following Leo. He quirks a brow.

"Chillax, I'm not going to surprise you," Leo reassures. "Well, yes, it is a surprise," he feigns pondering before quickly clarifying, "but not in that way! A good way!"

Leo walks past him and towards the end of the subway, gesturing Usagi to follow suite. So... no lazy hangouts? Undecided on curiosity and suspicion, Usagi bumps against Leo's shoulder. It's almost foreign for him to do that. He's still getting used to seeing Leo not covering his shell, but he thinks he's handling the change better than anyone else in his position would.

Usagi deadpans. "Liar liar, pants on fire."

"My pants are not on fire, thank you very much. Fact of the matter, I'm not even wearing pants."

"Last time I came over, you prepared me lunch. And laced it."

Beside him, Leo mimes his hand as Usagi talking, earning him a jab to the side. It doesn't give him the full satisfaction, but seeing a slight grimace on Leo is better than nothing. "Psh, that's all in the past. And I didn't think you had a virgin spice tolerance!" Leo sputters. 

"Don't ever call my intolerance that," Usagi wrinkles his nose, remembering that fateful day in which he doubled down in front of everyone, hacking a lung from a bite of Chicken Tinga. He didn't dare outwardly state Leo's cooking was beyond his spice limitations, a fault of his own, so he resigned himself to finishing the plate with bloodshot eyes, plate surrounded by multiple glasses of cold water. Not that he has any evidence to back himself, but he's pretty sure Leo also has an abysmal spice tolerance. Moreso, he's pretty sure he sprinkled more chili flakes on Usagi's plate when he wasn't looking. Maybe that's why Raph was so willing to talk make conversation with him that day. That bastard (if he ever called Raph that in person, not that he will, Usagi could say farewell to seeing another day).

They stop at the end of his room. Well, Usagi assumes so, judging how there's a metal wall obstructing their path, minus planks of wood nailed in a circular shape. Any further, they'll be outside. All the while, Leo hunches and attempts to crank open a piece of wood, and another one, before successfully revealing a big enough hole to enter. He barely sweats from the effort, seeming as if he's done this countless times. Usagi gapes.

"Close that mouth of yours," Leo muses, boyishly smiling at Usagi's shock. "You don't want flies in there, don't 'cha?"

Usagi disguises his blush with a cough into his fist, but it comes out high pitched. "Course not," he grumbles, cautiously eyeing the hole. It appears there's some sort of light at the other side. "Why would I question weird shit when I've already met you."

"Hey!" Usagi's lips quirk a smile, making his way inside, imagining the dramatic pout on Leo's face.

And if there's one thing Usagi has learnt over the months staying at the Hidden City, it's to never underestimate his line of thinking, because there'll be things that'll keep surprising him. Even when he thought he's seen everything. So only in this rare moment, Usagi happily accepts defeat and let his eyes wander, presuming that his mouth is once again gaping, and even then, he couldn't bring himself to stop looking stupid.

This place is...

"World shattering? Groundbreaking? Absolutely amazing? I know, I'm just that cool," Leo fills in the silence. Lightly dusting his hands, Leo steps beside Usagi. "Afterall, I made it."

Breaking News: Leo is capable of crafting things. The room is small, cozy, and barely able to contain more than four, but that's expected when you shapeshift the remaining space of your room into a secret hideout. Despite the eerie sight of boarded windows, the fairy lights and abhorrent amount of Jupiter Jim posters provide some sort of comfort. Draped from the ceiling, blankets drape above the several pillows and mat, idly sitting beside more night lights and snacks packs, some opened and forgotten, most unopened. All in all, it reminds him of a chaotic version of a pillow fort.

Looking up, Usagi finds multiple stars randomly stuck. Never change, Leo, Usagi muses before settling into the pile of pillows. To no one's surprise, it feels soft to the touch, almost as if the handstitched pillows of red, orange, and violet, were actively swallowing him whole. Not that he's outwardly complaining, and especially not when Leo has a dopey grin. His aching wrist struggling to support his weight can suck it.

"When exactly did you make this?" 

Humming in thought, Leo scrunches his lips in search of an answer, ripping open a chip packet. It's salt and vinegar, Usagi's favorite. "It was recent, so probably four months ago?"

Leo leans back on the pile of pillows, sighing in relief. "Everyone was constantly bugging me and sometimes, it was too much. I wanted out sometimes, y'know?"

He nods his head. But then he realizes that Leo was looking at the ceiling rather him, so he squeezes a "yeah," past his munching. 

"Huseo's was always my go-to place. Free food and free entertainment are hard to resist. But," a tired sigh escapes him. Usagi shuffles closer to listen to him, even when his hearing ascends godly levels and when his current sitting position was too comfortable to leave. He heard from somewhere that small acts can go a long way to make someone feel better. "I dunno, dude. It sucked when their presence was suffocating me during my med-bay days. But it was worse when they showed up at Tio's place."

Usagi doesn't need to question who the 'they' in question were. There was a reason why Leo cried his heart out on that chilling, tension ridden night. Not that he could blame him - from what he knew, Leo was keeping all these thoughts to himself, letting his boundaries be trampled in hopes of satiating the worries of his family. Which is a good thing that it's different now. Speaking of which...

"How are things with your brothers?" Usagi suddenly remembers the question he forgot to ask when he last came over.

A soft smile tugs at Leo's mouth, forehead creases smoothening out. "Good. Really good, actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I feel like they're actually listening to me. Feels like they're taking me seriously when I want them to," Leo munches, chip crumbs dancing below his lips. "It took them a while to stop tiptoeing around my injuries and actually trust me. But I can't really blame them, I suppose." Usagi clenches his fist, restraining himself from doing something stupid. The urge to brush them away is becoming borderline difficult. Would Leo's lips feel soft if he were to touch them? Or scaly? He wants to know more. He wants Leo to talk more. To smile more. To shoot back his classic snarky remarks more. So it would give him a reason to feel them under his own.

... Huh?

Oblivious as ever, Leo keeps rambling, unaware that Usagi subconsciously tuned him out in favor of dealing with whatever horrific realization he made. "... And while team bonding is sort of boring, I say it's an upgrade. Corny? Yes. Do I give a fuck? Not one, not ten."

"Uh," Leo slightly flushes under Usagi's watchful gaze. Usagi doesn't even want to touch his own, fearing that he's no better. "Earth to Usagi?"

"That's good to hear," Usagi ignores the question. Nice save, his mind sneers.

"But really, it's all thanks to you, 'Sagi."

Softening his gaze, Leo glances at him before quickly looking away, distracting himself by unceremoniously ripping a box of pocky open, gawking at the pocky sticks rocket launching into the air. If Usagi has never seen the overly confident boy in front of him look nervous, well, now is probably the best example. Usagi witnessed a family reamending itself throughout the decay of Winter and birth of Spring. Truly, it was a laborious, yet rewarding experience to be apart of. Tears were shed, voices were raised, apologies were confessed; but what mattered was that they tried to understand each other. There was no way he could be jealous of something like this after knowing what Leo went through. What the Hamatos' went through. 

Usagi picks up a broken piece of pocky and from the blue yoga mat (of course it has to be blue) and munches on it. Hm. Pretty nice. 

"But there's no way I'm telling them about this room. Hell no," Leo crosses his arms. "5-minute crafts be damned, I build this from scratch. Scratch! And well," a rough cough rips through his throat, but Usagi heard what he said.

Unimpressed, Usagi snarls his lip. He's not doing a good job at keeping his disappointment at bay, but he supposes it's a good thing since he wasn't trying to. "You made it while neglecting your injuries??"

"I didn't want my ass hounded," Leo winces. "So technically, you're the only person that knows about this."

"Then you shouldn't have made it in the first place? Maybe find somewhere to be alone?"

"My back wasn't hurting that much. I'm fine."

"Then I'm suddenly good at handling spice," Usagi looks at him blankly, grumbling, "Fine, my ass."

"C'mon now," Leo pouts within Usagi's line of sight. "You're supposed to back me up." It would be cute if not for the circumstances previously mentioned. He knows Leo will come around with the topic of the hideout, whether he wants to or not.

"Huuuh, who said that. That's weird. Must've been a ghost," Usagi pretends to look around, smiling wider at Leo's stifled giggles. Oh, and he's doing that a lot more recently. The whole smiling thing feels sort of foreign considering his whole situation, because really, there wasn't a reason to be happy this much or smile this hard, when he resigned his life to doom and gloom. Then Leo had the audacity to walk into his life and make it his mission to be that reason. His reason.

Leo shuffles closer, wiping his chip dusted fingers on his shorts, before he magically whips out a console. It's grey, banged up, and are those bite marks around the corners? He calls it a 'Nintendo' but Usagi doesn't really see the hype. Even when he's explaining the rules to playing Mario Kart, he doesn't really listen. And once their avatars line up at the start line, he remembers to periodically look at the screen, pretending to put an effort into winning even when the controls are stupid hard to adapt, because he doesn't want to get caught staring at the most beautiful boy he's ever met.

"You're the only person that knows about this."

He jams his thumb on the buttons. Usagi pretends those words don't rattle his caged heart, fearing it may burst open if he were to think more of it.

-

"So, you're telling me that you and Donatello shoplifted so many unicorn plushies within the span of four days, to the point where the Hidden City proclaimed a law limiting two purchases per person. All for a bet," Usagi says slowly.

"Close, three days."

"Not helping the fact that you gave them chocolate coins as compensation?"

"Fuck the patriarchy, 'amirite?"

And that's kind of how Usagi wounded up spending the past minutes, hell, hours, with Leo. Just talking about the most randomest of things. If Usagi were to think long and hard, this might probably be the longest he's ever spent staying over. Most of time he hangs out, or what Usagi likes to call 'finding an excuse to give something to Leo and oh sure, I don't mind staying for a while, why not', he's restraining himself from overstaying his welcome.

He has to blame Leo for making time feel non-existent. 

"At least Donatello has the decency to pay them back," Usagi rolls his eyes at Leo squawking for an excuse. "Think I prefer him than an openly proud shoplifter. Who happens to have a horrible sense of humor. Who happens to lack common sense on multiple occasions," he continues to add on, relishing the horrified look growing on Leo.

"My therapist now knows your name, 'Sagi. You're on thin fucking ice," Leo warns, but the smile in his eyes betrays him.

Oh, and that's a thing now. After the long awaited, much needed family (sans Splinter) intervention, they've all collectively agreed to do something about their situation, not wanting to go through the hellish cycle all over again: seeking professional help on two occasions. One dedicated to one-on-one, the other dedicated to family therapy. After all, Dr Feelings could only do so much. Surprisingly, Leo wasn't as adamant about not seeing a therapist as Usagi thought; if anything, he seemed defeated, but in an accepting way. He seemed tired. Probably years of fighting his own mind allowed himself to cave.

And so far, so good. Recovery wasn't a linear process - that'd be wishful thinking. 

Usagi sat upright, preparing to leave, waking Leo from his daze. "Leaving already?" 

"Yeah," Usagi replies distantly. "My family's waiting for me. Back home," he averts his eyes. 

It's only after a painfully long silence, when Usagi is about to leave their hideout, that Leo speaks up. "O-or we can have a sleepover! Yeah! We can stay up really late and eat all the junk we want. It'll be fun."

"Want me to stay that badly?" Usagi smirks.

"Actually, Yeah. I do," Leo sheepishly rubs his nape. Oh. Well, that wasn't a response he was expecting. "So what d'ya say?"

He can feel the faint nervousness strumming on his reply, waiting with anticipation for his decision. But while Leo lives a life of truth, Usagi resigned himself one of lies. He's chosen a path where he doesn't have a family to return back to when he's overjoyed or burdened by the mean, mean, place of a world. One that remains in one constant, familiar place because he's always on the move.

But like Leo, Usagi is just so so tired. Tired of running, but does so anyways, because what else could he do than move forward, push on, and grit out the pain solely deserved for a villain like himself? What will he become if he doesn't look back - that, he doesn't want to find out.

A hand places on his shoulder, his scarred shoulder. Usagi forces himself out of his head.

"I mean, you don't have to. Just a suggestion."

Sighing inwardly, Usagi cocks a smile. The thought of crashing around his boss' place makes him feel slightly nauseous, a twinge of guilt for making him commit more than he bargained for when he initially recruited Usagi. He hired him as a waiter, not adopting him. It's either that, or abandoned vans unsuited for someone like him, or anyone really. So, he chose the alternative. 

"You better not sleep first, grandma."

"Oh you're so on."

-

Or maybe he committed more than he bargained for, he considers with his arms crossed, listening to Leo list reasons about why he should sleep on the floor, while offering Usagi the luxury of sleeping in his bed. Really, it's stupid. He's never met a more indecisive person in his life. And what's stupider is that Leo's seriously offering to make a powerpoint presentation about the heavily weighed pros. Again, stupid.

"For the last time, I don't care if I sleep on the floor. I'm used to it."

"That doesn't help!"

"I sleep on a futon, Leo. Bedding on the floor. It's pretty much in my blood."

"Oh. Makes sense... But still! It's only right that I offer, since you're the guest and all."

"I don't know whether to feel honored or offended since we've been hanging out for what? Months?"

"Oh, I know! We can both sleep on the floor."

"Leo, I'm being serious right now. If you complain about back issues the next morning, I'll never let you hear the end of it," Usagi massages the growing ache between his eyes. This argument is getting borderline ridiculous. "And may I remind you about your still healing injury? Donatello specifically ordered you to rest your shell on soft surfaces. Not hard surfaces. And personally, I would rather have you pouting at me all night than have my soul sacrificed to your brothers."

"You're being dramatic," Leo places his hands on his hips.

"You're being dramatic."

"Am not!"

"Yes, you are."

"Am not."

"Yes you - oh my god come here," a surprised yelp rips from Leo, not expecting Usagi to yank them both onto the bed. "We're both sleeping on the bed. Happy?" 

"Yeah," Leo licks his upper beak. "Yeah, we can do that. Just, um," having caught on his message, they both shuffle to rest comfortably. Leo chirps, secretly glad Usagi fluffed up his pillow against his shell before the rabbit resigned himself to sleeping on the outside. The bed is smaller than Usagi had thought, leaving just enough space where their legs don't touch, feeling the soft breaths from Leo. Usagi feels the tips of his ears grow hot. They lie face to face.

Usagi yawns.

"C'mon now! If you sleep now, then this sleepover'll be boring."

"Then what ideas do you have, genius?"

"Hm," Leo looks away, deep in thought. He clicks his fingers. "We can play two truths, one lie!"

Noting the confused look on Usagi, Leo explains the rules. By the time Leo finishes, Usagi fiddles with the hem of his shirt, mouth biting his tongue. Leo doesn't want to say he looks uncomfortable per say, but rather, hesitant? 

Usagi dries his tongue, throat bobbing. "Isn't it a bit invasive?"

"That's the best part! It's one way we can get to know each other."

"But what if I told you I don’t think you want to," Usagi whispers.

"Well, sure, you can do that," Leo replies. "But I think one way to not be scared of something is to, y'know, talk about it. Baby steps. Talking about it with someone you trust helps." The uncertain look doesn't go unnoticed from Usagi, appearing to hold onto each word Leo says. "And what if I do want to know you more? Will you let me?"

When Usagi doesn't respond, Leo takes the opportunity to make the first move.

"I'll go first," Leo spends a couple seconds thinking of about what to say, ranging from mild to downright diabolical facts. "I slammed my leg into the corner of a brick wall, my family moved here to lay low from Big Mama, or I bought Donnie expired jellybeans and he ate them."

"Oh god," Usagi pales. "I don't like this game anymore."

"Too bad, you always signed up for this."

"Why couldn't you have chosen normal answer." A moment passes before Usagi declares his answer. "Please be the leg option," Usagi winces, though, it sounds like he's saying it to reassure himself than Leo.

"Nope," Leo proudly admits. Beneath the blanket, Leo raises his leg. There's a faint, but undoubtedly, vertical scar lined up with his bone structure. "Donnie didn't eat the jellybeans."

Usagi twists his face. "That means you saw your..."

"Bone structure? Yup," Leo says, drawing out the 'p'. "Pretty freaky. It's like stabbing and ripping out the stuffings of a teddy bear."

Now Usagi genuinely looks sick. His face looks a little green and there's a thin sheen of sweat under his bangs. "Aw dude, nono don't go thinking about that in detail," Leo tries to distract him. "It's all in the past, I didn't even feel that much pain. Adrenaline's a crazy useful thing."

"I suppose," Usagi weakly smiles. "But what about the second option? The one about Big Mama? Are you in danger or...?"

"Oh god, no. She's chill. A bit overprotective? Yeah. But apart from the whole... Shredder thing, it's just my dad's weird situationship with her."

"I see," Usagi visibly relaxes. He looks like he wants to press on, but he closes his mouth before he could continue that train of thought. "I suppose it's my turn?"

Leo nods.

"Hm. Alright, I've got it. I keep maple syrup packets in my pocket, I like the color purple -" 

"Lame," Leo bemoans. 

"- Or I stuck a grape up my nose to see it would fit.

"Now that's more like it."

For a while, they shared the most ridiculous, out of pocket stories. Who knew Leo teleported his brothers to Tahiti? Not until now, that's for sure. And as their game continued, the more tired they felt, but it's not like Usagi will admit it when Leo won't admit the growing heaviness from his eyes. It was fun. Honest to God fun, and probably the most fun he's never dared dreamed to have in a really long time. 

The night grows quiet, and yet, the thoughts don't stop running in his mind, rotating and twirling like cogwheels. But while the fun dies down and he can hear Leo's soft snores, the constant question burns in the back of his mind: is Leo trustworthy enough to reveal his alter ego?

He's scared shitless, to put it lightly. Not only was he already treading dangerous waters, wanted posters and everything, but simply letting him in on one of his darkest secrets feels foreign. Feels wrong, dirty. It feels like he's roping him in and jeopardizing his life. If something bad were to happen to Leo? And Usagi wasn't there to protect him? He'll never forgive himself. And what's to say that Leo will accept confession and not turn his back at him. Maybe it is for the better that he doesn't tell him, even if it's crushing him. Better let this secret eat him from the inside out than ruin this friendship. Because what if Leo sees the true Usagi, hands sullied by the indiscernible crimes committed, and he runs the other way.

"What's up?"

"The ceiling," Usagi weakly replies.

Creaking open an eye, now it's Leo's turn to look unimpressed. "Har har, so now you're a comedian now. The waiter gig didn't cut it?" The light tone doesn't help ease the discomfort raging in Usagi's stomach. The delayed answer intensifies the ache. "Listen, you literally heard me yap when I needed someone. I only think it's fair that I returned the favor, no?"

Leo rolls his eyes at Usagi's unsure look, nodding his head for the other to talk. "Lay it on me."

Taking a deep breath, Usagi confesses one of his darkest secrets: "What do you do when you want to tell someone this... big secret. But. You're scared of what will happen next?"

"Well," Leo ponders. "I'm sure that they'll love you regardless."

Usagi studies every surface of Leo's face, seeking for any evidence that the latter is lying. But all he found was hand cradling his face, a confident gaze, and a horrific realization about himself.

But what if he's understanding?

Unbeknownst to Leo, he's opening up a door to Usagi's heart, key dangling from his fingertips. And the worst part? Usagi isn't opposed to it. All those fears etched in the back of his mind suddenly dissolve to nothing but fickle thoughts. Just thoughts. Fiction, not facts. He doesn't think he can go back to living a life in the shadows when he's gotten a taste of this life. He thinks he can get used to it.

He's ready to tell Leo about Ronin.

"Ready for tomorrow, 'Sagi?" Leo murmurs. He's on the brink of sleep, struggling to keep his eyes open, but does so anyways. It's sort of cute. He's cute, his mind teases, giving it everything in Usagi to try steer away from those thoughts. Usagi takes the hand on his cheek and brings it in front of him, letting their entwinned hands rest between them. "Y'better not rock up to the party in your waiter uniform."

"You wish," Usagi closes his eyes, resting well knowing that ticket lies unscathed in his bag. And in his sleep, he dreams of crystal chandeliers and masked party guests and bright lights. He dreams of donning a dark blue suit, one complimenting nicely with his red eyes. He would feel his breath caught in his throat at the sight of Leo, looking ethereal and charming as ever, always catching the attention of everyone and especially catching Usagi's. He would complain about hating Western traditions and Leo would laugh in his face, all before dragging him into a dance and Usagi would let him. Because anything Leo does would make the stuttering ache in Usagi's heart grow and grow until he couldn't hold it in anymore.

In a life where Leo seemingly had everything, he thought he had nothing. But in a life where Usagi seemingly has nothing, maybe, just maybe, he might've really had everything.

Tomorrow, Usagi promises himself. He's ready to tell Leo about everything: Ronin, his feelings, his past. All he has to do is be patient.