Chapter Text
The glass door emblazoned with the words ‘Wiltson’s Pet Emporium’ swung open with a jingle, and out stepped a man with three young children, obviously his sons by the similarities. He was a man of average height but handsome and kind features, well built with a thick head of black hair and gentle grey eyes, despite his obvious asian ethnicity. He held a large glass bowl easily in one hand and chuckled, reaching in to stroke a small but solid green shell. The tiny turtle within watched him, withdrawing slightly into itself, but still peeking out curiously at him.
“Dad! Let me hold him! Let me hold him!” Hamato Yoshi’s oldest child, only seven years old, begged, pulling on his sleeve hopefully as they walked down the busy sidewalk, reddish-brown eyes pleading. The most slender of the brothers, his elegant look was only intensified by his smooth black hair pulled back into a long, neat ponytail. Yoshi sometimes marveled at how much his son resembled his late, beloved Tang Shen sometimes.
“Patience, Donatello. I know it’s exciting to get a new pet, but you must wait to play with our newest family member until we get home.” he chuckled, amused as he shifted the bowl and reached down with a free hand to take the chubby hand of his youngest.
Wide blue-grey eyes that sparkled much more brightly then his own ever could were set in freckled and chubby cheeks. The toddler stared up at the glass bowl that their father was carrying with wide, disbelieving eyes, before breaking out in a wide grin. “Urdle! Urdle!” the three year old chanted in excitement, holding his father’s free hand tightly and pointing with the other.
“Yes, it is a turtle. Very good, Michelangelo.” Yoshi smiled down at him, and the small boy beamed.
“He’s going to love me the most.” Donatello proclaimed confidently as he walked in front of them. “I have already read eight books on how to properly take care of a turtle! I’m going to make sure he’s got the best home ever!”
“Ima play wif the ‘urdle the mostest!” Michelangelo argued happily. “So he’ll luff me the mostest!”
“I dunno, I think he smells funny.” his middle child scoffed, also leaning in to stare at their new pet and making faces into the glass, sticking out his tongue and crossing his eyes. Despite being only five, he was already tall for his age, solid, and could peek in if he stood on his toes and Yoshi lowered the bowl a little.
“You smell funny, Raph.” Donnie stuck out his tongue at him.
“Now children, no arguing.” Yoshi said firmly, knowing that this could very quickly devolve into a shoving match if not nipped in the bud.
“Sorry, Dad.” all three chorused at once automatically.
Up on Yoshi’s shoulder sat a sleek brown rat, riding there easily as they walked. The rodent preened its nose, then glanced down curiously at the small green shell in the bowl, barely visible from its perch.
“Look! Splinter wants to see the turtle too, Dad.” Donnie pointed out eagerly, looking up at their family pet.
Yoshi fondly glanced at his pet rat, who had been his wife’s last gift to him before her unexpected passing. Grey was already showing around the whiskers, and he quietly mourned the fact that the dear rat was already drawing close to the end of his natural lifespan. “Well, he should be curious. It’s not everyday we get new family.”
“So, what’d are we gonna name it?” Raphael wondered, his hazel eyes darting up curiously.
“‘Urdle!” Mikey suggested eagerly.
“We are not naming the turtle ‘Turtle’.” Raph scoffed.
Mikey thought for a moment, then offered, “Lassie!”
“That’s a dog’s name. Plus, he’s a boy turtle, Mikey.” Donnie rolled his eyes. “You can’t name a boy ‘Lassie’.”
“Wait. Wasn’t the dog a boy?” Raph looked confused for a second.
“No, she was a girl dog! Lassie literally means ‘girl’!” Donnie protested.
Yoshi thought about it. “Well, we already have Splinter.” He glanced at his rat. “How about we give him a name like his? Something like... Thorn?”
All three of his sons gave him a suspicious stare with narrowed eyes.
“Isn’t that the name of one of the dudes on those daytime shows you watch?” Raph asked skeptically.
Yoshi coughed.
“You named us after Italian artists.” Donnie mentioned. “Why don’t we name him after one too?”
“Hm. Very well.” Yoshi nodded, thinking. “How about Leonardo, then? After Leonardo De’Vinci?”
“Leonardo.” Donatello sounded it out carefully. “Leo.” He pondered this, then nodded. “I like it.”
“E-O!” Mikey danced happily. “E-O!”
“Yeah, whatever.” Raph shrugged, resuming making faces at the glass bowl and its tiny inhabitant. “Still would’ve rather had a dog.”
They came up to a crosswalk and stopped, waiting for the light to change.
Yoshi frowned as he heard tires squealing down the road. Somebody was obviously driving far too fast, and he didn’t like the sound of that at all. Before he could say anything or usher his three sons further back, Mikey gave a squeal of excitement as he saw a stray dog across the road. “Lookit Waffie! A goggie for you!”
And before Yoshi could stop him, Mikey broke free of his grasp and started running across the crosswalk towards the dog.
“MICHELANGELO!” Yoshi’s eyes were wide in fear as he lunged for his youngest son just as a white van came racing down the street towards them.
There was the screech of tires, a loud thud, the screams of children, and the smash of a glass bowl on the concrete.
The small green turtle lay flipped upside down on his shell on the concrete street near the curb nearby, legs flailing in the air as he rocked helplessly, a small flow of water from a recent rain parting around him on it course towards a nearby drain. The aged brown rat had also been flung through the air, hitting the ground hard and rolling a few times, and was now laying dazed next to the turtle and shards of glass. It started to shakily push itself up to its feet, but then a heavy glowing green metal canister flew out of the back of the white van’s open door, bounced across the street a few times, and bowled into the rat, causing it to squeak in alarm as the cracked and heavy canister quickly caught the turtle as well, sweeping both of them down the broken grate of the sewer drain. The cracked metal canister leaked a trail of glowing green ooze as they tumbled down to disappear into the darkness below.
And back up on the surface, the cries of three children begging their father to wake up could faintly be heard.