The Path

They kept in pace, eagerly, an army of footfalls in the stagnant stream that collected in the basin of the tunnel. They were dressed against the autumn chill in baggy mismatched sweats that were rolled to the knees and an assortment of haggard oversized shirts. It was not pertinent to keep total silence at this point, so far down, the spoken word notwithstanding. They were not permitted to speak, not even whispers. This of course did not stop the occasional soft whoop of excitement as they hopped a ledge or exclamation of simply tripping on atmosphere, being somewhat lanky in their latest growth spurts. Splinter would issue a low grumble of warning in such instances.

He had relentlessly prepared them for this very day. It had to come. They would have to learn to be independent eventually, as much as he would have liked to avoid exposing them to the outside world. They were now old enough that even in their small stature, each one alone could potentially take down an average untrained adult without the aid of a weapon. It was imperative to him that they reach this milestone before they went above.

Now, as they trudged in the muck, the excitement and anxiety both flooded the air. Nearest their master, Michelangelo was beside himself with glee, Donatello walked in calculated silence, Raphael with wild determination and Leonardo, last in line to watch over his brothers was tense.

After a long hike, which was much longer than any of them had anticipated, owing to the fact that Splinter had chosen a safer place to surface than he would have normally done, they came to a dead end. It was not the kind of end they had envisioned though, a splendid ladder bathed in radiant light from above. Far from their daydreams, it was actually quite dark; the light bulb in this particular offshoot having burned out and never replaced. The ladder there was hardly discernable in the gloom.

"Matte! Shizukani."

The four exchanged nervous glances as their Sensei scurried up and effectively disappeared into the darkness. Up. That very notion sent butterflies aflutter in Leonardo’s stomach as his master’s feet vanished into the ceiling. Despite his father’s warning, he had no desire to run or shout after him. Up until this point, his entire life had been on the level, everything on a flat plane. Master Splinter had never allowed them to wander into tunnels that deviated from the same layer, described as dangerous.

Michelangelo though, was already under in the chimney-like chute, looking up in his curiosity and excitement. Raphael was quick to follow.

"Mikey!" Panic rose swiftly in the oldest brother. Just as he reached out to pull them back, a hiss from above signaled the all clear and before he could even close his fingers around Michelangelo’s wrist, the smallest was scrambling up the ladder without fear. Raphael was close behind in his eagerness to explore the unknown. Donatello turned to Leonardo in the darkness and smiled. This was something he’d been looking forward to for a long time. Theories would spout from him at the oddest moments, taking his brothers by surprise. It was like stepping on the moon for the boy, an adventure.

"Come on…" He said, radiating wonder and beaming. "Finally."

Donatello, in his wonderment, turned and paid no more attention to his hesitant brother as he ascended the ladder, disappearing like the rest of his family and leaving Leonardo completely alone.

************

It took him a moment, hands clasped before him under where the baggy sleeves met. Mustering some courage, the remaining child stepped forward tentatively into the muted light of the darkened city, filtering down the gaping hole that had just opened in his life. As he gazed upward towards the mouth of the chute, so high above, a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach came to life and began writhing slowly. There, high above, was nothing but a void, a puce colored expanse of what must have been sky. None of the buildings and lights, signs and people…nothing. He stood centered under the manhole, staring straight above, little chest heaving with anxiety, hands drawn to his chest and clinging to each other.

It happened so fast, he couldn’t have possibly anticipated it. A great black silhouette appeared in the circle of color, almost as if it simply materialized there. Before his stunned realization could make the connection between silhouette and form he had jumped back into the shadow. A familiar voice caused him to release his held breath.

"Leonardo, Kowagaranaide, Detekinasai!"

The boy stepped forward again, just barely appearing in the eerie glow and just enough to catch the fleeting shape of his father as he pulled away from the hole far above. Because they had, because it was a command and because he was not timid! Leonardo swallowed hard and unclasped his now shaking hands, reaching for the ladder rung nearest as he took a cautious step forward. His trembling palm grasped the smooth metal.

If he had been a normal child, he would have described the feeling as familiar and somewhat like taking a hold of a slide railing, the old raw iron ones, smoothed over by years of children’s slippery grips. But he had nothing to compare the sensation. Both hands now, the boy stepped off the littered ground and slowly, hand over hand, foot over foot, one step at a time climbed towards the surface. His breathing quickened three quarters of the way up; the air was different. Was this ok to breathe? Eyes closed, the frightened boy maintained a shuddering death grip on the metal rail. There were new sounds now too, a din of distant cars and life within the vast city, too numerous to separate and label. Was it normal? Was it safe? He struggled on.

It wasn’t until he’d reached the top that he panicked. The ladder ended. He felt his hands reach the end, where the ladder was bolted to the cement and opened his eyes. There was nowhere to go, nothing to take hold of and above, so close, the world opened up to an immeasurable expanse. He felt as if he let go, just for an instant, the world would upend itself and he’d fall into the endless vacancy. The sky went on seemingly forever. Leonardo was not prepared for the size of it.

So he held on for dear life to the top rung until a rough hold on his shell ridge pulled him out; the momentum of which sent him scrambling to the shadows until he came to rest against a grouping of bodies. It happened so quickly, then an awful grinding sound of the manhole cover, concrete and metal. A hand on his wrist pulled him down, farther into shadow…a whisper in his ear.

"I thought you fell--LOOK!" A silhouetted finger of which he knew now to be his brother Donatello was pointing skyward. The others were emitting hushed murmurs of awe. It was clear to Leonardo that his brothers were too preoccupied with their new surroundings to have noticed that he was mortified. It hadn’t even occurred to them, which was a small token of relief.

Leonardo turned and huddled in the shadow with them, shell firmly backed to a wall and he chanced a look to where his brother was excitedly pointed. A tall black shape rose to meet the oddly colored sky, punctuated repeated rectangular lights.

"I just saw a person!" Donatello squeaked in his whisper. "Just in that window."

"Yes, and we must not allow them to see us." Hushed his father, now standing above them all. "It is important to understand, the lit windows are not in essence, a danger; it is those which are dark that you must be extremely cautious of.  Darkness is veiled by light.  However, in the absence of light...darkness is revealed. Remember this." He warned as he turned to leave, motioning them to follow. "Ashimoto ni ki o tsukenasai."

Leonardo's blanched face turned skyward again and instead of watching the lit window that Donatello had so keenly pointed out, he stared down the dark windows, unblinking, waiting for movement there, a flutter of a curtain, a pair of eyes...  His brother's filtered past, seemingly blissfully unaware.

************