It has happened. Me writing a longer chapter! Big applaus to me... from me, atleast. Thanks to the people reviewing this. It means a lot. I hope you like it.
Why had it really mattered that much? Don walked through the sewer while holding the metal box in his hands. On his way, he had started to doubt himself. Why not throw it out with the rest of the trash? It was just trash, right? No, Don couldn't bring himself to think that. Ever since he had discovered the name in the lid, he had looked at it in another way. Like it was precious. He opened the lid. Of course he couldn't read it now. The sand had fallen to the bottom of the box. But he had wanted to bring it back at all times. Even after he had solved the mystery of the owner, his mind had been set on putting it back. The box was put back into the bag, as he had reached the manhole cover leading to the junk yard. He climbed up and tilted the cover a bit. The morning was still silent and black, except for the lights on the street illuminating the area. The junk yard would be completely dark, when he got inside. They didn't turn on any light, unless someone was coming in there. And that was good for him. He was sure he could navigate himself through the mace of piles of junk, but people wouldn't be able to see him, if they were even out at this hour. Getting out of the sewers, he hurried to the fence by the junk yard and jumped over. Now he just had to remember, where he had found it.
'Does that even matter?' he asked himself, but he could have slapped himself as soon as the thought hit him. Yes it did. No matter how silly it seemed at the time. He just thanked himself, that none of his brothers had followed him. They would have teased him about it for months. He knew himself, that it was ridiculous. It was an old, outworn box that no one cared about – except for him. With a huge sigh, he started walking in search of something that looked familiar. He could remember most things, dates, numbers, names – but the location on where he had found the box was completely forgotten.
"Good old turtle luck," he muttered to himself as he searched. Perhaps there were some clues somewhere….
Yes, he remembered that pile. A refrigerator towered on top of the pile like a door to another world. He had passed that. And that pile looked familiar too. It took a while, before he was satisfied. He had found a spot, where he believed to have been sitting the night before. And about time. The sun was beginning to rise over Manhattan, giving the sky a red aura, which was cast down on the ground. The turtle kneeled down, taking the box out of the bag and looked at it – just this one, last time. The lid was opened and closed again.
Was he sure, this was the place? He stood up, still holding the box. Perhaps he should take another round through the junk yard, just to be sure. He turned around and took a step forward, looking up.
"Whoa!" he cried, falling backwards. Someone had been standing behind him. Someone was standing in front of him now! The girl gave a shriek and jumped backwards, starring at Don.
"I – I can explain, I…" Don stammered. He hadn't expected to be seen, more less being confronted. He had brought up a hand before him to try and cover his facial looks, but slowly took it down. He had to know who his "attacker" was. With the other hand, he clutched the metal box tightly, though he wasn't aware of it.
"You – you're a…" the female voice whispered, and Don allowed himself to actually look at the girl. His eyes widened at the sight. It was impossible… it was amazing. The figure was indeed a girl, with long blond hair and blue eyes – but it was a turtle girl.
"A turtle," Don finished her sentence, bringing his hand down to rest on the ground. It was unbelievable. He had never expected to find another mutant turtle in his life. Where did this female suddenly come from? Don sat up straight, looking her over. Her skin was white, though yellowish around the brown spots on her body. Her face was mostly white, except for a big brown spot on each cheek and above her eyes. He knew the species. Caretta caretta – a loggerhead sea turtle. It had to be. Don knew a lot of the different species amongst the sea turtles. The air was silent around them, as they both starred at each other in disbelief. Suddenly, the female turtle blinked and coughed a bit.
"May I ask," she said lowly, lifting her hand to point at Don's chest, "Could I have that back?" At first Don had no idea of what she was talking about, until he moved his fingers a bit. The metal box. Don looked down at the box, as he got up. He could feel that he had somehow gotten some dust or more of the sand in his eyes again after he had fallen backwards, but rubbing his eyes with a dirty hand would just make it worse. He handed the box to the loggerhead, who grabbed it with both hands. Don noticed that she only had three fingers as well.
"So, you're Shaira?" Don asked, and the girl shot a glance at him.
"How did you know?"
"The box," Don explained himself, "I could see it inside…" While talking, Don brushed his hands against each other, trying to get as much of the dirt off as possible. Shaira let a finger run over the lid of the box, before she brought the hand up to brush some hair away from her face.
"Oh, right…" she muttered, a slight blush showing on her face, "And you are…?"
"Sorry, my name is Donatello," Don smiled, "But my friends call me Don." Shaira nodded slowly, as if something was dawning in her mind.
"Friends?" She started looking around.
"They aren't with me," Don told her, making Shaira look back at him. She looked like one big question mark.
"Are they… humans?" she asked, "Or someone like you?"
"Well, "Don started, not quite sure where exactly to begin, "See, I have three brothers, who are turtles as well, and-"
"You have brothers?" Shaira interrupted, a small smile lighting up on her beak. Perhaps she didn't have any siblings, or even a family? Don couldn't help but chuckle a bit. Mikey would probably have the same look on his face, when Don would come home to tell them that he had found another mutant turtle…
"Yeah, and then there's my sensei. He's a rat though. And there are our friends, Casey and April…" Don paused a bit. Perhaps he was going on too quickly? If the outer world was still closed land to the girl, perhaps she needed some time to suck it all in. Shaira blinked a bit, suddenly looking out at the buildings.
"Perhaps we should seek cover," she muttered, "People get frightened, when they see me." Don nodded understandingly and looked at the way he had come earlier.
"I think I know the place," Don replied and started walking back with Shaira close in his heels. After having been at the junk yard so many times with his brothers, they had learned the location of all the good hiding places around. And not too far away, was an old abandoned shaft that the workers had once used. Luckily, it fitted a young mutant turtle well, though there wasn't much room inside. The door had fallen off some time in the past, but it worked fine as a shelter. Don and Shaira sat down on the lonely bench inside.
"Please continue," Shaira smiled, "I want to know about them all. If your sensei is a rat, what animals are these Casey and April then?"
"Actually, they're humans."
Shaira became mute and looked at him.
"You can befriend humans?" she asked, her eyes looking straight into Don's. The purple masked turtle moved a bit uneasily. Explaining their relationship and the beginnings would only lead to more and longer stories. He would have to include the Purple Dragons, Stockman, Shredder, maybe even Karai – that was definitely too long a story…
"It's a bit complicated," Don shrugged, "But trust me, it doesn't happened too often." Shaira chuckled lightly at the comment, brushing the blonde hair to the side.
"I can imagine," the loggerhead smiled. She looked down at the ground, kicking a piece of paper from a chocolate bar with her naked foot. Don studied the candy paper, as it was caught by the wind and started flying over the ground in small, uneasy jumps.
"So, you said that you have brothers?" Shaira looked up.
"Yeah," Don replied, "You'd love Mikey…"
"Why such a big difference in your names? Why are you named 'Donatello', when he's only named 'Mikey'?" Shaira blinked.
"Oh, Mikey's only for short. His name is Michelangelo. And my two other siblings are named Leonardo and Raphael-"
"Like the Renaissance artist?"
Don was stunned for a moment. So she knew about history? Which meant that she had to be able to read, unless someone told her about it. Would there be others like her? Don coughed a bit, trying to see if he could nudge out the corn of sand still irritating his eye.
"You like art?" he asked, giving up on the sand. It was still in there somewhere, but it was impossible to get it out.
"Well yeah, looking at it," Shaira laughed, "I can't paint myself."
"But you know about it, obviously. So you read?"
Shaira nodded, letting a finger grab a lock of hair and threw it backwards to get it away from her face.
"And so do you, it seems."
Don laughed. If one asked his brothers, they would probably say, that it was an understatement. They didn't pass one day, without he had read in a book or two, maybe only to get some information along the way in his experiments and machineries.
"If only you knew," he muttered and looked out at the skyline. The sun had set over Manhattan already? Then it wouldn't take long, before Splinter would want him to be home. Missing morning practise was a sin in their family.
"I better get going," Don stood up adjusting the strap from the large bag on his shoulder, "I'm sure my family misses me." Shaira stood up again, following Don by his side, as he started walking towards the exit. It didn't take too long to reach the metal fence leading out to the side, where Don would find a manhole and creep down into the sewers to get home.
"You will come back, right?" Shaira clutched the box onto her yellow chest, while using the other hand to try and brush away the hair from her face, though the wind would only grab it once again throw it in front of her view.
"Don't worry, I will," Don assured her and grabbed on to the fence, ready to jump over. He suddenly froze, thinking of something.
"You ever thought of doing something about that hair?" he asked suddenly, letting go of the fence. Shaira blinked at first, before she raised an eye ridge at the turtle.
"I'm not cutting it off," she stated and Don merely shock his head, opening his bag. He fiddled around for a short while, until he found what he was looking for. He dragged a purple piece of cloth out of the bag, handing it to the girl.
"Tying it up could work just as well," he shrugged. Shaira placed the metal box on the ground and took the cloth. She looked at it and quickly tied it around the hair, but her face held a small smirk as she did.
"You always carry ribbons in your bag," she chuckled and crossed her arms. Don blushed a bit.
"Actually," he defended himself with a light grin, "It's just a spare bandanna." And it really was. There was no special reason for carrying it – he just happened to throw all kinds of useful items into the bag, before he headed topside. And hadn't the bandanna just come in handy? Shaira just shock her head and picked up the box again.
"Perhaps you can tell me the deal with the bandannas next time," she stroke the metal lid and looked up at Don. The turtle gave her a thumb's up, grabbed on to the fence and climbed over. But as he looked back to say goodbye, Shaira was gone.
'She probably went home,' Don thought to himself. Where ever her home was… With that, Don turned around, sticking to the shadows, until he found the manhole cover and slid into the sewers, hurrying back home.