sons of winter (1/3)

An anon on fanfiction requested a fic set in my Problem Child ‘verse, about “how Leo and the guys were, before Splinter found them.” 

I know I said I wanted to take more general prompts at the moment, but this one stuck out to me. There’s so much I won’t be able to share about the boys’ past in Problem Child, because Mikey’s the one telling that story and he just doesn’t remember very much about the situation they were in before Yoshi came along, given how young he was at the time. 

So I’ll indulge myself a little, and make this a pretty short threeshot. 

Summary: This is the story of how Hamato Yoshi found four brothers living on the street, and took them in; and how he learned by doing so that there is a wide gulf between taking someone into your home, and taking them into your heart.

The first time Yoshi saw one of them, it was in the heart of Chinatown. He’d heard from a colleague about a nice restaurant there, and with an hour free for lunch, Yoshi decided to seek it out. 

It was, he decided, halfway through a bowl of the best udon he could remember tasting in the United States, a good decision. 

The kindly blind chef was cleaning his work station behind the counter, and Yoshi might have spoken up to compliment the meal, had he not been interrupted by the soft chime of the bells above the door. 

“Welcome,” Murakami called out, and Yoshi was unprepared to hear a child’s voice reply.

“Hi, Mr. Murakami.”

Yoshi couldn’t help turning in his stool to glance at the young one; the boy couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old, and unaccompanied by parents, that was certainly strange. Murakami’s weathered face warmed with his smile, and he beckoned the child closer. 

“Donatello, how are you? You’ve come alone today?”

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Karai’s Nest 1

Blazing flames danced around the floor. The cries of battle and screams of pain surrounded Karai. All of that was drowned out by her focus on the masked figure that stood a several feet before her. 

The figure was shadowy, the fire illuminating their body and glinting off a sword. No emotion to be seen beyond the porcelain mask they wore but Karai could sense–no she could taste the rage and hatred in the air on her tongue.

“Oh, my little garden snake, what a grave mistake you’ve made. For it is your last,“ The voice was multi-layered over, somewhere caught a growl and laugh. 

Karai went to move, but her body was frozen from the weight of her fear. In an instant, the gap between them was closed. Karai felt her body jerk as a blade was slid into her stomach and pulled out cleanly. 

“You fought well, Karai.” Her opponent said as Karai crumbled to the ground, Karai’s eyes heavy and closing.  

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