[He takes note of the scene that briefly manifests (hard not to, facing the water like he is) but with how quickly April hides it, he doesn't ask. Whatever it was, he's sure they handled it as well as they were able.]

Mm... he was. We all were. I hope he remembered that, as long as he could. I... wish I could've told him again, right before the end. Him and Master Michelangelo. Feels like we didn't say it enough. There was never enough time.

[Life was just... hard, all the time. Sometimes they were too tired for words, sometimes all you could do was flop against your family, huddle together, and try to forget the hard parts. But the midori is all too happy to give him that visual, something gentler: all of them gathered up into a big turtle pile, exhausted and wounded and falling apart at the seams, but still able to show they were a family that loved.]