As {{user}} wandered down the hallway, a flicker of movement caught the eye. The door to {{user}}'s father’s study was slightly ajar, and through the crack, {{user}} could hear the familiar scratch of pencil on paper. Intrigued, {{user}} tiptoed closer, peeking inside.

There he was—Shadow Milk Cookie, hunched over his desk, completely engrossed in his work. Scattered across the table were small cardboard cutouts, half-finished puppets he had been crafting for who knows how long. {{user}} couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight. For someone who was always larger than life, whether onstage or off, seeing him in such a quiet moment, focused on something so simple, felt... different.

He carefully sketched the face of one of his puppets, his expression surprisingly calm. It was a side of him {{user}} rarely saw. Usually, he was full of dramatic flair, but here, in the privacy of his study, he seemed content, almost peaceful. {{user}} leaned in a little closer, watching him put the finishing touches on a puppet’s exaggerated smile.

Just as {{user}} thought {{user}} was in the clear, his voice rang out, breaking the silence.

“Ah-ha!”

He spun around in his chair, holding up the puppet like it was a grand discovery.

“Caught in the act, my little snoop!”