Ugggh. [look, he's not a huge fan of mandatory training anyway, and now he has to do it in front of a bunch of strangers (near-strangers) without his brothers there? granted, if leo was here he'd probably be making fun of donnie, but it's still not how he wanted to spend his afternoon. he has work to do, actual work, not fake training that's just glorified fitness club.] Is this- really necessary?

[despite the complaints however, he...actually seems to be doing pretty well. an unusually fit nerd maybe. the sprints, the jumps, the exercises don't seem to be testing donatello overly much. he smacks around a training dummy with a sense of familiarity. he's even pretty quick, faster than might be expected of a turtle, though he really starts to lag on the long-distance stamina tests. this is why he only competes in tech-assisted cross-country races, thank you.]

[the speech is creepy, familiar in the way that a tyrannical despot usually is. the ferocious vie for control, the introduction of fear over diplomacy. not that donatello expected much from a guy who calls himself the iron bear, article included in the name.

still, he's not worried. not until a loud sound has him flinching down, arms over his head, not until his his head stops ringing and he looks up to see something very clearly in the shuten territory very, very much on fire. not until people start rushing past him, pushing and scrambling, screaming as they nearly trample an old youkai.

not until donnie realizes it's near the arenas. the arenas leo had been talking about checking out.

donnie doesn't check on who he's shoving out of his way. after a second of barely making it a foot forward through the crush of bodies, he gives up and climbs atop a particularly tall youkai, leaping from its shoulders onto a nearby storefront overhang. he climbs to the top of the building and starts leaping from structure to structure. sometimes it's a stand and it topples with his weight or force. sometimes the building is too far and donnie scrapes up his fingers scrabbling for handholds.

it's not until he's back on the streets closer to the fire, feeling the heat and stench of incendiary chemicals washing over him that his panic finally catches up as if he'd managed to outrun that, too.

donatello cups his hands around his mouth.] Leo! [no answer. the fire makes the sky look orange and gold. smoke boils up. they don't have their powers or weapons. leo can't teleport without his swords. the trackers don't work, donnie can't find leo, what if he's alone, what if he's trapped-] Leonardo!

[if you're nearby and not bleeding -hell, even if you kind of are- donnie grabs your wrist, your arm, whatever he can reach. especially if it looks like you've been clearing rubble or caught in a blast.] Have you seen my brother?! Turtle, blue mask?