Growing up, Leonardo was probably the only one of his brothers that could stop and notice Splinter's eye for beauty. As kids, all they cared about was rough housing, video games, T.V...Splinter was their dad. The serious Japanese rat who seemed to rather train, meditate, and not have as much fun with the boys as they'd like. But there was something about their father that they probably wouldn't fully understand until they're older. Even then, that was probably a stretch.

Leonardo remembered how he'd always be the first to rise out of his brothers and walk through the subway that was their home until someone else woke up. That was when he first noticed them: lilies.

The mutant found it odd how, every morning, there would be a vase filled with the beautiful flowers on the table where they ate. It's not like flowers grew in the sewers and they probably didn't grow on buildings, either.

Leonardo understood that his father probably went out of his way to find the precious flowers that sat on their table each day. And to be honest, the others probably didn't make that kind of connection. Maybe Donnie, but he wouldn't say anything about it.

As a kid, the blue clad ninja would always ponder why his father would go the distance to have the flowers on display. And why lilies? When he had asked Splinter, the old rat merely smiled and replied with: "Because they surrounded my home back in Japan." That was all Leonardo needed to hear.

From childhood on, Leonardo couldn't remember a day where the flowers WEREN'T waiting there on the table. It added a touch of comfort and natural beauty to their concrete home that only Splinter could really bring in with his love for simplicity. It was funny how Leonardo understood that sometimes, the smaller, fragile and unnoticed things in life were more often than not the most beautiful things in the world. It made him feel guilty for not appreciating the beauty before, but he was glad he could now.

It had been nice coming into the kitchen every morning to see the beautiful, delicate flowers in bloom. Splinter had always taken great care of them. Enough food, water, light...when the flower should have died, it prospered.

In that sense, Splinter was a lily. Strong, beautiful, fragile in some ways...but in the end, he remained strong, even when the end should have come. And when it did for him, he withered with a beauty only Splinter could leave this world in. He had blossomed like the finest of pedals and withered to join the earth to fertilize the future to help nurture those to come after him.

Leonardo smiled down at Splinter's grave. It wasn't anything fancy, but it's how Splinter would have liked it. The older ninja glanced down at the grave with a content smile, appreciating the simple beauty that was his father's final resting place. He knew he should be sad...but he knew it wasn't a goodbye, but rather a "goodbye for now."

The mutant had wanted to bring Spliner lilies, but the liles were hard to find. It wasn't like the flower was common in those parts of the states, either. He had April buy him the flowers before heading to the grave when Splinter had first passed away. Leonardo set them down...but he knew he didn't have to. Not anymore, at least. The old ninja turned and headed down the hill. But before he fully left, he turned to smile at his father's resting place where white fragile pedals of lilies miraculously grew as they surrounded the rat's grave.