-/Wow, this is a bit of a turnaround from my normal writing. Anyway, this piece is barely in the hatchling stages of its development, and I'll warn you ahead of time that this story will be a bit... well... dark.

This story also mentions 'Hari'. Hari is a ninja hunter that appears in my soon-to-be-written tale called "A Knife in the Dark." She was originally an enemy of the boys, but she was swayed both by the nature of her adversaries and her father's discovery that the Shredder was not as honorable as he claimed to be. She is a delicate, shy, stubborn woman who enjoys ikebana and practicing acupuncture. She is close friends with Leonardo.

Those of you who have read the first part of "Breaking the Habit" and the entirety of "Eyes Wide Shut" will know some of the references and people here.

This story will take a VERY different path than what the current cartoon is, as I know very will this isn't how the Shredder could be offed. But for the plot? It works!

So, please enjoy... and don't bite my head off just yet! Things are going to get very interesting and very unusual from this point out!/-

I remember things as if they were yesterday. So many things happen to change the course of a life... and the events that led up to where we are today are the sort that just never leave you.

So it goes without saying that the events of the last three months of our lives have been more than simply trying. It has been a test of everything we are, as warriors and as a family.

And somehow, despite our losses, we have managed to come out stronger for it...

-MNT Epilogue Saga - Another World-
-Prologue - Deja Past-

We were almost sixteen when we finally faced the Shredder for the final time.

It was not as if we weren't expecting it... and everything was going better than we ever could have hoped.

Of course, it's at points like that when things start to turn rotten.

Our friends were helping us. The ninja hunter Hari, Casey, and April. We were all together... we were all waiting.

It felt like the entire Foot was there. So many humans surrounded us, and the Shredder oversaw the battle. He was letting his soldiers wear us down before he joined the fray himself.

Never had I ever seen anyone lack honor so greatly.

Michelangelo and Raphael were squaring off against Hun. I wanted to help them, but I had my hands full with the Elites. Donatello, April, and Casey were making do against the regular Foot, but they were doing better than they would have with the added assistance of Hari, moving along the rooftops and picking off as many Foot as she could with her acupuncture needles before moving in close to retrieve her weapons. A few lucky strikes and concentration, mostly from where they had foolishly struck her, had her taking out a few Foot Techs as well.

I heard a scream. It was one of those moments that you suddenly can't move, and I kicked the Elite attacking me into one of his compatriots in order to see what had happened. Raphael was at Michelangelo's side, helping him to stand... I gritted my teeth to keep from wretching.

Michelangelo had dropped his nunchaku, one by will, but the other involuntarily. His right arm was hanging limply at his side, and I could easily see what was causing the problem. His shoulder. Hun had practically taken his shoulder apart. At least I thought that was his shoulder... the attaching joint was such a bloody mess that it was impossible to tell what was really part of our youngest brother and what wasn't.

Raphael growled... I knew that expression. He wore it so often. I tried to tell him not to rush into the attack without thinking, but he wouldn't have listened to me anyway. I deflected an attack aimed at my head with the blade of one of my katana.

They had thought I had let down my guard.

That was a foolish mistake on their part.

Shoving away the Elite that had attempted to attack me, I spun, my other katana cutting sharply through his chest. A spray of blood and a short, gurgling grunt of shock was all there was before he was gone.

Just another casualty of this damned battle.

Just another death.

By then, you would have thought death was an everyday occurance to us. It had always been a part of our lives. We were ninja. People didn't always live when you were fighting with real weapons and facing people who were trying to kill YOU.

People didn't always get away without a scratch. Not even us.

Raphael and I had the scars to prove it. Donatello still had difficulty walking if the weather changed rapidly. Michelangelo often suffered violent nightmares.

But we lived with it. We dealt. We survived.

Another attempted attack on my life that ended in failure. I used my katana a bit differently to halt his attack, using them like scissors to end his life in one swift click of the blades.

I didn't even notice the thud as his head hit the roof at my feet, or notice that I was so bloodied.

Raphael was defending our fallen brother with all that he was worth, and I could see from where I stood that he was taking a beating for it. Cuts stood out everywhere on his arms, legs, and face. He looked more red than green, and I knew I had to help. I had to get rid of the Elites before I could help him.

A shriek this time, from a rooftop nearby. Hari had been set upon by the Foot Techs, and they were relentless and ruthless.

Donatello nodded once to the rest of us, instructed April and Casey to his plans, then took off to assist the ninja hunter.

I wish it had been me that had done that. Perhaps things might have gone differently.

With Donatello's help, the Foot Techs were not hard work. However, when one of them threw a handful of small orbs at my brother, I saw his eyes widen. I watched him shove Hari out of the way.

I saw the explosion of brilliant flashes, so close to him.

And I heard his tortured scream.

Two quick swipes had the remaining Elites finally out of the way, and immediately, I made my way to the nearby rooftop. Master Splinter was assisting Raphael now. They would be fine.
I had to move quickly. When I arrived at Donatello's side, the Techs were closing in, and Hari was kneeling beside him, her small hand covering his eyes as his body shook furiously. He was having trouble breathing, but somehow, I knew it was panic.

"Don...?" It didn't even sound like me saying that. "Don, are you okay...?"

"I can't see!" My heart stopped when he said that. "My eyes are burning like they're on fire, and I can't see a thing!"

I frowned, then set about dealing with the remaining Foot Techs. Many were littered around, two acupuncture needles each to some, and others with crushed throats and chests from Donatello's bo.

I got rid of enough of them to send them running. Then, I returned to the side of my brother and the ninja hunter. "Several flash bombs," Hari sighed shakily, "not just one. If it had been one... Leonardo, I do not believe he will regain his sight."

Donatello jerked obviously when he heard that, but I reached out to grasp his shoulder, holding him still. "Hari, stay with him," I instructed calmly. "Protect him. This is it. If I don't take out the Shredder now, this will just keep going... and I won't lose my brothers to him!"

It had taken some doing, but soon, I stood before the Shredder with my head held high. I would not be intimidated by him... I would not let him beat me.

I had to strike off the plate of armor over his stomach. If I did that, I could reveal his true self... I could win.

I didn't think I was going to succeed at first. My blows were deflected so easily, and he did not even seem to notice I was ATTACKING him.

Then, I finally got my chance.

The plate of armor flew off with a heavy clang. The Utrom within glared at me, eyes narrowed to slits. "You...!"

"It's over, Shredder," I hissed. "Now... it's REALLY over."

One slash. One stab. The mechanical armor twitched and recoiled as its operator faded from life. ...Some sort of self-destruct sequence!

I turned to run, but the hand of the spazming robot caught my shell... hard.

I went flying... I heard an explosion.

And that was the last thing I remembered before my whole world went black.

When I woke up, I had no idea what time it was or where I was. I felt a hand over my eyes, and I knew almost immediately it was Master Splinter. "Slowly, my son," he murmured quietly. "Your eyes must adjust to the light. You have been asleep for three days... take your time, Leonardo. Let your eyes adjust slowly."

Although it was trying and uneasy at first, I did as I was told. The room was so bright.

Raphael stood nearby, his wounds bandaged and his face reading tension and anxiety. Michelangelo, shoulder stitched and bandaged with his arm in a sling, had his attention elsewhere... and that was on the form of Donatello, sitting quietly nearby with a thick binding of gauze covering his eyes.

"...Is everyone okay?"

That was the only question I could think to ask. Not 'is the Shredder dead' or 'was I badly hurt'... no. All I could think of was the well-being of my brothers.

All I wanted to know is that they would be all right.

Things were explained to me slowly. I was lucky to have lived, I was told. I had a crack in my shell at least as long as Casey's arm.

Then, the others. Michelangelo's shoulder had been damaged beyond repair, the nerves severed to an irreversable point. He would never use his arm again.

Raphael had taken many severe cuts and wounds from his fight protecting Michelangelo, and this would result in serious scarring.

It was Donatello that held everyone's concern the greatest, however. His greatest asset, aside from his amazing intelligence, was his eyesight.

Today, they were taking off the gauze.

I was finally sitting up when the moment came. It was April that 'did the honors'. Very gently, she cut away the strips of thick bandaging, removing each one as gently as she could. Donatello was not taking the process calmly... he winced every time April's hand brushed his face.

Finally, the last bit of bandaging was removed, and Master Splinter shielded his eyes with one hand. "Like I told Leonardo... open your eyes slowly and tell me what you see."

Our brother did as he was told, and slowly, his eyes came open.

It was strange... like watching a horrible tragedy in a movie. I felt so oddly detached. Donatello's eyes looked so strange from where I sat, and from the silence and expressions that surrounded me, I knew I was not the only one that saw it.

There was a sort of thickness covering his pupils... like so much mist on a cool spring morning. The whole of both of his eyes seemed clouded and milky. His shoulder's stiffened as the horrifying realisation sank in.

"I can't see," he uttered in a hushed, shaky tone. "I can't see a thing."

The silence continued as Master Splinter lifted his hand to rest on top of Donatello's head.

So it was true.

The flash bombs had blinded him.

No one moved or spoke. It would be a long, trying road to recovery now... but we had to move on.

For the next seven or so years, we remained in the lair. With time, it became less about staying together as a family and more about Master Splinter. Our sensei, our father... his health had begun to fail him in those last few years. We all stayed close, never straying too far, and one of us always remained near to the lair in case he should need us.

After much hard work and perserverance, Donatello and Michelangelo had finally learned to live with the disabilities that final, trying battle had left them with. Michelangelo had trained hard to regain any sort of fighting prowess, but the athlete in him prevailed in the end. Even with one arm, he was capable of moving just as quickly and assisting just as intensely.

Donatello had the harder time, but he figured it out. Using his hands and his ears, he figured out how to distinguish many things from others. He discovered a way to keep inventing, and learned Braille. April even brought him a keyboard that was printed with Braille, so that he could keep up with what he was doing. He even developed a set of headphones that allowed him to continue surfing for information online without losing what he would have without his sight. I was the most impressed when he developed the brace Michelangelo eventually trained himself to wear, keeping his limp arm out of the way during practice.

It was on one snowy December evening five years ago - a day that has forever haunted my waking dreams - that our lives were once again turned upside-down.

The day began like any other. Master Splinter confronted us, informing us through raspy breathing and a quiet tone that he was not going to assist us in our training that morning. He was unusually sentimental with us, ushering those few words of praise we heard so rarely. With his usual statement of, "Train hard, my sons. Remember, I shall always be here if you should need me," he went to meditate in the small corner of candles and pillows I had set up for him.

It was Raphael that noticed the sudden change. Usually, when Master Splinter meditated, he would let out a quiet hum. The noise was strange but soothing, reminding all of us of times when we were still very young, growing up together and listening to the heartbeat of our father-figure as we drifted to sleep, long before we ever began our true training.

I was concerned by his observation and took him with me as I went to that corner.

There was no gentle hum coming from our beloved master. He did not move. Actually, he was very still. Too still.

His whiskers and the fur of his muzzle did not shift as they usually would when he breathed. His ears did not quirk forward at the sound of our approach.

Somehow, I believe I knew what had happened, but my mind forced me not to believe it. Slowly, shakily, I reached out and laid my hand against Master Splinter's throat.

There was no pulse. There was no breath. Unable to find my own breath, I choked out, "Raph... he's dead."

Raphael didn't move. He stared at me like I was going to grin and tell him I was joking... that Master Splinter was just asleep.

Then, he screamed. It wasn't a scream of terror or anything like that. That would have been totally unlike Raphael.

It was rage. Distress. Fear. Turmoil. Pain. Grief.

Instantly, Donatello and Michelangelo bolted into the room... the prior slower than the latter. Michelangelo recoiled, but Donatello stood in quiet confusion. Slowly, I reached forward and took hold of his wrist, guiding his hand to Master Splinter's muzzle.

Donatello's face would have blanched if it could have. "...No... when...?"

"I tend to think he must've died meditating," I murmured softly in reply. "At least he went peacefully..."

Raphael choked, clenching his fists at his sides. Michelangelo slowly shook his head, then lowered it, not knowing what to say. Donatello jerked his hand out of my grasp, pulling back. None of us knew what to say... none of us knew how to cope.

How were we going to get by now... now that our anchor was gone?

Casey and April came as quickly as they could after we contacted them. Lorraine and Hari soon followed. It was determining how he would have wanted his body to be honored that was the most difficult task.

In the end, burial was the most likely option, and Casey had a friend who could lend him a refrigerated trailer.

I felt sick just thinking about that prospect.

We went to Casey's grandmother's old farm, where we buried Master Splinter in the back. As often as we could, we agreed, we would come to clean up around the grave... and Lorraine would talk to her brother Vincente, who ran a funeral home, about getting a small headstone made.

That was the point that things changed for all of us... and that was the point where my life took me on a far different path than that of my brothers.

During that year after Master Splinter's death, we drifted apart. Some of us more than others. Donatello and Michelangelo, kept together by their youth and necessity for one another's assistance in their respective disabilities, remained in the lair. Raphael went topside, staying with April and Casey in the basement apartment of April's new shop.

They were never far from one another.

I was the one who felt the urge to be elsewhere... and to this day, I don't think I could tell you why. I returned with Hari to the ryoujin-nin (hunter ninja) village where she was born, and I trained. I trained as she married and had a child... a child that would grow up with the same proud, secretive lineage of her ryoujin-nin parents.

One day... today, actually... I got the urge to sit down and write.

The sun was going down when I did so, and in the small ryoujin-nin (hunter ninja) village, there was no electric light. So, I lit a candle, picked up a pen and paper, and began writing down everything that was on my mind. Everything I could remember.

Which leads me to now. As I sit here, pen in hand, writing this down, I find myself thinking.

I can hear Hari and her husband, Takehiko, outside training with their daughter Amaya... barely four and already training so hard.

Just hearing their family, I find myself missing my own. I have been here for five years, on a warrior's pilgrimage, and although I frequently write my brothers, I miss hearing them and seeing their faces.

I miss Raphael's constant brashness, oddly enough. I miss the good-hearted nature he hid underneath all of that toughness. I miss Michelangelo, his cheerful expressions and his constant need to be noticed. Always the baby. I miss Donatello, constantly on the alert and ready with a new idea and a helpful word.

My family has always been my anchor, and as I sit and write, I find myself wishing I was home.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, when the times here and there won't be too odd, I will find a way to get into contact with them.

I want to go home and see my brothers again.

And I think I will do just that.

-Leonardo-

-To Be Continued-