Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT. So sad...

In his bedroom, seated comfortably on a meditation mat, Leonardo sat reading a scroll with untold secrets of the sword. They were difficult to decipher, but thanks to their many years of study of the Japanese language with Master Splinter, he was steadily making his way through it. Taking notes as he went along, Leo's writing grew faster in excitement as he reached the last few steps of an advanced kata, until…

"Shell, I can't make out what it says, much less what it means," Leonardo sighed in frustration. Placing down his pen and the scroll, he stretched and rolled his tight wrist, cramped from writing. The blue clad turtle never had been the most gifted of the four with translation skills, but he knew who was.

Making his way out of his room to Donatello's lab, Leo searched for his brainy brother to help him with his transcription. Finding him tinkering away at, well, he wasn't sure what it was quite yet, but Leo put forth his request to his younger brother.

"Hey, Don," Leonardo greeted. Met with the shortest of nods, he continued. "I need to ask a favor. You see, I'm reading this Japanese scroll on some advanced sword techniques, you know, the one the Ancient One gave me? Anyway, I've gotten to this difficult part. I don't recognize some of the symbols. I know you've studied this kind of stuff a little more closely than I have. Could you transcribe it for me?"

The katana-wielding turtle looked hopefully at Donatello, waiting for a response. Absentmindedly, Donnie put down his drill and raised his face mask. "What, Leo? I couldn't hear you over the racket. And whatever it is, I'm sorry—it's going to have to wait. This project needs to get done. What was it you wanted?" the purple clad turtle responded, busily gathering his tools and pouring over blueprints.

Aggravated with his brother's inattentiveness, Leo scowled and muttered, "Forget it." He wandered off back to his own room, slamming his door.

Donatello didn't even notice him depart, realizing frantically he didn't have the right parts for his latest project. Rolling up his specs and list of supplies, Don began to search for Raphael. Heading up to the warehouse, he found him tinkering on his bike.

"Hey, Raph, got a minute to come with me to the dump to lift some heavier materials I need for my project?" Donnie asked brightly, excited for the trip to the junkyard. A nerd's dreamland.

Wiping sweat from his forehead with a greasy hand, Raphael rolled his eyes at his brother. "Can't you see I'm workin' on the Shell Cycle? I need to finish this. I've got better things to do than lug trash around for you, brainiac."

Reaching for a wrench, Raph went back to his adjustments on the bike. Don crossed his arms in irritation. "Fine, why do I even bother asking you for things? Forget it."

Donatello's departure from the warehouse went unnoticed by Raphael as he continued with his work. An hour later, he finished with the repairs, ready to go out for a ride topside with Casey that fine evening.

Just as Raph went to clean up, his Shell Cell began to ring. Checking the number, he found it to be Casey calling. "S'up, Case?"

"Bad news, Raph. April dragged me in for 'couple bonding' tonight. Chick flicks are seriously harsh to put a guy through. Sorry, I can't go out with ya."

Snapping the device shut with an angry movement, Raph kicked the tool box in front of him. "Darn it! Now what am I supposed to do?"

Venturing back down into the lair, the red clad turtle sought out his youngest brother for some company. Maybe his night wouldn't be totally shot.

He found Michelangelo upside down on the couch furiously pounding the controller for a video game, drool coming from his mouth as he was memorized by the televisions flashing in front of him.

"Hey Mike," Raph said sitting down next to his goofy brother. "Wanna go hang topside? Hit up the comic shop before it closes or get some pizza?"

"…"

"Earth to Mikey!" Raphael shouted at the orange clad turtle, fiercely feeling the need to throw a sai at the gaming console.

Putting the game on pause, Michelangelo distractedly looked at his hotheaded brother. "Huh…? You say something, Raphie boy?"

Punching him in the shoulder, Raphael stood from the couch and strode off. "Forget it, shell-for-brains. You're a waste of my time."

Absently rubbing his shoulder wondering what he had done wrong, Mikey shrugged and resumed his game.

Hours seemed to pass by until the momentous occasion had arrived. "I beat my high score," Mikey whispered in disbelief as he stared at the soft glow of the screen. Jumping up and doing a cartwheel, the easily excitable turtle exclaimed, "I did it! I beat my high score!"

Zooming around the couch while trumpeting noises of victory, Michelangelo skidded to a halt in front of Master Splinter as he slowly entered the main part of the lair from his room. "Check it out, sensei, I beat my high score! You wanna play a quick round?" Mikey gleefully asked while pointing at the screens.

Yawning, Master Splinter wasn't quite sure what his youngest was babbling about. "Yes, that's nice, my son. But no, I have no time for games at the moment."

Despondently, Michelangelo nodded. "Yeah, I get it, sensei. Forget it."

The old rat continued his way to the kitchen to make a fresh batch of tea before doing his evening meditation exercises. Sitting at the table, Leonardo was still trying to decipher his scroll. Moving gracefully about the kitchen, Master Splinter set the kettle upon the stove to boil water. Eyeing his tense son, he made him an offer.

"Would you like to join me for meditation this evening, Leonardo? It will quiet your mind."

Not even glancing up from his work, Leo declined. "No thanks, sensei. I don't even think meditation could help me right now." Standing from his chair, Leonardo gathered up his materials and left the kitchen, still utterly confused with his scroll.

Dumfounded, Splinter lowered his head in disappointment. Softly he whispered to no one, "Forget I mentioned it."

The moment of silence and discontent was shattered by the screech of the whistling kettle.