Archive of Our Own ^beta

Ronin had been captured by the foot and was now in a jail cell. Not that he cared, better him than Marie, he made sure she and her cat Calypso got away safely. He’d do it again if he had to.

And it’s not like he’ll be stuck here forever, at most probably 3.5 days. Marie, despite being quite immature at times (not like Mikey had room to talk), she was incredibly skilled even when it came to stealth, Casey would definitely be proud of her. Even April, who was amputated and now has robotic limbs, could probably find a way to get in and help him escape, whether it’s her who goes or she sends someone else. T̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶,̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶n̶ ̶w̶a̶n̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶g̶o̶ ̶g̶e̶t̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶?̶ ̶H̶e̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶b̶l̶a̶m̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶.̶ So all he has to do is wait a while until they come and get him.

Nothing out of the ordinary was happening. The guards were doing as expected, throwing insults and objects at him, nothing he couldn’t take.

But then something strange happened.

…

Ronin sat up in confusion as he saw the cell door being opened by one of the guards.

“Get up.” the guard ordered. “Oroku Hiroto requests to see you.”

Ronin raised a (non existent) brow. What’s going on? What are they doing?

The guard got irritated by Ronin’s lack of obeying and hit the cell door with his weapon, the bars made an annoying rattling sound. “Did you not hear me freak?! I said move it!” he spat.

“Do you not know?” another guard chimed, a shit eating grin on their face. “Turtles are known for being slow.” Everyone in the room laughed, all except him.

“Have they never read the tortoise and the hare?” he thought, then let out a sigh and stood up to follow the guard.

He was taken into a room that had a table that had 2 chairs as well as a pot of soup and a bowl. On the far end of the table was Oroku Hiroto, son of Karai, the new leader of the foot clan, and the reason why New York is a complete shit hole. He smiled at him, but not in a comforting way, his smile would never be comforting, especially not to Ronin.

“Thank you for bringing him,” the black haired man said to the guard before waving him off, “you may go now.”

“Of course sir.” The guard bowed and turned to the door, giving the mutant a dirty look before leaving.

Now, it was only him and (debatably) the worst person alive, Ronin could only imagine why Hiroto brought him here.

The man motioned to the chair across from him, telling the turtle to sit. Ronin did, not taking his eyes off the other for a second.

Ronin glared at him. “What do you want.”

Hiroto gave a fake frown. “Now… is that any way to treat someone who invited you to their place Michelangelo? I tho-”

“You’re not allowed to call me that!” Ronin snapped at him. “And you didn’t ‘invite’ me, you forced me to come here! Now tell me why!”

“Well aren’t you just a bundle of joy…” Hiroto grumbled, he then picked up a bowl and scooped out something from the pot to put in the bowl before placing it in front of Ronin. “I’m just making sure my number one prisoner is being well fed.” he said.

Ronin looked down at the bowl, it was some sort of soup. The broth had a thick, gravy-like appearance, and a brown color. The meat seemed to have a firm texture, Ronin couldn’t tell if it was chicken, pork, or even seafood like alligator or squid. Something about it set off so many alarms in Ronin’s head.

“Go on,” Hiroto said, “eat your food.”

“What is this…?”

“Oh, you’ll like it, I’ve heard Turtles eat it often.~”

“What. Is. It.” Ronin growled, looking at both Hiroto and the mystery soup.

Hiroto pursed his lips for a moment before it turned into an evil smirk. He then spoke three words, three words that would haunt Ronin forever.

“It’s Turtle Soup.”

Ronin blinked and looked up at the black haired man. “What…” he muttered.

Hiroto let out a chuckle as his smirk grew wider. “You didn’t think we’d let all of his perfectly good meat go to waste now did you?” Time seemed to slow for Ronin.

It only took him a second to realize what Hiroto was talking about.

You see, while Mikey might’ve found all of his brother’s weapons and masks, he had only found and buried one of their corpses, Leo’s. When he went back to the destroyed base Mikey had found him under the rubble, shell crushed and head almost detached from his neck. Raph’s body was at the bottom of a river, so no one has gone to retrieve him. But Donnie’s…

Donnie’s body was just gone, just like splinter’s, taken by the Foot Clan. At the time, Mikey had no clue what they were going to use it for. Maybe as a trophy, a sick reminder of what they had done. Maybe they just kept it just because they could, just so Mikey couldn’t bury it. But now he knew what they used it for.

Meat, they used Donnie’s remains for food.

Ronin looked away from h̶i̶s̶ ̶d̶e̶a̶d̶ ̶b̶r̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ the soup and up at Hiroto. Smirking at him, looking as if he’s holding in a laugh. Ronin felt his stomach turn, his fingers curling into fists ready to punch the other in the face. He shot up from his chair in anger, slamming his fists on the table. He opened his mouth, ready to yell, ready to scream, ready to fight this sick excuse of a human being. But Hiroto was quicker.

“Y- ack!-”

The spoon was shoved into his mouth. Hiroto shook his head, making clicking sounds with his tongue. “Tsk, tsk. It’s rude to not eat the food provided to you, Mikey. ~” he said, then ripped the spoon out, letting the soup land on Ronin’s tongue.

D̶o̶n̶n̶i̶e̶ The soup was placed in the back of Ronin’s mouth, a spot that forced him to swallow but also made sure he could taste it. The broth was grimy, like when your throw up is liquid. The meat was rough but also raw, he felt like he was biting a corpse, Donnie’s corpse . But the worst part was the salt. The salt.

He didn’t know why, salt isn’t the main flavor of turtle soup, but he tasted it. Tasted it when it was in his mouth. Tasted it as he swallowed. Even when it was no longer there, he tasted it.

Ronin stumbled back, in horror of what just happened. 

He ate Donnie.

His friend.

His brother.

Sweet, reliable, kind, smart, Donnie .

He felt sick, he WAS sick. He fell to his hands and knees and threw up. But the salt still lingered in his mouth.

He could still taste it

Hiroto scoffed. “How rude! I give you food and you throw it up all over my floor! Didn’t Splinter ever teach you anything other than Ninjutsu?! Like, oh I don’t know? TABLE MANERS!” 

Ronin could barely hear what Hiroto was saying. He was breathing heavily.

Why is it so salty?

“Fine then, GUARDS!” Hiroto calls, his guards enter. “Take this one back, we’re done here.” 

The guards walked over and picked him up, Ronin didn’t care.

Marie would rescue him a few moments after he was returned to the cell. Apologizing for getting him caught. Ronin would tell her it’s fine, he doesn’t care about that. How could he care after what he just did.

When they get back he goes to get water, trying to wash the saltiness off, it never leaves his mouth. He supposes it’s what he deserves, D̶o̶n̶n̶i̶e̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶t̶o̶o̶.

—

The saltiness didn’t go away after a week, it didn’t go away after a month, the taste would linger in his mouth forever.

Ronin hated food now, anything with even a hint of saltiness made him remember the soup. He’d only eat if he was literally about to die from it, when that happened he would eat tasteless, plain, boring bread, but even that tasted salty to him.

Sometimes when he lays in bed he hears donnie saying. “Why would you do that to me? How could you let this happen to me? Was I not important enough to find?” Ronin cries himself to sleep those nights.