April et les Tortues Ninja
Chapter 56
âAre the fries cooked?â shouted a cook without taking his attention away from his boiling pans. The rush was about to start, so everything had to be ready when the soldiers and the inhabitants came for lunch. Luckily, the chef could count on his new employee, who happened to be a mutant turtle with a red bandana.
âIn a minute!â replied Raphael as he chopped vegetables with remarkable speed before checking the cooking fries, making sure not to make any mistake.
He had accepted this small job to keep his mind busy. Spending his time training for the battle that never seemed to come, he felt like he was going crazy. So the best option for him was to help, even if working in the base cafeteria wasnât something exciting. Raphael wiped his hands on his apron before stirring a sauce with precision and efficiency, then turned toward the serving hatch when a customer arrived. However, he was surprised to see April OâNeil, because usually she ate in Mutant Town. She gave him a small wave with a smile, holding a notebook against her nervously.
âOh, hey, what can I get you? Today itâs fries and chicken or broccoli and steak,â he said automatically, his hands resting on the stainless steel counter.
âActually, I came to ask you something rather special,â she said, lowering her eyes for a moment as if thinking about how to phrase her question. âIf you had the possibility to take a break, what would you want to do?â she asked, making quotation marks with her fingers. Said like that, it sounded a bit strange.
âA break?â he repeated, puzzled.
âYes. You see, with the winnings from my bet, Iâd like to take you all outside this weekend and I want everyone to have fun,â she said, scratching her head before speaking faster when a customer stood behind her, thinking it was the queue. âSo Iâm coming to ask you for your preferences, Donnie advised me to do it like this.â
âHmmmâŚâ but Raphael took her question very seriously and started thinking, staring at the ceiling for a moment. âI can imagine a breathtaking landscape, somewhere we could go on amazing walks. Iâve always wanted to breathe fresh air, you know? Not the kind with exhaust fumes or the very strong smell of earth we have here,â he explained calmly, not at all concerned about the impatient customer.
April had expected him to make fun of her or not answer seriously. But she was very surprised by this satisfying response. Now that he mentioned it, it was true that the smell of earth was dominant and mixed with the smell of fuel, due to the few vehicles allowed to circulate. She quickly wrote it down in her notebook so she wouldnât forget, and opened her mouth to ask for more details, except the customer behind her started complaining.
âSo when is it?!?â grumbled the half-human, half-pig mutant, holding his empty tray tightly. He had just arrived but for him, the wait was already too long.
âHey! Wait your turn like everyone else! Canât you see Iâm busy?â Raphael snapped, raising his voice and pointing his ladle toward the rude mutant. There werenât many people in the cafeteria at this hour, would it kill him to wait two minutes?
âI was about to leave anyway,â April quickly said as she stepped back to give him space, she definitely didnât want to be the cause of a fight. But neither of them were paying attention to her anymore, throwing dark looks at each other while growling.
âI come here to eat, not to get shouted at!â the pink-skinned mutant added, looking at him with contempt, his snout wrinkling.
âIf you donât shut up, Iâll turn you into sausage, pork ribs!â Raphael threatened, tightening his grip on the ladle handle, boiling with anger.
âThey never should have hired a turtle for this job, theyâre too slow,â he said, narrowing his small nasty eyes.
That was too much. Raphael threw his ladle and jumped onto the counter, ready to leave the kitchen and make him taste his new dish: his fists. Luckily, his coworkers held him back to prevent him from starting a riot. April kept backing away before running off. She definitely didnât want to witness a fight in a cafeteria; everyone knew it always ended in a mashed potato battle.
She then headed toward the skate park where Michelangelo was spending time with his best friend, Mondo the gecko. She found them quickly thanks to the recognizable laughter of the carefree turtle, both sitting on the highest perch of the park reserved for wheeled games.
âMickey!â she called, cupping her hand around her mouth to carry her voice to him while the two were talking excitedly.
At the sound of his name, he stopped to look at her before a huge smile lit up his face. Taking his skateboard, he spun it, slid, did a trick, and landed right in front of her, with Mondo right behind him striking a proud pose beside him. Mickey placed his forearm on his head in a cool pose, his short height making it perfect.
âYou wanted to see me?â the turtle mutant asked, raising his brows in a charming, confident way.
âIf I were to organize a little party between us, what would you want? What would make you happy?â she asked nervously.
âIs it my birthday?!â he suddenly exclaimed, scratching his head through his bandana. âAh no, I donât think so,â he then said with a shrug.
âBalloons!â Mondo beside him exclaimed.
âPff, too lame. As long as thereâs something to eat⌠movies! Pizzas! And games, oh yeah I love games. And pizzas!â he repeated while April took notes. âWhy? Are you organizing a party?â
âCan I come?â Mondo begged, joining his hands in front of him.
âAbsolutely not, youâre not setting foot in our place. Youâll tag our walls!â Mickey replied, crossing his arms and shaking his head.
âOh yeah, right,â Mondo admitted, his gaze drifting off as if he had lost track of the conversation.
âThanks, see you later!â the human said as she left them.
They looked at each other, puzzled, before grabbing their skateboards again and doing new tricks while laughing like crazy. April then headed toward the nature park, a little surprised by the unwelcoming fence in front of her. She stood on her tiptoes to try to see over the gate before hearing voices. She immediately recognized Leonardoâs voice. She squinted with an awkward smile and discreetly spied on the two figures that had just entered her field of view.
âWell, well, well⌠look at that,â she whispered while watching Leo and the mutant girl he kept talking about. April held onto the bars of the fence to stay on her tiptoes while trying to hear their conversation. She knew it was wrong, but she really wanted to know what they were saying.
âYou know, no one has come to help like you do,â Chloe began, putting her hands in the pockets of her shorts. âThanks Leo, thanks to you itâs starting to take shape.â
âOh you know⌠itâs normal, and Iâm not really doing anything special,â he replied awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck as they walked calmly toward the ivy-covered gate, completely unaware that the redhead was right behind them.
âNo, I swear! Since⌠Harold, Iâve been alone taking care of the garden,â she said with a sad smile, looking down, her cheeks blushing.
âYou can count on me, I really want to help you. And I want everyone to be able to come here and admire the garden,â he said, copying her, feeling his cheeks burn. Why did the atmosphere feel tense?
ChloĂŠ smiled at his words before waving goodbye and heading off in the other direction. With a final smile, he approached the gate, grabbing the bars as if he were about to climb over like last time, but he inevitably met Aprilâs gaze on the other side. Leonardo froze, staring at the motionless redhead who was squinting at him.
âWhoâs this Harold?â she asked in a suspicious tone, her expression deadpan.
âApril?! What are you⌠how long have you been there?!â he said, shocked, almost tripping backward if he hadnât been holding onto the gate.
âLong enough to see there are buds blooming around here,â she said, raising her eyebrows repeatedly in a comical way with an awkward smile. She crossed her arms and stepped back a few paces to give him space.
âBuds?â he repeated, confused, raising an eyebrow as he climbed over the gate to join her, landing right in front of her.
âForget it, it was a metaphor,â she sighed, putting her hands in her pockets casually.
âSo, are you going to tell me why you were spying on me?â Leo asked lightly as he walked beside her while they headed back toward the house.
âI wasnât spying on you!â April shot back with an amused smile before becoming more serious. âShe seems nice.â She murmured the second part, watching his reaction out of the corner of her eye.
âChloĂŠ has a big heart. She wants to make the people of the city happy with a blooming, lively space to remind us of the beauty of nature,â he replied, smiling admiringly at the thought of the axolotl mutant.
âIâm glad you made a friend,â April said, hands clasped behind her back as she nodded, genuinely happy that everyone was integrating. Well⌠almost everyone. Thinking about it, Donatello still hadnât made a friend at Base 51, unlike his brothers. He was too focused on his project, which is why the idea of a well-deserved break was a good one.
âTell me, Leo, what do you do to relax?â she then asked, turning her gaze toward him.
âWell, I read. Or I meditate with Master Splinter,â he replied without even thinking.
âSo, something calmâŚâ April murmured to herself, writing in her notebook.
âWhy are you asking?â he laughed lightly, surprised by the sudden change of subject.
âIâm organizing a relaxation trip outside the base for the six of us,â she said, not taking her eyes off her notebook where she had written Raphaelâs and Michelangeloâs ideas.
âOutside?â Leo repeated, raising an eyebrow. He hadnât expected such a⌠big idea. âI donât know if Bishop will accept us going out like that just before the final assault.â The blue leader lowered his gaze to the ground, disappointed.
âHe doesnât have the right to keep us locked up?â April asked in shock, but after thinking about it, he wasnât wrong. She would have to find a workaround so he never finds out and doesnât even notice their absence.
âAnd thereâs Master Splinter to convinceâŚâ Leo seemed to be losing hope. He found the idea of a family weekend really exciting, but there were many obstacles in their way.
April froze. She had completely forgotten Splinter and hadnât imagined for a second that he might reject the idea. And it would be legitimate. Swallowing nervously as she opened the front door, Leonardo at her side, they walked in and saw the mutant rat sitting in the armchair in the living room, reading the newspaper. Hearing them come in, he lifted his eyes from his reading, revealing his new rectangular glasses.
âYouâre wearing⌠glasses?â the human girl asked in surprise, taking off her yellow jacket to hang it near the door.
âI discovered there is an ophthalmologist here. For a few years I had trouble reading, so it was a golden opportunity for me,â Splinter replied with overflowing joy in his voice, folding the newspaper to put it away.
âSo I wonât need to read to you anymore, Sensei,â Leonardo said, crossing his arms with a nostalgic smile. Because of his poor eyesight, Splinter had no choice but to ask his most disciplined son to read to him. Leo loved those moments, and it even hurt a little to know they wouldnât happen anymore.
Clearing her throat, April exchanged a look with Leonardo to gather courage before stepping toward the Master, nervously fidgeting with her fingers. She didnât even know what she would do if he disagreed with her idea, so of course she was a bit stressed.
âSo⌠how would you imagine a relaxation trip outside the base?â she asked, squinting with apprehension under his analytical gaze. There was a moment of silence as he seriously considered the question.
âI could see a jacuzzi! Oh, and also a special place for meditation, in a soundproof room with a view of a beautiful landscape!â he said excitedly, standing up from the couch and gesturing vaguely to illustrate his words. April blinked, confused, before quickly writing in her notebook.
âBut if we want to do this discreetly, we need a plan so Bishop doesnât find out. He would never accept this!â Splinter continued, thinking about the problem, stroking his braided beard. âLeave it to me,â he said, walking past her toward the front door.
âAm I dreaming, or is Master Splinter completely on our side?â Leonardo asked without really expecting an answer. His usually calm, rule-abiding father wanted to sneak out for a jacuzzi?!
April giggled as she finished writing down the ratâs requests, then closed her notebook and tucked it under her arm. There was only one person left to see, the one who had helped her from the very beginning of this crazy idea.
She walked down the hallway of the house to the garage before gently opening the door and peeking her head in. Inside, it was chaos. Everything that was usually carefully organized was in disorder, piles of books were stacked everywhere, cables and equipment were scattered across the floor like a battlefield.
âWhere the hell did he go?!â Donatello snapped, slamming his hands onto his head before continuing to rummage through a large drawer in despair, throwing everything he could get his hands on.
April had never seen him this angry. Or panicked? She wasnât sure. She closed the door behind her and kept her back against it, staying quiet since he hadnât noticed her yet. He kept throwing things over his shoulders, moving furniture and muttering under his breath. She didnât really know how to react to such an agitated and angry Donatelloâthis was a first.
âMickey, if youâre the one who took it I swear Iâll strangle you with my bare handsâŚâ the scientist growled through clenched teeth, lifting a heavy box and finally turning toward the human girl.
However, when his golden eyes landed on her, he dropped the box, which landed straight on his foot. His face twisted in pain and surprise, but he did his best to keep a relaxed expression and a forced smile.
âA-April? I didnât hear you come in,â he said, laughing awkwardly as he tried to pull the box off his foot. But with his usual clumsiness around his friend, it was pointless.
âWhat are you looking for?â she asked, leaning forward to help him move the box aside, giving him a questioning look.
âThanksâŚâ he sighed loudly in relief, finally freed from the weight of the box filled with metal pipes. âI suspect Mickey stole my diary. He really canât help himself,â he replied, placing his hands on his hips and looking at the mess in his workshop. Blinded by his search, he hadnât really noticed the chaos he had caused.
âThen if itâs one thatâs already been started, heâs allowed to read it, right?â she asked, trying to remember what he had explained to her about that tradition.
âNot that one⌠Itâs one I startedââ but the nerd stopped mid-sentence when his eyes landed on the notebook April was holding under her arm, the one he had lent her earlier.
When he stopped speaking, she followed his gaze and immediately understood. His expression changed completely; she was almost certain he had gone pale. So all this time, it had been her? He must have confused it when he gave it to her.
âOh, this is your famous diary?â she asked teasingly with a crooked smile. She lifted it in her hand, waving it in front of him to mock him.
âApril, you canât do that,â he said, reaching his hands toward her in an attempt to calm the situation, which from the outside looked funny, but for the nerd was dramatic. She couldnât read it. SHE MUST NOT.
âIf I understand the rule correctly, youâre not allowed to read a diary that isnât finished,â she stated, opening it and quickly flipping through the pages, her playful smile still on her face.
âPleaseâŚâ he whispered desperately, his cheeks changing color at the danger of the situation. That notebook had the power to destroy a beautiful friendship forever; it would be terrible.
âBut Iâm not officially part of the family, so⌠does the rule apply to friends too?â she asked in that same teasing tone, smiling victoriously at his increasingly devastated expression.
âOf course youâre part of the family!â he shot back with a forced smile to hide his terror, shrugging his shoulders.
âWhy donât you want me to take a look? Just a quick one!â the human teased, stepping back when he tried to grab the notebook from her hand. âWhat could the brain of the group have written thatâs so important he wants it back so badly?â she insisted, dodging his poor attempts to catch it.
âIt-itâs private!â he stammered, squinting as he leaned on his still painful foot.
âBut Iâm your best friend, you can trust me!â April turned her back to him again to stop him from grabbing it.
âThat has nothing to do with it!â he shouted, grabbing the young woman to stop her from escaping, his arms wrapping around her.
April stopped laughing when her best friendâs arms surrounded her. She could feel his plastron against her back, his ragged breathing near her ear, and the frantic beating of his heart. Heat rushed to her face, her own heart began to race strangely, and incoherent feelings filled her mind.
It-itâs your best friend! she tried to convince herself, but⌠it was getting harder and harder.
She pushed him away and gave him back the notebook, turning her back to him for a moment before clearing her throat. Anyway, she had no intention of reading it; she would never betray him.
Even if she was dying to know.
Taking back his diary, Donatello sighed in relief. He stared at the black cover, thoughtfully running his thumb over it. He seemed lost in thought, even worried, thinking about what he had written inside.
âI wasnât going to read it,â April said, looking away, unable to meet his eyes.
âI knowâŚâ he replied with a slight smile. âItâs just that I donât want people to be able to read through me without me being able to say it myself. That tradition makes you too vulnerable,â he added, shrugging awkwardly as he looked up at her.
âI think itâs a good thing,â April said, lifting her gaze to him, her expression calmer but hiding something deeper. âBeing able to write our thoughts, our emotions on paper.â
Donatello had gotten to know her over time, which allowed him to analyze her familiar gesture. He knew that when she took that pose, even if it looked normal at first glance, it meant she was tense.
âIs this weekend stressing you out?â he asked more seriously, pushing up his glasses with a trembling hand.
âStressed? Me? Pff, never!â she said, laughing nervously and waving a tired hand.
He crossed his arms and tilted his head, rolling his eyes amusedly at her failed lie, once again. April cleared her throat before asking her question to change the subject; she really didnât want to talk about herself at that moment.
âSo my dear Donatello, what do you like doing to relax?â she asked, raising her eyebrows and imitating his posture.
âWhat IâŚâ he stammered, caught off guard by the shift. âWell, I work on my sketches? Or I watch tutorials online,â he said proudly.
âI meant things other than working on a project,â she said, amused, relaxing as she picked up a stack of books to put them back on the shelf. She needed to do something at the same time to calm her racing heart, which still hadnât recovered from that closeness with her best friend.
âIâm not sure, Iâm so used to building or inventing things to help us in our missionsâŚâ he admitted, scratching the back of his neck as he tidied his messy desk, not wanting to leave her to clean alone. And it was also a good excuse to hide his shaking hands.
âYou never do anything for yourself?â April asked in surprise, finding the conversation quite interesting. She was discovering a new side of her best friend, despite all the times they had talked about everything and nothing in his lab.
âYes! Of course I do⌠itâs just that I canât think of anything right now,â he said, unable to hide his embarrassment, focusing on cleaning to avoid her insistent gaze behind him.
âAlright, I see. Iâll work with what I already know,â she said mysteriously, piquing his curiosity.
Donatello looked at her for a few seconds with an unreadable expression before straightening the shelf. Then he walked over to his diary and tore out the page where she had written all the preferences of the other family members. He cleared his throat before reading them aloud.
âRaphael, nature walk, an isolated place. Michelangelo, game night, pizza, movies. Leonardo, reading, meditation, quiet evening. Splinter, jacuzzi?!â he exclaimed, looking up at her in surprise. He really hadnât expected that from his master, but then again, why not?
âI think Iâm starting to get a pretty good idea of what weâre going to do,â April admitted, taking the paper he handed her.
âI have no doubt itâll be unforgettable,â Donatello said with a soft, confident smile, his golden eyes sending a shiver through her. April was good at organizing things. Well, maybe not dates. But for everything else, he wasnât worried. âAnd if you want help to fine-tune everything⌠Iâm here,â he offered in a lower tone.
âWith pleasure,â she thanked him with a warm smile that warmed his heart.
April and Donatello were now fully immersed in cleaning the garage. After an hour, they finally finished. Admiring their work, they stood side by side, looking at a clean, organized workshop garage ready to use. He truly hadnât realized the extent of his panicâŚ
âAnd you didnât write anything for your preferences,â he said, turning slightly toward her, curious.
April smiled softly without looking at him before replying gently.
âThe only thing I want is for everyone to be happy and have fun. Thatâs all that matters to me.â
