Here's the next chapter! Sorry it took so long. Writing the confrontation was more difficult than I initially hoped, and even after heavy editing it's still a little long. Let me know if anything doesn't make sense!

And thanks once more to Amicitia Revenant! Hopefully I can get the next chapter out a little faster for you.

Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT, for which they are probably very grateful.

Tomomi hummed thoughtfully to herself, rolling a few specks of dried leaves between her fingers to test the prepackaged blend. The tea was old, but still usable, although it was certainly nearing its expiration date.

A shout drifted in through the window behind her, and she caught herself before the muscles in her back tensed. She'd left the window open because leaving the window closed on such a nice night would have been suspicious, but maybe she should close it anyway. Her senses were on full and she kept jumping at every small sound from the street...

There was a faint squeal of metal behind her, and she was reaching for the kettle before she even heard the soft rustle of the curtain or the thud of something landing lightly on the carpet. Adrenaline surged through her as she spun, the reassuring weight of the kettle swinging smoothly through the air with a familiar momentum. It wasn't the ideal weapon, but Mistress Ozu had made certain that all her kunoichi could defend themselves with whatever came to hand and it wouldn't be the first time she'd used a tea kettle for defense...

To say she froze into place at the sight of her intruder would be inaccurate. Instead her eyes registered the situation before her brain could comprehend what it was seeing, and as a result her muscles simply refused to move.

It was... A rat. About four feet tall, with graying fur and dressed in a brown robe eerily reminiscent of the monk's robe once worn by members of the Kurama clan who had chosen to become yamabushi. The curtains were still flapping from his passage, and he'd landed in a defensive position to the side of the window and out of direct line of sight of anyone watching. She saw his nostrils flare slightly as he tested the air, and swiftly came to the only possible conclusion.

The rat master from the rumors. The nezumi who had trained the four kame the Foot Clan hated so much, who fought in the old style of the Kurama Clan and the Ancient One. The creatures the Foot Clan believed her son's search for Hamato-san would lead them to.

The curtains were already settling back into place, muffling the noise from outside and leaving the room in a tense silence as Tomomi shifted her attention back to the rat, trying to get a more thorough assessment of the creature before her surveillance decided to pay a visit to an old enemy -if they had noticed it's arrival. The rumors all stressed that the rat was a true master of ninjutsu, whose only real weaknesses were age and the turtles themselves.

Now, with the evidence of her eyes, she could easily believe it. The animal before her was definitely skilled -its carriage alone gave it away- and very, very intelligent for its species. Its eyes...

Her breath caught, and the arm holding the kettle at the ready seemed to loose its strength, dropping the steaming object to her side.

No.

It couldn't be.

And yet... she had already come to the conclusion that he was still alive, or she wouldn't be under surveillance, and her recent espionage had given her enough information to make the connection of the turtles and their nezumi master to her old clansman. The idea that the rat might be Hamato-san had seemed so impossible that she'd barely considered it. But now that she knew to look, even in such a strange form she could see hints of that lost man of her memories.

"Your eyes..." She murmured wonderingly in Japanese. The color was the same warm brown, and even the shape was hauntingly familiar; his fur and new form rounding the outline just enough to keep them from being identical to her son's. "They haven't changed, have they, Hamato-san."

The rat inhaled softly at her words. Tomomi could see the wariness in his expression even as he relaxed his defensive posture, straightening a bit more to face her before inclining his head in a graceful acknowledgement.

"You are as observant as ever, Inoue-san."

His voice was quiet, rougher and lower than she remembered, almost heavier with the weight of years. It somewhat reminded her of Watanabe-san's voice, only with a more of a growl to the edges. But the quiet words caused her to swallow before answering calmly.

"No one has called me that in thirty years, Hamato-san."

The elderly rat bowed his head slightly in apology, never taking his eyes off her as he switched to lightly accented English. "Ah. Forgive me. Mrs. Matsuda."

Her heart squeezed as she felt something inside her start to die at the beloved title, something that had been stirred for the first time in decades when he said her maiden name. For the briefest of moments she had been home again, transported back to before her exile to this island city and the weight of hiding her heritage from her child and hostile clans, back to a young woman secure in her place in the world and in love with her life in Japan. She'd lived an entire lifetime since her last farewell to Hamato-san, and now those long buried feelings were suddenly laid bare to reveal a deep, vital need for something to connect her to that long ago girl before she lost her completely.

"No, please." Despite the sudden irrational surge of desperation coursing through her, her voice remained steady and in control. "Call me Inoue-san."

Any doubts she had about the identity of her visitor were banished then, when she saw the look in his eyes. Underneath the wariness, the cautious reserve that came from too many years of hiding, she saw the same selfish desire to connect to a nearly forgotten past that she held.

"As you wish."

Tomomi nodded, guilt clawing at her for tossing aside her husband's name for nostalgia's sake, and forced herself back to more important matters.

"Did they see you?"

Hamato-san glanced back at the window, where the faint sounds of the argument below could be heard drifting through the opaque lace.

"I do not think so."

She released a breath, wanting to trust his assessment but knowing better than doing so without checking herself. She had no reason to believe he would intentionally betray her or her son, but there were too many questions raised by his presence -and current appearance- that needed answered, for both of them.

And if he'd been spotted...

She'd better check on that now.

"If you could wait a moment, senpai?" She asked politely.

Long lips curved at the schoolyard title, and she suffered a twisted form of déjà vu for a moment when the brown eyes glimmered with a familiar humor that she had seen far too often in a bright, mischievous little boy. Even in this strange form, it was so easy to see the man who'd given her her son...

No. She couldn't allow herself to think like that. Akio was Adam's father, not Yoshi, no matter where the genes had come from.

"Of course."

Tomomi risked turning away long enough to place the kettle back on the stove and turn off the burner, her neck hairs rising in paranoia as the window left her line of sight, but she kept her movements casual, graceful as she turned back to the lace curtains.

She couldn't see her observer through the lace, but she knew they couldn't see her very well either, between the extra panels she'd added to the curtain rod and the deliberate layout of the furniture. There were times she had cursed her and Akio's paranoia, but in the past few weeks it had provided her with a surprising amount of privacy even while under surveillance. Even as she went to the window now, her blood humming nervously in her ears as she passed Hamato-san's strange new form and parted the lace, she was confident that whoever was watching her could only see what she let them.

There was no one on the fire escape, no strange shadows clinging to the walls or hidden in the dumpsters. Nielsen and his cronies were still slugging it out on the sidewalk below, and she allowed herself a distasteful expression before closing the window. But as the glass jerked and shuddered down into place once more, she saw the shadow she'd pegged as her spy for the night move, leaning back from the edge of the building where they'd been watching the fight below.

Good. They probably hadn't noticed him enter, although there was no way to know for sure. All she could do was trust her instincts.

Feeling oddly vulnerable, she carefully locked the window and drew the lace curtain closed before turning, deliberately blocking any glimpse of the interior the watching ninja might catch as she turned her attention back to the giant rat in her living room.

"They're watching the fight. Please, sit." She gestured to the sofa tucked against the wall out of direct line of sight of the window.

He frowned, eyes darting suspiciously around the room before raising a thick eyebrow. "Are they listening?"

She shook her head, keeping the movement slight and imperceptible to the watcher in case they'd pulled out the binoculars again. "No." A slight smile touched her lips as she added. "They believe I am harmless."

She was rewarded with a soft snort from the long nose before the old rat nodded, and slipped silently across the room. As he settled himself on the worn upholstery, she retuned to the little kitchen, trying to shove down her conflicting emotions. A rat. Hamato-san had somehow been transformed, and even after twenty years he was still attracting trouble from the Foot Clan, placing her family and what was left of her clan in danger.

And yet, Hamato-san was part of the Kurama Clan too, however indirectly, and without him she never would have had Adam or met Akio...

Swallowing, she pulled the kettle off the burner and reached for the dried leaves she'd been fingering a few moments before. She wanted answers, and she knew he did too. Might as well be comfortable while they did so, and she knew that she at least was going to want the liquid reassurance.

"Would you like some tea?"

Their feet made almost no sound as they ran across the rooftops, moving almost in unison from shadow to shadow. There was no true darkness in New York City, but there were areas where the lights from the giant rooftop billboards and the streetlamps below struggled to penetrate, leaving only the general haze of light pollution to illuminate the strange corners under water towers and behind cooling units. Only the most skilled and patient of observers would have been able to see the slight flickering of shadows between the irregular patches of darkness that noted their passage.

Years ago, when they had first been allowed to run free outside the Lair together without Master Splinter's supervision, such perfect attention to their training would have sent a thrill of pride through Leonardo. He would have gloried in the silence, unbroken by snickers or shouts that could betray their presence; would have been grateful for the absence of the deliberate disobedience designed to irritate him.

But not anymore.

He came to a stop on the final roof of the training run, scanning the neighboring buildings for watchers before returning his attention to his brothers. The sound of heavy bodies landing skillfully behind him was barely audible, with only the slight creaking of belts and the groaning of the roof to give them away.

Leonardo felt something inside him tighten. They could tell this roof was empty just as easily as he could, and the surrounding ones as well. But there was no banter, no easy laughter or teasing or even the beginnings of a grumbling argument behind him like there would have been before. Just silence. And the professionalism his brothers were showing didn't thrill him or fill him with pride -just a vague sense of sadness and guilt.

The last set of feet hit the rooftop behind him, and Leo turned to face his brothers as they cautiously emerged from the shadows.

"Good." He stated, running his mind over the run, and coming up with very little to criticize. Or more accurately, nothing he was willing to address. "That was almost perfect. Let's see if we can repeat it on the way back."

He turned, and was about to start running when a groan filled the air.

"Come on, Leo." Michelangelo exclaimed, throwing his head back to emphasize how exasperating he thought his brother was being. "It's gorgeous tonight. Do we really have to go back now?"

Leonardo hesitated. It was a beautiful night, cloudless and with a warm wind on the roofs. The temperature was certainly far more pleasant than it had been for the past week and probably warmer than it would be for several months. In short, it was an ideal night to be a turtle. But…

"He's got a point." Raph added, leaning on the low wall edging the roof and looking out over the alley. "School's started and the holiday crazies aren't out yet. Seems a waste not to actually have some fun for a change."

Leo swallowed his automatic reply, looking between the two. It didn't used to be a significant event when his brothers wanted to goof off after a training run…

He looked over at Donatello. He really shouldn't even be considering this. But they hadn't really had a fun night out together lately, only staying out just long enough to get some training and maybe stop a few thugs before going back to the Lair. They'd finished the training he'd intended, and there didn't seem to be much fighting to do tonight. With winter on the way, this would probably be their last chance.

"Don?"

His brother looked indecisive, and Leo held his breath as Don mulled it over for a moment. He wasn't going to push this. Not when the four of them had finally started to become comfortable with each others' changed personalities, and especially not with Donatello. They were all adults now. There was no point in forcing anyone to stay out if they didn't want to.

Don shrugged. "Why not?"

Three sets of hopeful eyes turned to Leo, and he felt the tense balloon inside him deflate. The past few months had been so hard, tiptoeing around his brothers and trying to figure out whether he was doing the right thing or if he was unintentionally hurting them again…

"All right." He conceded, a small smile twitching across his face as Mikey whooped. "We're probably not going to get another night like this until next summer."

"Yes!" Mike exclaimed. "Fun time!"

Leo wasn't the only one who found Mikey's enthusiasm infectious. Donatello was smiling. Raph was still leaning against the wall, his expression neutral and his eyes hard, but he looked more relaxed than he had been for quite a while.

"So what should we do?" Mikey rocked back and forth on his heels as he thought. "Ninja Tag? Nah, we've been running for hours..."

"Do you need anything at the junkyard Don?" Leo asked practically, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at Mikey's exaggeration.

His brother shook his head. "Not that I know of. I'm still waiting on the parts Professor Perry ordered."

"There's a couple movies playing. But nothing really good... But we could get ice cream, or pizza, or Chinese..."

"What's the point in enjoying the weather if we have ta wear a disguise?" Raph interrupted, turning away from the ledge to face his brothers with crossed arms.

"It's not my fault you're so ugly."

Leo groaned, anticipating the comeback. "Mike!"

But Raphael didn't bite. The look he shot their brother would have caused paint to melt and made Michelangelo grin nervously back, but Raph said nothing, and Mikey didn't add to the taunt.

Leonardo felt his throat tighten for a moment when he realized Raph wasn't going to retaliate. He knew he shouldn't feel guilty over something so stupid. How often had he prayed, hoped for Raphael to control his temper? For Mikey to learn where the limits of his teasing should be, instead of where it actually ended? His brothers were growing up, and it had been inevitable for them to face their inner demons just as he had.

What tormented him in his dreams and these awkward moments was the simple realization that he had been the reason they faced them unprepared and alone. Still hurt by his perceived betrayal, they had tried to face the countless demons and insecurities created by their lives without reaching out to one another for help. They had won in the end, but the fight had broken something inside them, hardened them in subtle ways that would never had happened if they had asked for help or if he had returned on time.

Even more than Raphael's terrifying restraint and Donatello's almost visibly fragile psyche, it was Michelangelo's newfound maturity that haunted Leo the most. He was still the fun-loving turtle he'd always been, but there was a shadow in his blue eyes now, a hardness from too many nights watching over bleeding brothers and friends, too many ungrateful worlds saved and too many lost dreams and harsh lessons learned in too short a time. In the fallout after Don's breakdown it was his "little" brother who had taken over the majority of the driving, topside errands, and family finances, carefully keeping track of everything on the little computer Don had built him for his business.

Before the silence could set in or Mikey could offer some other inane comment, Don tossed in another suggestion.

"Why don't we see if April and Casey are busy?"

"By the time we get there it's going to be after ten." Leo warned, feeling like a traitor to his own cause. But even if it was the city that never slept, it didn't mean their friends didn't. "They might be..."

"Nah." Raph grunted. "Case said he was going out tonight."

That surprised Leo. Raph and Casey still went out together frequently, but neither went out on their own very often anymore. After watching his brother storm off repeatedly only to be later found wandering the sewers instead of up top, Leo suspected that the change wasn't just for April and Master Splinter's sakes, but that the two were secretly relieved to have someone watch their back again after Raph's long solo stint as the Nightwatcher.

"Alone?"

Raph shrugged. "He's seeing who moved into that burned building by the shop. Looks amateur, but it might be the weed smugglers the Mafia were funding."

Might as well check in with him then. Leo thought resignedly. Just in case he finds something. Casey would be the first to kill me if I suggested he needed backup, but April will fry us alive if something happens to him.

"So I take it we're going to April's?" Leo asked, reaching for his shell cell to call their father.

His brothers glanced around at one another, and Raph shrugged.

"Looks like."

Master Splinter slipped the little phone his sons had dubbed a "shell cell" back into his robes, silently grateful that his sons had not attempted to call him while he was en route to the apartment. Across from him, Inoue-san was cradling her tea in her lap, her expression thoughtful as she mulled over the story he'd told her prior to his sons' call.

The conversation had been cautious, mostly touching on the past as they tried to determine whether the other was truly who they believed them to be. He knew they could not afford to dance around the true reason for his visit much longer. There was no telling if or when the ninja watching her would decide to come closer for a better look through her obscuring curtains.

"Your sons are training tonight?"

Her voice was polite, inquiring but controlled. He'd already discovered that while her self-control was extraordinary, her voice control was exquisite. After the first few minutes he'd started to rely on his nose to tell when she was rattled or upset, as he had almost no other clues to go by.

His nose was telling him now that there was more to the question than polite inquiry, although he wasn't sure what. She'd accepted the reality of his story with surprising equanimity, and listened to his brief summary of his family's interactions and current relationship with the Foot Clan with intense, if dubious, interest. It was clear that she found his mutation and the subsequent extraordinary events easier to accept than concept of an Oroku attempting to honorably end a generations-long blood feud. Given his own experiences and doubts about Karai's character and the circumstances of this meeting, he could not blame her.

"Hai."

As Inoue-san sipped her tea, he found his gaze straying from the dignified woman across from him, studying the bevy of photographs on the low table once more. One in particular caught his attention. Amidst the birthday shots and gymnastics poses was a younger version of the man April had shown him, sitting on a bench outside Battery Park as he read a letter.

The species was wrong, the time and place impossible to compare. But the way the young man in the photograph focused on the paper reminded him quite forcibly of Donatello.

He had to know. Now. In their mutual nostalgia they had already pushed this meeting well past the point of inexcusable risk, and if it had been his sons doing so he would have condemned them to the dojo for eternity.

"This is your son?"

"Yes. Adam."

He nodded, turning back to the pictures. They were all there, a record of Adam's life in a montage of precious moments that he had never been able to do with his own sons. And now, with so many angles, so many ages and moments arrayed for comparison, he realized he didn't even need to ask the question he'd come for. All he had to do was compare the child to the man he remembered distantly as Matsuda Akio, and the young man on the bench to the almost nonexistent glimpses he remembered of his human face in a mirror.

"It was the night in the fields, wasn't it, Inoue-san?"

She dropped her gaze, hiding her face for a moment with a graceful sip of her tea, and for the first time since his entrance he didn't need his nose to know that her emotions were swinging wildly as she tried to get them back under control.

"Hai."

Splinter closed his eyes, letting the flood of thoughts and emotions wash through him without resistance. Why couldn't it have been Shen? He'd known, somehow, since the Joneses had come to him. But to hear it confirmed...

What was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to tell his sons?

And what did he say to her?

The Clan had never told him, never given him any hint of how he'd shamed Inoue-san with his impetuous actions or demanded that he redeem her honor and wed. Instead they'd championed his marriage to Shen and hidden them when he'd discovered his brother's betrayal meant the Utroms could no longer use such a recognizable figure as a Guardian, nor could he stay in Japan with the entire Foot Clan after him. They had even supported him when he'd killed Oroku Nagi in a violent rage after Saki's lecherous body double and "brother" had assaulted his wife while visiting the coastal school they'd been hiding at, an act that Saki had later told him had condemned the Kuramas to extermination...

"Why didn't you tell me?"

His voice wasn't as steady as he'd hoped. But he didn't think he could control himself right now, certainly not with the skill Inoue-san was showing. He'd never been able to. It had been his greatest failing as a ninja, Guardian, and father.

"You were destined for Shen, Hamato-san." Inoue-san kept her eyes on the teacup in her hands, and when it came her voice was soft, matter-of-fact, yet almost... apologetic. "The masters could see it, as could I. They didn't dare interfere, and decreed that you were never to know. And when you were sent here, we decided it was best if we did not meet again. I did not want to hurt Shen, and Akio..."

There was a slight hitch to her breathing at the mention of her deceased husband's name, but she finished her explanation smoothly.

"...Akio was afraid you would take Adam from him."

Splinter blinked, feeling as if the floor had been yanked from under him. It was painful to admit, but he could easily understand Matsuda-san's fear. The thought of loosing his sons in any form was enough to send him into a blind panic. But to go to such lengths to keep the knowledge of his own child from him? What had the Kurama masters seen in his future? Had they known what was going to happen to him, as the Tribunal had?

His throat clenched with old anger. He loved his sons dearly, and would not trade a single hardship-stricken moment with them for all the humanity in the world. But he still could not condone the Tribunal's utter disregard for the lives they had wantonly destroyed in their quest to destroy the Tengu Shredder, himself and his sons included.

A paranoid glance toward the window behind him was once again arrested by the table of photographs. He let his gaze linger there, trying to sort through his feelings as the facts of the matter slowly sank in. He had a son, a human son, by a woman that he'd never loved, and barely known. While she seemed to bear no ill will toward him for destroying her career and sending her into exile with a stranger on foreign shores, she had still obeyed the Kurama masters' directive not to tell him of his own son.

Until Adam...

"Why do the Foot know of Adam, Inoue-san?"

The teacup in her hands trembled, and he felt his eyes widen when the contained kunoichi suddenly bowed, her forehead nearly touching the couch cushions.

"Forgive me, Hamato-san." She murmured, despair audible in the soft words. "It is my fault. Akio had... I believed you were dead, and he just wanted to know your name. I thought..."

There was a slight hitch in her words as she caught herself, pulled herself together enough to remove the tremble in her voice and lifted her gaze to meet his once more.

"You are a parent too, Hamato-san." Black eyes stared into his, searching for empathy with her plight. "You understand."

A knot formed in Splinter's throat as he suddenly recognized the trap she'd fallen into. In a moment of weakness she had given in to her child's request, knowing the dangers but hoping that it would somehow work out for his sake. But instead of being satisfied with his name, Adam had actively searched for him and unknowingly attracted the attention of the Foot Clan, endangering them all.

He knew her pain all too well.

"I understand."

She breathed a sigh, eyes closing for a moment as she straightened, head and shoulders still bowed.

"Thank you."

He nodded, looking away to allow her to regain her composure in peace, centrally placed wedding photo catching his attention this time. April had found some information on the young woman, Jenna Allison Matsuda, nee Bentley, but not much more than he had on Adam. She was a year younger than Adam and originally from Pennsylvania, had attended the same college as her husband, spent time in India as part of the Peace Core before marrying Adam on her return four years before, and currently worked in the acquisitions department for an Indian fabric import company.

"This is his wife?"

"Yes. Jenna."

"Are they..." He paused a moment, not entirely certain what he wanted to ask about the young couple and struggling through his own conflicted and disjointed memories of his wife before finally settling on "...happy?"

Inoue-san nodded serenely, glancing with clear pride in the direction of the photograph. "Yes. She is his match."

His match. Someone had once told him the same about Shen, years before in Japan. And now the phrase was being applied to his biological son, who also had a wife; a wife that was considered to be his other half by those who loved him.

Swallowing, he hoped that this was not a sign for the future. At least Adam had no brother or sister to continue the cycle he'd inadvertently started...

No siblings, but Adam was married. And the couple was easily old enough...

He swallowed, trying to force down the sudden yearning and panic at the enormity of the situation he was facing.

"Do they have any children?"

"Jenna is due in April."

The whisper was torn, straining at the bounds of her composure, clearly fighting its way out of a choked throat to answer him. But before he could reply her head snapped up, eyes opening to bore into him with a determination born of desperation.

"Adam is your son, Hamato-san. But Akio is his father, and this is his grandchild. I cannot let you take that from him."

Only the sensation of his teacup slipping from his nerveless fingers jolted him out of the shocked disbelief that had engulfed Splinter at her abrupt change of manner, revealing the terrified mother determined to protect her modest family underneath the professional kunoichi. He snatched at the china, catching it before the liquid could spatter the carpet.

It was only then that her meaning started to sink in.

"Inou..."

"You have four sons, Hamato-san, but Akio has no other heir. I cannot let you take this child from us." She repeated firmly, eyes bright and voice trembling with intensity as she interrupted him.

"Adam believes you are dead, and has stopped searching for you. Danger follows you always Hamato-san. The Foot are hunting us because of you, and if you do not recognize him as your son there is a chance they will decide he is useless and leave us alone. But if you go to him, if you claim him..."

Inoue-san stopped abruptly, breathing deeply and shooting a fleeting, despairing glance at the curtained window. She let the silence linger for a moment before turning back to him, solemnly meeting his eyes again.

"I will not have my family slaughtered before my eyes, Hamato-san."

Splinter swallowed, closing his eyes to block out her painful gaze and tightening his grip on the china.

She was right. His very presence was a danger, and any half-formed notions he'd started to entertain of contacting his human son, of seeing the grandchild he'd never thought he'd have, needed to be forgotten now. For all their sakes. It would have to be enough to know that he was not the only one anymore, that there were other members of his adoptive clan who had survived the Foot's revenge. That his line would not end with his sons, and would be carried with his genes if not in spirit or name.

But...

The word was a whisper, defiantly echoing from the depths of his mind. There was something there, a flaw in her explanation, a loophole that might allow him to do more than simply throttle and let die the primordial desire to see his grandchild. Something from his experience, that both of them knew but were not saying...

He opened his eyes, and felt his heart squeeze at the sight of her kneeling on the sofa across from him again, her composed mask once more in place.

"The Foot Clan does not like loose ends, Inoue-san." He said softly, uncertain whether to grieve or feel triumphant when she flinched slightly at his words. "They may not leave you alone."

There was silence for a long moment as she closed her eyes again, blocking him from further hints to her feelings or thoughts save for what he could smell.

"I know."

Splinter nodded to himself, trying to justify what he was about to propose, uncertain whether she would take the offer and equally uncertain whether he could manage it.

"I will not go to Adam." He paused, licking dry lips as her scent betrayed the hope leaping through her at his words. "But."

She tensed, keeping her eyes closed and her head bowed.

"But." He repeated more gently, certain of his path now. It wasn't much, and it was still dangerous, but it at least left him the option of contact should things go wrong.

"I would like to know when the child is born, if they move, when things change. It is your grandchild." He raised his voice a little at her look of alarm, holding up a calming hand. "Yours and Matsuda-san's. I will not interfere. But I would like to occasionally know how they are faring. If they are happy. Safe."

Tensely, he waited, hoping she would allow him this one concession. It was dangerous, even with Donatello's encrypted phones and scrambling technology to hide their whereabouts, but... an email, or perhaps a text or quick photo once every few months. Something.

She hesitated a moment longer, then nodded.

"I..." He hesitated for a moment, then made his decision, knowing that he was going to regret it even as Inoue-san clearly regretted telling Adam his human name. But at the moment, it seemed like the best thing to do.

"My sons do not know of yours, only a friend of ours. I will not tell them. But if the Foot attack, they will need to know. All of them will need to know."

He didn't insult her intelligence by asking her to contact him in case of trouble. If there was time and the situation was desperate enough, she would reach him by whatever means he gave her. And he would come if he could, to aid what little was left of his old Clan, just as he had vowed when he'd first started his training a lifetime ago.

The silence was longer this time, settling on them both like a fine layer of dust and enveloping them in their own little world as she considered his terms.

"Hai."