Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

((Author's note: I felt that it wouldn't hurt to to write from Splinter's POV--just to give me an idea as to how the rat would think and act. And not to mention, this chapter's a good way to remind the readers that Splinter's quite old, and don't have THAT many years left to him...))

Splinter stirred at the commotion coming from the kitchen. It took him a moment to seperate the voices out: Michelangelo was easily the loudest, and was most likely baking his morning pizza as he talked. Donatello sounded fine for one who stayed up late helping a troublesome client. Then, there was Leonardo--his spirits seemed to have risen up again. And...Raphael? Odd...it's not like him to be up this early, but he does seem to be back to his old self, trying to sound tough...

Splinter smiled as he slowly rose out of bed and did his morning stretches. He had been worried about his eldest and hot-headed sons for the last two months. Leonardo had not been the confident leader he usualy was, and the fires in Raphael had grown disturbingly low. He had suspected that both were still suffering from whatever happened the night the eldest turtle was captured by those stone warriors.

Ah--Raphael and Leonardo have finally found a way to properly channel their issues with each other, it seems.

"Sewer sludge!" Raph spat, half-jokingly.

"Bald-headed punk!" Leo retorted back in the same manner.

"Jungle boy!"

"Flame veins!"

"Leon Emoheart!"

"Oooooooohhh," the other two brothers quipped in unison.

The sensei sighed as he dressed; he knew how much his eldest hated being called "Leon", especially after they had played that one game--what was it...? Ah, yes--Kingdom Hearts. Apparently, the young man didn't like being compared to that one characted that was called "Leon".

"Good one, bro!" Splinter could almost imagine Michelangelo's face-splitting smile; his was quite unique, compared to those of his brothers.

"Yep! Haven't lost my touch!" Raphael bragged.

"Oh, really? You seem to be off, O Mighty Terror of Brooklyn!"

"Speak for yourself, Shadow freak!"

"Look who's talkin', Ninja dropout!"

"Oooooooooohhhh!" There went Donatello and Michelangelo again.

Splinter felt that they've been playing that game long enough, so he grabbed his walking stick and calmly walked out into the open.

"Okay, you guys--knock it off!" Donatello's hushed whisper was barely heard by the rat. "Here comes Sensei!"

The rat smiled as he entered the kitchen. Donatello was sitting at one end of the table, munching on a riceball as he glanced through a science journal. Raphael and Leonardo sat on opposite sides of the table, both eating cereal. Raphael was pouring another bowl for himself, while Leonardo was cutting up bananas to put in his cereal. Michelangelo, as usual, had just pulled out some pizza from the oven--and the toppings this morning was bacon, eggs, and pineapple.

It was a scene like this that he remember that one morning...on the day that they met April O'Neil and their lives were changed forever. Somehow...Splinter felt that he had come full-circle during the past two and a half years. His children were all 17 now, and ready to graduate from Chunin level.

"Mreoow?"

Ah, how could he forget Michelangelo's pet cat, Klunk, winding himself around his turtle's legs? And yes, the young turtle belonged to the cat, and not the other way around; it was the way of the feline, the rodent had quickly learned.

"Klunk, not now! I'll feed you in a few minutes!" the youngest son told the house cat.

Yes...this was his family. And Splinter hoped that he could stay with them just a few more years--at least, long enough to see them find suitable girlfriends. He hoped that he could have many, many more of these morning scenes, for they had become too few and far in-between these past 2 years. He hoped that Heaven lets him spend a little more time with his sons...just a little more time.

So, for today, he will savor each moment with the boys he had raised and train.

And with a smile, Splinter greeted those boys, "Good morning, my sons..."