Hello all! The last chapter of my little project, Hurt! I hope you all enjoyed it, and any advice you have will definitely help me in the future!

Enjoy! I own nothing.

Hurt

Chapter 5: Hamato Splinter

I am Hamato Splinter. I am an unusual character, as are my four young sons, Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo.

You see, I was raised by my master, whose namesake I now carry. Hamato Yoshi was a noble man, a dedicated warrior from whom I learned all I have now passed on to my sons. He was... like my father.

I should also mention I was my master's adored pet rat. Yes, I was a rat learning ninjustu. It sounds strange, and maybe a little unbelievable, but it is true. He took care of me as if I were his real son, and I learned many things that I have passed on to my own sons.

Until the day he was cruelly taken from my life, I enjoyed a simpler life. But that all changed once The Shredder arrived in my master's dojo.

All I witnessed... was my master, my beloved Master Yoshi... be slain in an unfair battle against an unhonorable monster.

My life forever changed after that fateful night. I was unable to do anything to help my master, and I had no choice but to watch a brave warrior die that kind of death. It was... painful.

I lost the will to carry on after that. I could not save my master. I could barely save myself. And now I cannot even give him a proper burial!

For a long, long time, I lost myself, both spiritually and physically. I carried a day to day existence, struggling to survive, wondering what new trails awaited me. It was not how I wished to live, and one day, I came close to letting the darkness devour me, when something unexpected and even more strange happened.

It began with a broken canister of ooze, and playing in it were four very tiny green turtles. I felt sorrow for them, thinking they had been abandoned as well, and took them under my care.

Of course, housing myself was difficult enough. Housing myself and four young turtle tots was a new challenge altogether. But after hours of searching and some creative thinking, I had made us a little bungalow to keep us warm for the night.

When I awoke, to my surprise, I found that the four little baby turtles had grown! And every day they continued to do so. Grow into their own person, grow into four young, mischievous, often times hardheaded (especially my second oldest son Raphael) but sweet and strong turtle boys.

I named my children in order from eldest to youngest. While they were all around the same age, I felt each of them had their own personality that would be fitting for them.

My eldest, Leonardo. Always willing to learn, grown, work hard, and protect his younger siblings, something I have witnessed time and again.

My second eldest, Raphael. Hard headed, determined to find his way, powerful, but caring of his brothers. Even when he and Leo do not always agree.

My second youngest, Donatello. Intelligent, inquisitive, but peaceful and quiet. I knew he was a pacifist child and he could never hurt a living creature, no matter what.

My youngest, Michelangelo. Playful, sometimes TOO playful, fast, easy going, but the sunshine that myself and his brothers always need and always swore to keep away from any darkness that wishes to corrupt his innocent mind and caring heart.

My boys are now 15 years old. I have trained them in ninjustu, as I was trained by my deceased master and father. I continue to watch them grow, watch them fight, worried like a parent worries and wanting them to return safely home.

I have seen fights and fall outs. I have heard insults, curses and bad words thrown to each other, and comforted each and every one of them. I have felt the agonizing pain of seeing them in my nightmares, watching them being slain with me being unable to help or save them...

But I have also felt another type of pain. Watching them mature and grow. One day, they will separate. They will want to find their own paths in life, and I want nothing more than to keep them home with me.

One night, coming downstairs to turn their TV off for the evening, I smiled at the sight laid out before me.

All four of my sons cuddled together watching what appeared to be a movie. Leonardo and Raphael protectively keeping their younger kin close to them as they slept.

Moments like those often tug at my heart because I know they cannot be like this forever. As I quietly throw a blanket over them and loweer the TV, I steal a final glance at my four young boys.

No matter what, they will always be my little boys. When the time comes for them to go on their own life journey, I know I will be here to guide and help them along.

It is a painful thought, as I sit drinking tea and thinking hard about it. But it is life.

I want my boys to be happy, and to live as long as they can, enjoying every minute of life along the way. I never want to see them shed tears, but I know times like that occur as well.

I love you, my sons. And I wish you nothing short of the best in your future.

From, your father, Hamato Splinter.

END

And finished! I'm still getting used to writing in Splinter's POV, but I hope I did alright.

With that, this is the end of 'Hurt'! Thank you for reading and taking the time to let me know what I should work on; please continue to read and review, but most of all, any tips or advice you have will really be appreciated.

Until next time!