All TMNT characters copyright Mirage Studios.

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A squatty four foot rodent in a gi pranced slowly through a large concrete room decorated with street signs and replicas of Chinese brush paintings. He slid forward on a large circular rug, making a crane position. A liver spotted green shape with a blue bandanna mimicked his motions, though in a clumsier fashion.

The rat moved into a square horse and stopped. His thoughts departed from Tai Chi. I wish I could find a woman. He sighed. But could any woman love me like this? I'm nothing but a giant sewer rat. He stared at the floor. I want my old life back. The image of a slender, black haired woman with a narrow, delicate face flooded his mind. He remembered the way her clothing accentuated her figure, the way it swirled about her as she moved. He remembered their pleasant chats at the dojo, their brief encounters during tea ceremonies. Chohun. How I miss you. You've probably forgotten me by now. You're probably a grandmother, with a husband. He wished he could go back and be less of a coward. He wished he could have asked her on a date, done something to tell her how much he admired her, how much he wanted to be with her. He began daydreaming about her. He imagined himself walking with her among the cherry trees, telling her how much he loved her. Cho and Yamato, forever. Heavy sigh.

"My leg is cramping," the six foot tall turtle whined.

"Quiet," said the rat. "You are building leg muscles." His mind went back to Tai Chi. He snaked his arms around in graceful motions, moving to a cat stance. He stepped to a forty-five, hooking his arms around in mindless motions. He danced sideways and bowed, finishing the kata. He stretched, then stood there, staring at the bricks in the practice room wall. Would she love me as I am right now Sigh. Probably not. Her husband would probably try to kill me. She probably married Li Hong. He imagined himself fighting Li for Cho's hand, but quashed the thought when he considered that she probably loved...whoever she married, anyway. Sigh.

"Master Splinter?"

The rat shook his head and blinked. "Yes, Leonardo my son."

"Is something wrong?"

"Oh? What makes you say that?"

"You were staring at the wall."

"Oh, well, I was just...meditating."

The turtle shrugged. "It's about dinner time. I'll ask Mike to get us a pizza."

Splinter frowned. "My son, pizza is fat people's food. No pizza today."

Leonardo's jaw dropped. "You're kidding."

Splinter shook his head. "I've let this slide far too often. You have become accustomed to an American's diet. You eat cheeseburgers and greasy pizzas every day. You are gaining weight. No pizza today."

"Wow," the turtle stammered. "Well, okay. No pizza. So...what is for dinner, then?"

"We are having rice." He marched through an archway, going down a brick tunnel into a small room. The walls were lined with plywood and particle board cabinets taken from construction sites. There was a junky old sink, a refurbished microwave, an ugly fridge, and a battered looking stove. The rat went into a cabinet, taking out a bag of brown rice.

He started cooking the rice, becoming lost in thought as he watched it boil. I want to be Hamato Yoshi again. He started humming the tune to George Michael's Whisper, but stopped because it depressed him. What would it be like to be human? Oh, to show my face in public again. To date again. He went into a daydream about it. He tasted the rice. It was now the consistency of oatmeal. He shut off the burner and tossed in vegetables and fish, mixing it with generous quantities of soy sauce.

He picked up the pot and carried it into a small passageway to one side of the kitchen, turning a corner. He came out into another room, only slightly larger than the kitchen, containing a rickety old table, hotel chairs, and a series of scrolls from Chinese restaurants covering the walls. The chairs were empty. He set the pot of rice on a trivet in the middle of the table, staring at the chair across from him. A delicate face with artfully curving eyes smiled back at him. He grinned at her, wishing she were real. He sighed. Just an empty chair. He got out some plates and chopsticks, setting them at places around the table, along with some water.

"Dinner!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. He caughed, patting his chest. Old vocal cords, old rat.

Four humanoid reptiles filed into the room through a door on the east side of the room, seating themselves in chairs around the table. They stared at the repast with looks of distaste. The one with the gray spots put on a fake smile. "Looks delicious, sensei."

Splinter smiled, saying nothing. He seated himself at the head of the table. There was a pause, then the food was distributed. The green creatures consumed their food quickly, but the rat put the chopsticks to his mouth with slow, lazy bites, imagining a sixth seat at the table, at the opposite end. A seat containing a Japanese girl dressed in a kimono.

The four reptiles got up and left the rat to eat by himself. Splinter sighed. He scraped his meal into the pot and put it in the refrigerator.

He normally meditated every night, but he didn't feel like it.

He went down a tunnel to a small, barren brick room, staring at the beat-up mattress that served as his bed. He flopped down on it, laying on his stomach, staring at the wall. His thoughts were gloomy. He rolled over on his side, staring at a tall wooden crate, contemplating his future. I will die a lonely old...rat, my only children will be these turtles. I will not have a wife. There are no women out there for me, no rat women, no human women that want serious relationships with rats. I will always be an old bachelor...rat. His gaze lingered over a rusty metal pipe.

He closed his eyes. After hours of worrying, sleep finally found him.

It seemed like the temperature had dropped during his sleep. He tossed in his bed, pulling his blankets tight around himself.

The paw that pulled the blanket up to his chin felt smooth. Very, very smooth. He stared at it. The skin was tan. Bare. He turned it over. No hair. He stared at it, eyes travelling down his wrist, his arm. Nothing but bare skin. He swallowed. He reached up, rubbing his eyes, and noticed there was no fuzz there, either. He brought both paws up to his face, feeling around the surface. No muzzle. There was a nose there. A small human nose. His ears were on the sides of his head. The only fuzz on his face was stubble. He sat up and threw the blanket aside. His legs were bare. He felt all around them, and couldn't even find a tail.

He jumped up, letting out a joyful shout. He skipped out of his room, happily dancing into the cramped bathroom across the hall. He flipped on a light switch, staring into a grimy mirror over a sink. A familiar, but wrinkled face stared back at him. He grinned. You handsome devil, you. Good to see you again He leaned forward and kissed his image.

"Hey! Who are you? How'd you get in here?"

Splinter jerked away from the mirror, standing up straight. He turned and saw a yellow-green turtle in an orange mask staring at him.

"Hey, son," he smiled. "I've got some terrific news!"

The turtle's mouth fell wide open. "Sensei?"

Splinter grinned wider, nodding his head vigorously. "Michelangelo! I'm human again! Isn't this great?"

Mike's eyes rolled back in his head. He tottered on his feet and fell backwards in a dead faint.

Splinter laughed. He knelt beside the green body, smiling at it.

"Mikey?"

Splinter turned and saw Leonardo standing there. The eyes inside the blue bandanna became wider as it looked at him. "Who are you? What did you do with Mikey?"

"He's okay, son. Go fetch the smelling salts."

"Splinter?" Leonardo froze. "Splinter, is that you?"

"Yes, Leonardo. Now go get the smelling salts."

Leonardo left the room, coming back with two other turtles.

"Is it true?" said one of them.

"Children!" said Splinter. "Don't be alarmed! It's me!"

"That's his voice, all right."

"Holy crap!"

"No way! This can't be happening!"

"How in the world...?"

A turtle with a purple bandanna and whitish spots crept up to him. He slowly reached out, poking his deformed fingers into Splinter's human cheeks. The four fingered paw reached around Splinter's human head, brushing through a semi-balding head of black hair.

"I don't understand, master" said the turtle. "How did this happen?"

Splinter shrugged. "I do not know, Donatello. I went to sleep, and I woke up like this. It's...a miracle. I don't care how it happened. I'm just glad it did. Salt?"

Donatello handed him a bottle. Splinter waved it in front of the unconscious beak, and the turtle stirred. Everyone just froze there, staring at him.

Splinter cleared his throat. "I want everyone to call me Hamato from now on. That is my human name, and I wish to be called by it."

He saw four heads making zombie-like nods.

"As you wish, Master...Hamato."

"Hamato," Donatello agreed.

"Hamato."

Hamato nodded. "Bring out the money. I'm going shopping."

He went outside, in broad daylight. He blended with the strangers in the street. He walked among them, and nobody noticed anything odd. He hit every department store. Every shopping mall. Target. Macy's. Dillards. Sears. Harold Pener. He bought clothes. Nice clothes. Shirts. Pants. Suits. He used up almost every penny he had, coming back to the sewer with his arms full of boxes and bags. He put on a pair of brand new jeans, and a wrinkle free polyfiber shirt with a dragon on it, seating himself on a couch in a living room-like area.

An olive green turtle in a red bandanna sat down next to him. "Hey, nice duds, Master Sp-, Master Hamato." It rubbed its bald head.

"Thanks, Raphael." Now what. Hamato stared at the television set. "I'm human. Now what."

Raphael shrugged.

Hamato clicked the knob on the box, switching it on.

There was a news report about police officers catching a burglar at a bank. The idiot apparently had sent his gun through the teller tube. A commercial came on.

"When you meet that special someone, your whole world changes," said a smiling man in a tuxedo.

People came on the screen with their testimonials. About how they found love, how they found that special guy or girl that was just perfect for them.'

"Log on to today for your free trial. The love of your life is waiting!"

Hamato tilted his head, staring at Raphael. "Son, can you do something for me on the computer?"

Raphael lifted an eye ridge. "Com...puter?"

Hamato nodded.

"Sure, Master, Hamato."

He was led through the practice room and down a round tunnel to a square chamber filled with electronic equipment and parts. There was a row of computers on a table against one wall, humming as a screen saver flashed Chinese characters across their monitors. A couple folding chairs had been placed in front of them. A device attached to a pipe on the wall provided electrical power to the equipment. He'd heard that it was hydrogen power, but he couldn't fathom how it worked. Neither could he understand how the internet could be accessed without anyone paying for a service, but Donatello had told him he'd developed a special satellite for that purpose.

Donatello was bent over a table covered with a blue ESD mat, soldering capacitors onto a motherboard. He had a wristband on, a cord trailing down to a black disk on the mat. Raphael tapped him on the shell. "Hey, Don. Master, Hamato wants to use the computer."

Donatello put down the soldering iron. "He what?"

Raphael leaned over the other turtle's shell, whispering into the side of his head.

"Oh!"

Hamato could see the other one grinning. He was beginning to feel embarrassed.

Donatello put down the board, walking over to the computers. He gestured to a chair. "Sit down, Master."

Hamato nodded and did so.

Donatello moved the mouse, bringing up the desktop. "So what do you want to do?"

Hamato leaned close to the turtle, whispering, "I want to go to want to log on to he hissed a bit louder.

"Oh! Okay." Raphael went to the website, clicking around. "It wants a credit card."

"Son, what did you do with that one April gave to us?"

"The one she got in your name?...I...I don't know. That wasn't exactly legal, anyway."

Hamato sighed.

"Why don't you just date April?"

Hamato shook his head. "She's dating someone at the television studio. She told me about it a few days ago."

"Oh." Donatello paused. "She said she could let us use her card, if we warned her first."

"Well do that, then."

Donatello grabbed a cel phone from a box of tools, dialing the number. He got the all-clear from her, and he took the card out of a desk drawer, typing it on the screen, along with other personal information. They entered another page of forms. "It's asking for a personality profile." He stood up. "Maybe you should type this in."

With a shrug, Hamato moved into the seat, staring at the screen. He began henpecking at the keyboard. Nothing appeared on the screen. He frowned. "Keyboard is broken."

Donatello sighed. "It's not broken. You just need to click the box first. Here." He moved the mouse, clicking a spot on the screen.

Hamato began poking the buttons again. The site timed out. He grunted with disgust. "Bad website."

Donatello let out another sigh. "Here. Let me do it." He hit refresh, then started over. "What do you want to say about yourself?"

"Hmm..." Hamato rubbed his chin, thinking about the types of things often said in singles ads in the classifieds. "Ninja sensei...seeking...woman."

"Um, okay." Donatello typed it in.

"Japanese or Asian woman."

"All right." The turtle changed the message.

"With long and beautiful black hair."

"Master, I think a lot of Asian women have long, beautiful black hair."

"Fine. Should I mention that I was once a rat?"

"Um, I don't think so."

"Uh...I love martial arts, Asian philosophy, tea ceremonies...I might like long walks on the beach...sky diving..."

"Sounds okay, I guess."

"I'm looking for a woman who can do Five Swords and has perfect balance."

"Sensei, I think it's a good idea if you lower your expectations a little bit."

"You are right. I think I could love a woman who could even do Short Form One."

"You could teach her Short Form One," Donatello suggested.

"That is true." He went silent.

"Let's see..." Donatello clicked several buttons and dialog boxes, typing something.

"What are you doing?"

"It's just asking you some personal questions."

"Like what?"

"Master, we're going to be at this all day if we're not careful. Look, I know you pretty well, so could you just let me do this for you?"

"Okay, but you had better not..." He stopped himself.

"What?"

"Nothing. I have been lonely for a long time. I trust you, Donatello. Go ahead."

Donatello typed some more things in and clicked a button. A screen full of singles ads popped up. "Okay! Here we are, Master!"

Hamato stood up, staring at the monitor. He looked at the American faces with mixed feelings. Some of them were very fat. Some of them were like sylphs. Some were smokers, or at least a hundred years old. "Scroll down."

They came to an ad showing a middle aged female face framed with black hair. The face was slightly plump, but Hamato didn't mind. He pointed to it. "That one."

Donatello opened the ad. The girl was Korean. She lived a few miles away, and she liked to garden. "Korean," he muttered. I don't speak Korean. He paused a minute, thinking about it. We might not share the same language, but maybe that won't matter. "She will do fine. How do I meet her?"

Donatello clicked a message link. "What do you want to say to her?"

Hamato paused. "Hey...baby. Would you like to go on a date?"

Donatello frowned. "How about, My name is Hamato and I think we have a lot in common. Could you please give me your contact information so we can go out sometime?'"

"That is good. Type that."

Donatello entered it in.

"Did she get the message?"

"It takes awhile. It's e-mail."

"Oh. When should I expect a response?"

"I...don't know."

Hamato frowned. "Well, I will go to the park and do Tai Chi. Tell me when she mails me."

"Okay, Master."

Hamato took it and went up the ladder and down a street to a small park with a wide, open field. He did his Tai Chi exercises. Butterflies fluttered around him. Kids ran past him with kites. Some rolled down the walkway on skateboards or bicycles. A family was playing frisbee some feet behind him, their yellow lab running back and forth between them. They had a little girl with a mop of brown hair. She came scampering over to Hamato, then stood there with a bashful expression, her hands folded behind her back, watching him as he practiced. After watching him, wide eyed, for several seconds, she said, "Hey, mister! Whatcha doin'?"

"It's Tai Chi, little one," he smiled.

"Oh." She wiggled her foot nervously. "Do you break boards and stuff?"

Hamato chuckled. "Yes, I can. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

She nodded. The girl's mother called her, and she ran away from him. She spoke with her mother for a few minutes, pointing his way.

With a grin, Hamato moved into a crane position, his hands curved into knife hands. The child's mother chuckled, pointed at him, and spoke to her daughter some more.

A figure in a trenchcoat walked up to him. "Master, she just e-mailed you."

"Good!" He followed the figure back to the lair.

They returned to the computer. Donatello showed Hamato the screen.

Hello! It said. I am Siew. I just received your massage! I am off work for few day, so please I welcome your massages and phone calls. Here is contact information...

"She wants to be massaged," Donatello joked.

Hamato grinned.

Donatello handed him the phone. "Here."

Hamato dialed the number on the screen. "Hello?"

"Hi..?"

Hamato found the voice lovely. "Hello, Siew," Hamato stammered. "This, this is Hamato."

"Oh! Hello! I also saw your webpage on dating site! Wow. You are karate master?"

"Yes. I...so, you are free now?"

"Yes. You are not busy as well?"

"Agreeably."

"Okay. Well, should I come to your house, then?"

"My...house?"

Donatello shook his head violently.

"I...would like to go to yours," he said with a grin.

"Okay, then. Will you be coming over now?"

Hamato nodded. "Yes."

"Okay. I will see you!"

"Bye."

They hung up.

He looked at Donatello. "I said I would like to see her now."

"Okay, Master."

"Should we take...Turtlemobile?"

"Um..." Donatello paused. "Maybe a taxi would be better."

"Okay." He stared at a workstation shelf. "Should I...dress up?"

"Well...maybe. Maybe black slacks and a white shirt or something."

"Tie?"

"Well, I don't know. Maybe."

"Do you know how to tie tie?"

"Uh...yeah. I think so."

"Okay, then." Hamato went to his room, dressing in his new slacks and a dress shirt. He grabbed a suit coat and a handful of ties, walking back to Donatello's room. He showed him the suit coat. "Should I wear this?"

"I think that might be overkill."

Hamato set the coat down, putting a gaudy blue and white tie around his neck. "Now tie, please."

"How about something less crazy looking?"

Hamato had brought in a pile of tacky, unstylish ties. Donatello dug through them, taking out a black one. "This one."

Hamato placed it around his neck. "Now tie."

Donatello tried, but his fingers were a bit too round and misshapen to tie it properly. They fumbled with the thing several times before they got it on halfway right.

Hamato took a deep breath. "I am nervous."

"That's no surprise," Donatello chuckled. "This is what, your first date?"

Hamato frowned and nodded. "Yes. First date."

Donatello wrote down the address. "There's where she lives. I think the taxi guy will figure it out."

"Thanks." He called a cab, then took a communicator and went out of the room, heading to the ladder. He couldn't help but notice four green shapes staring at him. He went out and waited for the cab.

The driver took him to a small farm on the outskirts of town. They pulled up in front of a dilapidated white house with a sagging metal fence around it. He paid the fee and got out, his stomach filling with butterflies. He opened the gate and heard a low growl. He turned and saw a fat, shaggy dog approach him. He offered his hand. The dog sniffed, then licked it. He petted it on the head.

He marched forward, up a creaky staircase with flaking paint. He opened a ragged screen door, knocking on the door behind it. No answer. He rang the doorbell.

Slowly, the door came open. He saw a short, plump woman in a baggy shirt and rough looking jeans standing inside. She squinted at him and laughed. "You are Hamato?"

Hamato nodded. "You are Siew?"

She nodded. With a giggle, she said, "Wow! You look very handsome!"

He smiled. "Thank you. You also look...nice." She had crow's feet around the eyes, and bags and wrinkles, but he was a bit old himself.

They bowed and shook hands.

"Nice to meet!"

"Yes."

"Come inside. I will make you drink."

The house wasn't that much to look at. The walls were painted well, and pictures hung on the walls, but it was nothing terribly fancy. He shrugged. Anything is nicer than a sewer.

He was led into a small dining room with a round wooden table and shiny wood chairs. It had thick green shag carpeting. A pair of Chinese brush paintings hung on the wall.

The girl gestured to a chair. "Wait here. I will get you some lemonaide." He walked through a doorway on the side of the room.

He sat down, staring at the paintings. His eyes moved to a flower box next to a window.

Siew returned to the table with two glasses and a pitcher filled with yellow liquid. She poured the drinks and sat down.

"So," she said, taking a sip of her drink. "How is it like to be a karate master?"

Hamato shrugged. "It is okay. But it gets lonely sometimes." He drank a few swigs of his lemonaide. "I only have my sons to keep me company."

"Sons?" she smiled. "So you have had children?"

"Well, it's not quite that simple."

She furrowed her brow. "Then explain it to me. I am listening."

Hamato took a deep breath. "My children are giant talking turtles."

Siew broke into hysterical laughter.

Hamato sighed, slumping his shoulders.

"I am sorry," she said. "It is...just hard to believe in giant turtle." She grinned.

Hamato smiled. "Maybe I could show you them sometime."

"I'd like that."

"This part might also be funny to you. I used to be a giant rat. I am human now, but I still live in a sewer."

She giggled. "A rat? Really?" She shook her head. "You are very funny! You come up with wild story!"

He sighed. "Well, anyways. I taught my turtle children to do karate and fight criminals."

She grinned. "Okay."

"How about you?"

"Me?" said Siew. "I am retirement. I used to work...in factory. It is so difficulty. Work is very hard. So then I retirement. Now I gardens a lot. Want to see garden?"

Hamato nodded. She led him out a door in the back of the house, to a wide garden full of sunflowers and pansies and roses and all manner of plants. She showed him a wild looking pumpkin plant, a patch of snapdragons and another section containing tomato plants.

"Wow," said Hamato. "This is nice."

"Thank you. One day I wish to plant a cherry tree, here."

"That would be nice."

"Would you like to help me garden?"

Hamato shrugged. "Sure!"

They spent the next few hours digging, planting plants, watering, and talking with one another. They talked about their home countries, their experiences, and just about everything else. It became dark. They went inside.

"It is dark now," said Hamato. "My sons will be more comfortable going outside. I would like to invite them over here to show you I am not lying. Is that okay?"

She nodded. "That would be wonderful."

Hamato called Donatello with his communicator.

"Master? Would you like to be picked up now?"

"No, son. I would like you to come over here."

"Come...What?"

"My son, she does not believe my story, and I wish you to come over here. I trust Siew. She does not mean us harm."

Siew smiled.

"Well, okay," Donatello said with a reluctant tone of voice. He hung up.

A half hour later, there were knocks on the door. Siew opened the door. She saw four green bodies in the doorway. She froze, then started to laugh.

"What?" said Michelangelo.

"You...you are really turtle! And you are tall! Wow!" She gestured to her living room. "Come in and sit down! I will make dinner!"

Michelangelo shrugged and went in, plopping down on a threadbare looking green couch. The others followed his lead. Leonardo sat next to him. Donatello sat on a recliner, and Raphael seated himself in an armchair across from him. There was an awkward silence as they took in their surroundings and stared at the woman.

Hamato gestured to them. "There they are, Siew. My children."

"Wow. You were telling truth! I am so sorry I did not believe you. So so sorry."

"It is okay."

"So...you also live in sewer?"

Hamato nodded.

"That is so so bad. I am sorry for you."

"It is okay. It is my home. It is comfortable and clean. Would you like me to help you cook?"

Siew nodded. "Do you know how to cook?"

"Yes. I cook very often."

She led him into a cozy little room with fine wooden cabinets and shelves, a brand name refrigerator, an electric stove and a microwave. Cooking tools and implements were scattered around the counter space. It was rather a mess.

Siew put on a pot of rice, then dug in the refrigerator, taking out fish and vegetables. The two of them made sushi, egg rolls, and began working on a mixture of beef and broccoli.

Hamato cut up the broccoli, then put down the knife. "Siew. I want to ask you for something."

"What is it?"

"Siew, I know we have just met, but I am a very lonely man. I have been hiding in a sewer for the last...too long."

Siew's eyebrows raised. In a flustered tone of voice, she said, "I am not that kind of woman!"

Hamato sighed. "I am sorry. That is not what I meant. Siew. Let me kiss you. I just want to kiss, okay?"

"Oh!" She furrowed her brow, then nodded. "I...okay." She stepped near to him, moving her face close to his.

Hamato touched his nose against her nose, pressing his lips against hers. Their lips parted.

He felt someone shaking him. "Hey. Master. Master! Wake up!"

Hamato's eyes slowly crept open. He looked up and saw a green face. He let out a startled shout. "Ungh!" He shook violently.

"Master, it's already noon. Are we going to practice today?"

Hamato scowled at him. "Where's Siew?"

He saw a look of bafflement on the reptilian face. "Siew? Who's that?"

"You know. Siew. You went to her house last night."

The turtle laughed. "Master, you've been dreaming. Let's go practice."

Hamato lifted up his hand, staring at it. It was covered in brown fuzz. Dammit. It was all a dream. He glared at the turtle. "Go into the other room and do five hundred push-ups."

The turtle sighed. "Oh c'mon!"

"Silence! Pushups increase your upper body strength! Five hundred!"

With a frustrated look, the turtle stood up and walked out of the bedroom.

Hamtaro frowned, sitting up. He threw his blankets aside. A tail again grew from his backside. His gi was faded and threadbare. He sighed. Fate is so cruel.

He grabbed an extension cord, fashioning into a noose. He threw the noose over a pipe hanging from the ceiling, tying the other end behind an oversized elbow joint on a pipe near the floor. He set the wooden crate under the noose and climbed up on it, sticking his head through the loop. He tightened up the slack and jumped off the crate.

"Master! No!"

Hamato saw Leonardo run into the room. The turtle grabbed him, pulling the noose off.

"Master! Don't do this! I...I care about you! You're like a father to me!"

Hamato sighed, flopping over the reptile's arms. He heard sniffing.

"Master. I...I love you, okay?" Hamato could hear a choking sob creeping into Leonardo's voice. "C'mon, Master Splinter. We all love you."

The rat just lay there.

"Master, if, if you need anything, we'll be there for you, okay? You don't have to do this. We need you."

Splinter frowned. He climbed out of Leonardo's arms, looking into his eyes. He saw the worried expression. He understood the love. That was selfish of me. He took a deep breath. "My son, you are many things to me. You are caring, compassionate, and I will always think of you as my son..." He sighed. "But you cannot be everything to me. I am still lonely."

Leonardo opened his mouth like he were about to say something.

"My son, there are some things that you cannot give." He looked away. "You can only give me a son's love."

Leonardo stared at him.

"I want something more."

A disgusted look appeared on Leonardo's face.

"I want to have children. Real children. Children that are my own."

"Oh." Leonardo no longer looked confused. He looked at the floor. "I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do about that, but..." He rubbed his head.

"I wish to meditate."

Leonardo nodded. "Maybe that will make you feel better."

"Come with me."

"All right."

They went out and down the hallway to the training room. He and Leonardo sat down on the floor, folding their legs in the lotus position. They sat there for a long time in silent meditation, breathing quietly in slow, regulated breaths.

The rat let out a long, moaning croak. "Ooohooohoooooooo..."

Leonardo's eye ridge raised, but he kept his eyes shut, breathing in and out slowly.

"Bum, babum, babum, babumbabum...bum, babum, babum, babumbabum..."

The turtle chuckled.

More croaking noises came out of Splinter's mouth. It almost sounded like he was talking, but it seemed to have a tune. "Each day through my window, I watch her as she passes by..."

Leonardo grinned, but kept focused on his breathing.

"I say to myself, you are such a lucky guy...to have a girl like her. It's truly a dream come true. Out of all of the fellahs in the world, she belonged to me..."

Leonardo grinned and started singing along.

"But it was just my imagination, running away with me..."

Splinter sighed. It was just my imagination...running away.

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This song is copyright various artists (Rolling Stones, the Temptations, et al.)