Cold Fire Rising

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

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Cracking his neck again, Leonardo held his katana straight and moved his right foot further back, as the simulation of Karai readied herself for another attack. He had programmed her to be easier, more a training exercise than anything else. He imagined that when they finally got back to a restored Earth, six months before the black hole incident, that she could be cured of her mutation, that she could even defect from Shredder and their family could be whole. Splinter could have his daughter. Everything would be okay.

In his heart, he knew how illogical that was. But there was hope. He needed as much hope as the cold universe could give him.

He nodded once and Karai lunged, her sword in a direct line aiming for his chest. He caught it with his own pushed it away, swiping around. The satisfying clang of metal settled him. He grit his teeth, pushing his mind still and calm, a river in autumn, a quiet river gently rippling from a quiet breeze. He maintained his grace as he moved, spinning on his toes, dancing against Karai's force. After some time, he felt sweat break out on his brow. He needed to keep going. He needed to be perfect. He couldn't fail. Failure could mean death for his family.

He failed to see his baby brother fighting a dangerous alien alone.

Clang.

They hadn't known.

That was no excuse.

He should have sensed it. He should have been concentrating harder.

Clang.

He should have been paying attention to his peripheral vision. Those reptile men had been powerful but he had been defeating them. He'd had Raphael and Donatello in his sights, in the corners of his eyes. He should have been aware of Michelangelo leaping above the fray, he should have realized that Mikey might try to take on one opponent alone.

He should have watched him. He should have stopped him. He should have protected him.

Clang.

He was the Leader. He was supposed to guide his team, to head his clan when Sensei wasn't there. What would Master Splinter be saying if he were there? As sensei. As father.

Scrape.

Karai caught at his plastron with the tip of her katana, dragging down, leaving a mark. Another quick slash, and there was a small X across his right abdominal scutes. Leonardo growled and snapped for the simulation to end.

Karai disappeared. So did the rooftop, the moon, the cityscape, the sky. Leonardo exhaled roughly. She had caught him off-guard. That should not happen. He rubbed at the X; it wasn't bleeding, it was a scratch. It should not be there. Maybe he could buff it out. Casey probably had wax or resin in his backpack, or the infirmary did. No way he wanted any reminder of this failure, in this simulated battle exercise. Not when-

He sighed and it came out as a grunt. Grabbing a towel, he patted at his skin and walked out of the simulation room. No mistakes. No failures. But it had been hours. He would try again tomorrow. He could meditate on it later. In the showers, Leo lingered, running the simulation over and over in his head. He would focus more, pay more attention, so next time he wouldn't be hit. It was vital.

It was quiet. He went to his room, decorated in Japanese mats and scrolls, sticks of incense and candles. Kneeling on a tatami mat, he meditated, then concentrated on soothing the sore muscles and aches all over his body. Splinter had tried to teach them all; only Leo had the discipline. However, he had started to suspect that Mikey would have had enough raw talent to pick it up after a few tries. His brother was like that – he could watch a kata once or twice and perform it fluidly. It was why he was such an amazing artist, why his room was littered with sketches, colored pencils, slender paintbrushes. April would buy him art kits in exchange for Mikey cooking her favorite meals. Sometimes he took charcoal and drew on the walls outside the lair, later wiping them clean and starting over. The drawings were always different and depended on his moods. When Leo and Raph had one of their infamous fights, Michelangelo would disappear for an hour, and they would find a new mural of a landscape or animals, or even kanji. Every now and then, a quote from Master Splinter would be carefully drawn in huge letters on the wall across from the door to the lair.